Etruscology - Naso

Alessandro Naso (ed.
)
Etruscology
Etruscology
Volume 1
Edited by
Alessandro Naso
ISBN 978-1-934078-48-8
(PDF) 978-1-934078-49-5
(ePub) 978-1-61451-910-2
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© 2017 Walter de Gruyter Inc., Boston/Berlin

Cover image: Fresco from the tomb of the Augurs, Tarquinia: Running Phersu (masked man)
on the left wall. Ca. 520 BCE; Photo: Courtesy DAI-Rome
Typesetting: Satzstudio Borngräber, Dessau
Printing and binding: Hubert & Co. GmbH und Co. KG, Berlin/Boston
♾ Printed on acid-free paper
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Table of contents
Alessandro Naso
1 Introduction — 1
Part 1: I. Methods
Christoph Ulf
2 An ancient question: the origin of the Etruscans — 11
Martin Korenjak
3 The Etruscans in Ancient Literature — 35
Giuseppe M. Della Fina

4 History of Etruscology — 53
Maurizio Harari
5 Etruscan Art or Art of the Etruscans? — 69
Natacha Lubtchansky
6 Iconography and iconology,
Nineteenth to Twenty-first centuries — 79
Enrico Benelli
7 Approaches to the study of the language — 95
Philip Perkins
8 DNA and Etruscan identity — 109
II. Issues: Politic and society
Gianluca Tagliamonte
9 Political organization and magistrates — 121
Maria Cecilia D’Ercole

10 Economy and trade — 143
Markus Egg
11 War and Weaponry — 165
VI Table of contents
Petra Amann
12 Society — 179
Erich Kistler
13 Feasts, Wine and Society, eighth–sixth centuries BCE — 195
Fabio Colivicchi
14 Banqueting and food — 207
Jean-Paul Thuillier
15 Sports — 221
Armando Cherici
16 Dance — 233
Enrico Benelli
17 Alphabets and language — 245
II. Issues: Religion
Daniele F. Maras
18 Religion — 277
Alessandro Naso
19 Death and burial — 317
Robert Rollinger
20 Haruspicy from the Ancient Near East to Etruria — 341
Marie-Laurence Haack
21 Prophecy and divination — 357
II. Issues: Technique and technology
Patrice Pomey
22 Ships and Shipping — 371
Laura M. Michetti
23 Harbors — 391

Table of contents VII
Adriana Emiliozzi
24 Vehicles and roads — 407
Andrea Zifferero
25 Mines and Metal Working — 425
Alessandro Corretti
26 The mines on the island of Elba — 445
Fiorenzo Catalli
27 Coins and mints — 463
Adriano Maggiani
28 Weights and balances — 473
Margarita Gleba
29 Textiles and Dress — 485
Emiliano Li Castro
30 Musical instruments — 505
Marshall Joseph Becker

31 Etruscan gold dental appliances — 523
Part 2: III. History
Adriano Maggiani
32 The Historical Framework — 537
Marco Pacciarelli
33 The transition from village communities to protourban societies — 561
Massimo Botto
34 The diffusion of Near Eastern cultures — 581
Luca Cerchiai
35 Urban Civilization — 617
Laurent Haumesser
36 Hellenism in Central Italy — 645

VIII Table of contents
Arnaldo Marcone
37 Romanization — 665
Mario Torelli
38 The Etruscan Legacy — 685
IV. Civilization: Early Iron Age

Lars Karlsson
39 Hut Architecture, 10th cent.-730 BCE — 723
Cristiano Iaia
40 Handicrafts, 10th cent.-730 BCE — 739
Marco Pacciarelli
41 Society, 10th cent.-730 BCE — 759
Tiziano Trocchi
42 Ritual and cults, 10th cent.-730 BCE — 779
Albert J. Nijboer
43 Economy, 10th cent.-730 BCE — 795
Cristiano Iaia
44 External Relationships, 10th cent.-730 BCE — 811
IV. Civilization: Orientalizing period
Mauro Menichetti
45 Art, 730–580 BCE — 831
Marina Micozzi
46 Handicraft, 730–580 BCE — 851
Alessandro Naso
47 Society, 730–580 BCE — 869
Tiziano Trocchi
48 Ritual and cults, 730–580 BCE — 885

Table of contents IX
Albert J. Nijboer
49 Economy, 730–580 BCE — 901
Marina Micozzi
50 External Relationships, 730–580 BCE — 921
IV. Civilization: Archaic and Classical periods

Nigel Spivey and Maurizio Harari
51 Archaic and Late Archaic Art, 580–450 BCE — 943
Martin Bentz
52 Handicrafts, 580–450 BCE — 971
Petra Amann
53 Society, 580–450 BCE — 985
54 Ritual and Cults, 580–450 BCE — 1001
Hilary Becker
55 Economy, 580–450 BCE — 1013
Christoph Reusser
56 External relationships, 580–450 BCE — 1031
IV. Civilization: Late Classical and Hellenistic periods
Fernando Gilotta
57 Late Classical and Hellenistic art, 450–250 BCE — 1049
Laura Ambrosini
58 Handicraft, 450–250 BCE — 1079
Petra Amann
59 Society, 450–250 BCE — 1101
60 Ritual and cults, 450–250 BCE — 1117

X Table of contents
Hilary Becker
61 Economy, 450–250 BCE — 1129
Stefano Bruni
IV. Civilization: Etruria and Rome

Fernando Gilotta
63 Art, 250–89 BCE — 1161
Francesco de Angelis
64 Handicraft, 250–89 BCE — 1173
Arnaldo Marcone
65 Society, 250–89 BCE — 1191
66 Ritual and Cults, 250–89 BCE — 1203
Hilary Becker
67 Economy, 250–89 BCE — 1215
V. Topography of Etruria
Philip Perkins
69 The landscape and environment of Etruria — 1239
Andrea Zifferero
70 Southern Etruria — 1251
Erik O. Nielsen and P. Gregory Warden

71 Northern Etruria — 1299
Andrea Zifferero
72 Settlement Patterns and Land Use — 1339

Table of contents XI
VI. Etruscans outside Etruria: Southern Italy
Teresa Cinquantaquattro and Carmine Pellegrino

73 Southern Campania — 1359
Vincenzo Bellelli
74 Northern Campania — 1395
VI. Etruscans outside Etruria: Central and Northern Italy
Luigi Malnati
75 Emilia — 1437
Patrizia von Eles, Gabriele Baldelli

76–77 Romagna and the Marches — 1453
Raffaele Carlo de Marinis

78 Lombardy — 1501
VI. Etruscans outside Etruria: Etruscan Finds in Italy
Alessandro Naso
79 Central Italy and Rome — 1533
80 Southern Italy — 1551
Martin Guggisberg
81 Northern Italy
(Piedmont, Veneto, Trentino–Alto Adige, Friuli–Venezia Giulia) — 1565
VI. Etruscans outside Etruria: Etruscan Finds in Europe
Gerhard Tomedi
82 South and southeast Central Europe — 1585
Holger Baitinger
83 Transalpine Regions — 1607

XII Table of contents
VI. Etruscans outside Etruria: Etruscan Finds in the Mediterranean
Olivier Jehasse
84 Corsica — 1641
Rosa Maria Albanese Procelli

85 Sicily — 1653
Marco Rendeli
86 Sardinia — 1669
Alessandro Naso
87 Greece, Aegean islands and Levant — 1679
Alessandro Naso
88 North Africa — 1695
Claire Joncheray
89 Southern France — 1709
Raimon Graells i Fabregat

90 The Iberian Peninsula — 1721
Colour plates — 1737
Authors — 1761
Index — 1767

Alessandro Naso
1 Introduction
The only reasonable solution is to dismember the [computer] manuals,
study them for six months under the guidance of an Etruscologist,
condense them into four file cards (which will be enough),
and throw the originals away.
U. Eco, “How to Follow Instructions” (1994, 141)
1 Why Etruscans and Etruscology?

Although the Etruscans are the third ancient civilization in western Europe after
Greece and Rome, in contemporary culture they are almost a synonym for mystery,
and Etruscologists are thought to be able to solve mysteries—as Umberto Eco ironi-
cally confirms.1 In European culture this opinion is deeply rooted. The Greek histo-
rians Herodotus (fifth century BCE) and Dionysius of Halicarnassus (first century
BCE) raised the Etruscan question and attempted to clarify the mysterious origins and
language of this people in two different ways—the first declaring origins among the
Lydians, the second among the Italics. This situation was exacerbated by later events.
The twenty books of Tyrrhenika, “Etruscan matters,” written in Greek by the Roman
emperor Claudius (10 BCE–54 CE), as well as other ancient texts on the Etruscans, are
lost, and this is not by accident. For several reasons, Christian authors identified the
Etruscans as pagans, and monks in the Middle Ages deliberately did not copy Greek
and Roman literature on non-Christian peoples. This situation changed in the late
Middle Ages and especially in the Renaissance, when Etruscan objects and monu-
ments came to light and archaeology began to play the primary role in defining the
Etruscans. Details of Etruscan sepulchers were drawn by the two greatest artists of
the Renaissance, Leonardo da Vinci (1452–1519) and Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475–
1564). Etruscan studies were carried out especially in Italy, but not exclusively by
Italian scholars; the first modern book was written in Latin by the Scottish humanist
Thomas Dempster in the seventeenth century and was published a hundred years
later in Florence.2 Its publication increased the fascination with the Etruscans in the
eighteenth century and spawned Etruscheria (“Etruscomania”), the amateur passion
for them.
1 See for English http://www.mysteriousetruscans.com/library.html (accessed April 27, 2015).

2 Th. Dempster, De Etruria regali libri VII, vols. 1–2. Florentiae 1723–1724: apud Joannem Cajetanum
Tartinium.
2 Alessandro Naso
A scientific development closely connected with Italian culture followed the early
interest in Etruscheria. An important step was the Chair of Archaeology established
in 1810 at the University of Perugia and maintained until 1877, dealing with Greek,
Etruscan, and Roman archaeology.3
Interest in the “mysterious” Etruscans in the following years suffered long breaks,
interrupted by important archaeological discoveries, such as the temple and statues
found at Veii from 1914 onward, which helped arouse interest and establish modern
Etruscan studies. Modern Etruscan studies are closely connected with the name of
Massimo Pallottino (1909–1995), who held the Chair of Etruscology at the University
of Rome “La Sapienza” from 1942 to 1980 and founded Etruscology as a modern sci-
entific discipline. He was the acknowledged authority in studies of pre-Roman Italy
not only in his own country but all over the world, founding and leading a summer
school in Etruscology and Italic studies reserved for non-Italian scholars at the Uni-
versity for Foreigners of Perugia. In Pallottino’s view, Etruscology and Etruscologists
study every aspect of Etruscan culture—as Egyptology and Egyptologists do for Egyp-
tian culture—literacy tradition, inscriptions, art, archaeology, and so on, which are
used to construct a general historical framework. The Etruscologist is mostly a his-
torian. Pallottino expressed his thoughts in a major work, Etruscologia, which was
firstly published in 1942 by the established Italian publisher Hoepli, famous for its
series of handbooks. Over the next four decades, the book underwent six new edi-
tions, each one systematically revised by the author, which made it the standard work
on the subject.4 After Pallottino’s death, Etruscologia was reprinted in Italy in 2006.
The comprehensive text, which has been translated into all the major languages of
Europe (English, French, German, and Spanish, plus Hungarian, Polish, and Portu-
guese) and has been adopted by several generations of Etruscology students, was a
milestone not only for the subject, but also for Italian culture. The availability of such
an important book influenced the publication of further volumes on Etruscan culture,
in all major languages by many authors. The constant increase in specialization and
the incessant progress of archaeological discoveries have by now made it impossible
for a single scholar to control all the information and to write a comprehensive text;
it is no accident that the volume intended to update Etruscologia is written by eleven
authors under the direction of Gilda Bartoloni, a pupil of Pallottino.5 The best way
to satisfy the universal interest in the “mysterious” Etruscans is an exhaustive book
covering them in English.
Several general books on Etruscans, including the first dictionary, have recently
been published in English and confirm that large publishing projects are still a very
3 Erudizione e antiquaria a Perugia nell’Ottocento, edited by L. Polverini. Naples 1998: ESI.

4 M. Pallottino, Etruscologia. Milan 1942: Hoepli, 7th ed. 1984, latest reprint, 2006.
5 Introduzione all’etruscologia, edited by G. Bartoloni. Milan 2011: Hoepli.

1 Introduction 3
modern way to disseminate archaeological results.6 Some recent books are similar in
certain respects to the present one. The large number of contributors and their inter-
national provenance reflect the high level of specialization and the worldwide under-
taking of research on the Etruscans. Some statistics may be of interest: sixty-seven
authors from eleven countries have written ninety chapters (three have two authors).
If the sixty-seven authors are divided by nationality, thirty-nine are from Italy, seven
from France, six from Austria, four from the United States, three from Switzerland,
two each from England and Germany, and one each from Lithuania, Spain, Sweden,
and the Netherlands. If the sixty-seven authors are divided by institution, thirty-one
are from Italian institutions, eight from French, seven from Austrian, five from Ameri-
can, four from German, two each from English and Swiss, and one each from Cana-
dian, Dutch, and Swedish universities; five authors are independent scholars. Thus
geographic mobility slightly changes the picture of nationality, and although Italian
scholars are the most prolific and mobile, Etruscology is an international matter.
If the ninety chapters are divided by institution, forty are from Italian institutions,
thirteen from Austrian, eleven from French, eight from American, four from German,
three from English, two each from Dutch and Swiss, and one each from Canadian
and Swedish universities; five are by independent scholars. Similar results can be
reached if the ninety chapters are divided by author’s nationality: fifty-five are by
Italians, ten by French contributors, eight by Austrians, six by Americans; and three
each by English and Swiss, two each by Dutch and German, and one each by Lithu-
anian, Spanish, and Swedish authors. Scholars in Etruscology are thus disseminated
all over the world, but they are concentrated in Italy, followed by France and Austria.
This is not an accident, but corresponds exactly to the chairs of Etruscology in the
universities of these nations. Twenty-eight Etruscologists form a special group in
the Italian academic system of Scienze dell’Antichità, and in the 2014–2015 academic
year they were active in twenty-two universities.7 Although Etruscology chairs have
not been established in France, where research on Etruscan culture is traditionally
carried out by Classical philologists, lectures on Etruscan archaeology are held at the
École du Louvre in Paris; at the University of Vienna in Austria a chair of Etruskologie
und Italische Altertumskunde has been established. In England, a Sybille Haynes Lec-
tureship in Etruscan and Italic Archaeology was recently created at the University of
Oxford. Two positions—in Germany at the University of Tübingen and in Belgium at
the University of Louvain la Neuve—have no longer been active in Etruscology. It must
6 S. Haynes, Etruscan Civilization. A Cultural History, London and Los Angeles 2000, British Museum
Press and the J. Paul Getty Trust 2000; S. Stoddart, Historical dictionary of the Etruscans, Lanham, MD
2009, Scarecrow Press; The Etruscan world, edited by J. MacIntosh Turfa, London 2013, Routledge; A
Companion to the Etruscans, edited by S. Bell and A. A. Carpino, Chichester, West Sussex 2016, Wiley
Blackwell.
7 The number of Etruscologists in Italy affiliated with the sector called L-ANT/06 will probably
decrease in coming years as retiring scholars are not replaced.

4 Alessandro Naso
be added that scholars from several countries are mainly concerned with the Etrus-
cans but officially teach other archaeological disciplines: the present editor held from
2008 to 2015 the chair of Ur- und Frühgeschichte at an Institute with a long tradition
of research on Iron Age Italy.8
Other institutions focusing on the Etruscans may be mentioned, such as the Isti-
tuto di Studi sul Mediterraneo Antico of the Consiglio Nazionale delle Ricerche (Rome)
and the Unité Mixte de Recherche Archéologie et Philologie d’Orient et d’Occident sup-
ported by the Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique and the École Normale
Supérieure (Paris). The leading institution in Etruscan studies, the Istituto Nazio
nale di Studi Etruschi e Italici, founded in 1925 in Florence, which has published the
journal Studi Etruschi since 1927, organizes scientific symposia, and includes sections
in Austria, France, Germany, and the United States.9
This wide range of scientific activity allows us to conclude that the Etruscans may
be mysterious primarily for publishers and readers, both of whom love mysteries.
2 Authors and structure of the book

If Pallottino as founder of modern Etruscology and his immediate pupils formed
respectively the first and second academic generations of Etruscologists, the scholars
on duty in this book—including the present editor and most of its authors—are the
third and fourth generations, with some second generation exceptions. The aim of
such a balanced mixture between innovation and tradition is an up-to-date and reli-
able handbook. The choice of author for each contribution followed three distinct
principles. First, several Etruscologists have been asked to deal with subjects that are
quite new for them, to augment their interest and to avoid routine chapters. Second,
some scholars have been invited to contribute to this book even though they were
not specifically interested in Etruscan subjects, because they have new approaches
and bring new light to old questions. Third, some very technical subjects in need of
vast direct experience could only be treated by a few scholars. In such cases an editor
has no real choice, as is shown by comparing the tables of contents of the above-
mentioned general books and the present one: often the same author deals with the
same theme in several places.
This handbook is in two main parts: critical reviews of methods and main issues
(part 1), and syntheses of history, civilization, the landscape of Etruria, and Etruscans
outside Etruria (part 2).
8 As noted in D. Ridgway, “Greece, Etruria and Rome: relationships and receptions.” Ancient West &
East 9, 2010: 50.
9 Since 1994 the American section has published the journal Etruscan Studies.

1 Introduction 5
2.1 Part 1
Because the Etruscans were a cultural bridge between differing times and areas (pro-
tohistory and history, East and West, Greece and Rome), Etruscology deals with many
aspects extending throughout the first millennium BCE, from protohistory to Roman
times, from the classification of Iron Age artifacts to the history of art proper. There-
fore it has never developed a methodology of it own but needs multiple approaches to
this wide range of subjects. The first section of part 1 (chapters 2–8) is devoted entirely
to methodology in the history of Etruscology, from the question of the origin of the
Etruscans to images of the Etruscans in Greek and Latin literature, from the earli-
est phases of the discipline to modern interpretations of art and iconology, including
recent research on DNA analysis. The study of the Etruscan language, known exclu-
sively through ancient inscriptions, has always had a special role and therefore needs
a special treatment of its methodology.
“Issues” offers a combination of major subjects typical of any important ancient
civilization along with some areas where Etruscans were preeminent in the ancient
world (section II, chapters 9–31). The issues discussed include three thematic
divisions, devoted to politics and society (political organization and magistrates,
economy and trade, war, society, wine culture, banqueting and food, sports, dance,
alphabets and language), religion (religion, death and burial, haruspicy, proph-
ecy and divination), and finally technology (ships and shipping, harbors, vehicles
and roads, mines and metalworking, the mines on the island of Elba, coins and
mints, weights and balances, textiles and dress, musical instruments, gold dental
appliances). Such issues are not particularly new for Etruscologists, but it is new to
have all of them together in one place. The present volume aims to be systematic,
but some aspects are missing. Current knowledge of certain subjects, such as the
Etruscan system of measures and demography, seem to be too limited to provide an
exhaustive overview.
2.2 Part 2
The third section, dedicated to history, opens the second part of this book. Etruscan
civilization corresponds to the first millennium BCE and has been divided schemati-
cally into five main periods (all dates earlier than the first century mentioned in this
volume are assumed to be BCE unless otherwise marked):
1. Early Iron Age, 10th cent.–730
2. Orientalizing period, 730–580
3. Archaic and Classical periods, 580–450
4. Late Classical and Hellenistic periods, 450–250
5. Etruria and Rome, 250–89

6 Alessandro Naso
The development of Etruscan history is covered accordingly in five chapters, which

are introduced by a general historical framework dealing with a thousand years of
Etruscan history and related events, and are followed by a portrait of the Etruscan
legacy in Roman civilization (section III, chapters 32–38). Each chapter deals with
the main event of a period, corresponding to the development from village to city for
the Early Iron Age, the diffusion of Near Eastern cultures for the Orientalizing period,
urban civilization for the Archaic and Classical periods, the diffusion of Hellenism
in central Italy for the Late Classical and Hellenistic periods, and the relationship
with Rome for the Republican age. There follows the treatment of Etruscan civiliza-
tion under its five main periods, each including six subjects: art, handicrafts, society,
ritual and cults, economy, and external relationships (section IV, chapters 39–68).
The systematic structure, which aims to give an overview so that similarities can
be compared and differences marked between the periods, was inspired by Renato
Peroni’s impressive book on Italy in the Bronze Age.10 Following established criteria
in Classical studies, the chapters on art deal with the three main fine arts: sculpture,
architecture, and painting; while vase painting and pottery, bronze vases, jewelry,
and small finds are grouped under handicrafts. The individual treatments of economy
and society in these groups of chapters are more detailed than the general reviews in
part II (chapters 10 and 12). In general, possible overlaps throughout the book should
not be considered a drawback, but an enrichment that provides the reader with a finer
orientation to this volume’s more than 1,700 pages.
Sections V, Topography of Etruria, is devoted to environmental and topographi-
cal descriptions of the southern and northern districts of Etruria (section V, chap-
ters 69–72). Section VI outlines the presence of the Etruscans outside Etruria in Italy
(chapters 73–78) and then reviews Etruscan interaction and trade first in non-Etrus-
can Italy; then in south central and central Europe; and finally in the Mediterranean
area, including Corsica (included here by convention, although it had a real Etruscan
presence), Sicily, Sardinia, Greece and the Levant, North Africa, southern France, and
the Iberian peninsula (chapters 79–90).
The maps deserve special mention due to their importance in the book: forty maps
have been drawn, including both new subjects, such as the development of Etruscan
cities over the five historical periods and the distribution of Etruscan inscriptions,
and traditional themes, such as the natural landscape, the ports and related cities of
Etruria, metallic ores and other resources in Etruria, the distribution of Etruscan finds
in and outside Italy, and the distribution of some overseas items in Etruria.
10 R. Peroni, L’Italia alle soglie della storia, Rome, Bari 1996: Laterza.

1 Introduction 7
3 Acknowledgments
My most sincere thanks are due all the authors; they supported a scientific enterprise
with their written contributions. As editor I conceived the plan of the book and I am
responsible for it and any mistakes.
The general aid of the Leopold-Franzens-University Innsbruck is particularly
appreciated: Rektor Tilmann Märk and Vizerektorin Sabine Schindler provided gen-
erous funding for the illustrations, Vizerektor Wolfgang Meixner facilitated the grant-
ing of a sabbatical term, and Dekan of the Philosophisch-Historisch Fakultät Klaus
Eisterer supported the publication of Etruscology. Several colleagues furnished not
only contributions, but also advice on the structure of the book. Andreas Blaickner
and Michael Schick, draftsmen at the Institut für Archäologien, drew respectively all
the maps and the pictures of musical instruments with invaluable competence. The
publishing house of the Römisch-Germanisches Zentralmuseum (Mainz) supplied
the base map that was used for all the maps. Special mentions are reserved to the
museums conservators which allowed to publish the images, particularly Deutsches
Archäologisches Institut Rom (DAI Rome), Soprintendenza Archeologia del Lazio e
dell’Etruria Meridionale (SAR-Laz), and Soprintendenza Archeologia della Toscana
(SAT).
Michiel Klein-Swormink in winter 2010 suggested that I edit a Handbook of Etrus-
cology for de Gruyter. My enthusiastic and naïve acceptance has been followed by
seven years of hard work, first creating an outline of the book, then contacting the
authors, and lastly performing the delicate job of editor. Dr. Serena Pirrotta of de
Gruyter assisted with contacts with museums and other collections to obtain permis-
sion to reproduce the images. The copyeditor Aaron Ostrow was a fine work compan-
ion. Special thanks are due all them.
Alessandro Naso
Istituto di Studi sul Mediterraneo Antico, Consiglio Nazionale delle Ricerche, Rome
and
Università degli Studi Federico II, Naples
In the present work have been used the abbreviations of the Oxford Classical Dictionary, 4th edition,
Oxford 2012 for ancient authors (http://classics.oxfordre.com/staticfiles/images/ORECLA/OCD.
ABBREVIATIONS.pdf), and those of Studi Etruschi for journals and books series (http://www.bretsch-
neideronline.it/studi_etruschi/pdf_studi_etruschi/studi_etruschi_73/STUDETR_LXXIII_Abbreviazi-
oni.pdf)

Part 1: I. Methods
Christoph Ulf
2 An ancient question:
the origin of the Etruscans
Abstract: In the ancient written sources contradicting views are held as to who the Etruscans were
and from where they originated. Modern scholarship has been content to pick out one of the ancient
concepts and to support it with historical, archaeological or linguistic arguments. As a result, there
is still no consensus in this matter. An important reason for this is that the opinions held in modern
scholarship are also closely linked to the ideological environments in which they are set. In an
attempt to render these correlations as transparent as possible, this chapter attaches more impor-
tance to contextualizing the ancient written sources and the positions taken by modern scholarship
than to mentioning and describing them as “exhaustively” as possible.
The chapter also draws attention to the interferences between the ancient written sources, the
hypotheses regarding the Etruscan language and the interpretations of archaeological findings. To
avoid the circular reasoning so frequent in academic debates, it is argued, one must follow the funda-
mental call in the methodological debate in archaeology to contextualize and interpret archaeologi-
cal findings initially on their own. The archaeological settings, local and trans-regional correlations
between findings can only be given meaning in a scientifically transparent manner, where specifically
defined and clearly described analogical cases from the fields of anthropology and history are used.
This, in fact, forms the basis for the more recent reflections on the possible internal structures of the
settlements and cities and the connections between them. These reflections become all the more com-
pelling, the less they depend upon the alleged knowledge of the “Etruscans” in the ancient written
sources.
Keywords: Herodotus, Dionysius of Halicarnassus, written sources, Tyrsenoi, Tusci
Introduction
The ancient written sources hold contradictory views as to who the Etruscans were
and from where they originated. Modern scholarship has been content to pick out one
of the ancient concepts and to support it with historical, archaeological or linguistic
arguments. As a result, there is still no consensus in this matter.1 An important reason
for this is that the opinions held in modern scholarship are also closely linked to the
ideological environments in which they are set. In an attempt to render these cor-
relations as transparent as possible, the following chapter attaches more importance
to contextualizing2 the ancient written sources and the positions taken by modern
scholarship than to mentioning and describing them as “exhaustively” as possible.
1 See the concise and still valuable description of the situation by Banti 1959.
2 This direction is indicated by Cristofani 2000; Camporeale 2011; de Simone 2011.
12 Christoph Ulf
1 The written sources
1.1 Tyrsenoi in the northern Aegean: The ancient sources up

to Herodotus of Halicarnassus
The Tyrsenoi are first mentioned in Hesiod’s seventh-century Theogony (line 1016),
in which Circe bears three of Odysseus’ children, Agrius (“the Wild One”), Latinos
and Telegonus (“born afar”), who reign over the Tyrsenians far away among a set of
islands. The location serves solely to create a mythical displacement for the narrative
and does not refer to a specific place or to Italy. This obvious vagueness with regard
to location is corroborated by the Homeric hymn to Dionysus (7.6–8), which probably
dates from the sixth century and in which the god Dionysus is robbed by the Tyrsenoi
in the northern Aegean.
This localization of the Tyrsenians is in keeping with Herodotus (1.56–57), who
created a local link between the Tyrsenians and the Pelasgians. The Tyrsenians are
only mentioned as an appendix to the narrative in which Croesus, the King of Lydia,
intends to seal an alliance with the greatest powers (dynatotatoi) in Greece against
the Persians. In characterizing the Lacedaemonians and Athenians, Herodotus also
draws on mythic history. The Lacedaemonians are a Hellenic ethnos; they once lived
in Thessaliotis (the ancient name of modern Thessaly, with different borders), or
Phthiotis, to be more precise, migrating in stages farther south and finally settling in
the Peloponnese, by which time they were known as the Dorians. The Athenians are
a different case in point. They are a Pelasgian ethnos and as such always remained
in the same location, i.e. in Athens. To become a Hellene, they had to relinquish the
Pelasgian language in favor of Greek. The Pelasgians were previously neighbors with
the Dorians and likewise lived in Thessaliotis. This is confirmed by the geographical
reference, which in the context of the narrative can only refer to the Aegean region.
It states that Pelasgians can still be found today “above” the “Tyrrhenoi” who live in
the city of Creston.3
1.2 Migrating ethnic groups: The new way of thinking following

the Persian Wars
Herodotus’ concept of Tyrsenian identity is inconsistent; it varies depending on

the context. This is noteworthy in that the main argument for assuming the Etrus-
3 There is no doubt that Herodotus’ Creston is to be placed in Thrace; Dionysius of Halicarnassus

refers to an alleged mistake made by Hellanicus to transfer Creston to Italy. A comprehensive overview
about the ancient debate and the manuscripts is provided by Asheri et al. 2007, 118–119.

2 An ancient question: the origin of the Etruscans 13
cans came to Italy from the East was derived from a different widely cited passage
(Hdt. 1.94).
One of the most important themes in Herodotus’ portrayal is his call for an aware-
ness of Hellenic unity to be formed against the backdrop of the Persian campaign
against the Hellenes. To create a foil for his appeal for Hellenic unity, he sheds light in
the narratives (logoi) of foreign peoples on the regions bordering the eastern Mediter-
ranean. The Lydian Logos comes at the start of the first part of Herodotus’ narrative,
which stakes out the setting for the Persian campaign. The widely debated account of
the Lydians being divided into two halves and drawing lots to decide which half of the
population must emigrate, is just part of the detailed etiology as to why the Lydians
are thought to have invented many games. Using the fable motif—a famine lasting
eighteen years—as the trigger for emigration is very much in keeping with the casual
nature of the narration. This also ties in with the fact that the emigrants’ journey to
their destination, the land of the Umbri on Italy’s west coast, is not described in any
greater detail. This is striking and stems from the vague geographic perceptions of the
western Mediterranean at that time: Herodotus believed that Italy’s west coast did not
run south to north, but that the southernmost tip of Italy continued almost directly
west and that Sicily, Sardinia and Corsica formed a line opposite Italy.4 In accord
with the pattern that emerged in the fifth century of establishing colonies, Herodotus
states that the Lydians also established cities in Umbria and named themselves the
Tyrsenians after their leader Tyrsenus.
Besides the mythical motif of “famine,” Herodotus names a second motif to
explain why half of the Lydians emigrated. He asserts that this half of the population
was not subjected to servitude by the Persians.5 Accordingly, this narrative appears
to have been influenced by the experience of the Persian Wars, as is the case with the
migration of the Phocaeans, which is described in much greater detail.6 Herodotus
later describes the latter as the first Hellenes to have undertaken great voyages across
the sea (1.163–67).
Herodotus’ presumably younger contemporary Hellanicus of Lesbos united the
two lines of discourse, concerning the Tyrsenians and the Pelasgians, which Hero-
dotus had treated separately. The preserved fragment7 clearly shows that the history
of the Tyrsenians has been greatly altered. The Lydians, who according to Herodotus
migrated to the West, are replaced by the Pelasgians. By asserting that the Tyrseni-
ans were once called Pelasgians, he encounters the problem that the oldest narra-
4 Cf. Sieberer 1995, 50–58; for a map see Bichler 2000, 413.
5 Only here is Tyrsenos added to the genealogy of the Lydian kings on which Herodotus’ chronology
is based; it looks like an ad-hoc invention.
6 This holds true even if one reckons like Briquel (1991, esp. 69–74) with a Lydian story invented at
the court of Croesus following the pattern of the common descent (syngeneia), which Herodotus took
as the model for his narrative.
7 FGrH 4 F 3 = Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 1.28.

14 Christoph Ulf
tives placed the Tyrsenians in the northern Aegean alongside the Pelasgians. In addi-
tion, like Herodotus, he offers a genealogy as alleged proof to support his opinion.
Accordingly, the eponymous ancestor Pelasgus is said to have fathered Phrastor with
Menippe; Phrastor’s son was Amyntor, whose son Teutamides fathered a son called
Nanas.8 Hellanicus, however, cites a completely different reason for migrating: under
the rule of Nanas, the Pelasgians were expelled from their land by the Hellenes,
landing on Italy’s east coast, at Spina, initially settling in Cortona, and finally colo-
nizing the interior, which today bears the name Tyrsenie. Contrary to Herodotus, they
did not lend their country their name but changed their name to that of the country.
Hellanicus clearly undertakes a process of geographical rationalization by dislocat-
ing the Pelasgians from the realms of myth and placing them on the west coast of
Italy, which was then well known to the Hellenes.
Presumably, as knowledge of the Italian coastline grew in the wake of the Pelo-
ponnesian War, Hellanicus transferred the Tyrsenians to the then familiar west coast
of Italy. This is reflected in the fourth century in the work of Ephorus of Cyme. In the
fragment referring to Sicily (Strabo 6.2.2), Naxos and Megara are said to have been
the first Hellenic settlements in Sicily in the tenth generation after the Trojan War. He
justifies this by asserting that the earlier Hellenes feared the Tyrsenian pirates and the
cruelty of the Barbarians there. At the same time, he appears to have superseded Hel-
lanicus’s attempt at identifying the Pelasgians and the Tyrsenians since Strabo (5.2.4)
cites him and asserts that the Pelasgians were originally Arcadians and had migrated
from Arcadia to Crete.9
1.3 The relationship between the island of Lemnos and Athens
Where Thucydides of Athens (4.109) describes how the Spartan commander Brasidas
had taken Amphipolis in the Peloponnesian War and moved up to the canal built by
the Persian King Xerxes to the farthest outlying peninsula of Chalkidike, he names
several cities to help his readers gain their bearings. He also mentions—almost in
passing—that these cities were inhabited by bilingual barbarians: Pelasgian, Bis-
8 Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 1.17–18 knows of an additional and different genealogy. Pelasgus is the son of
Zeus and Niobe, daughter of Phoronis. In the sixth generation the Pelasgians left the Peloponnese and
came to the country Haimonia (= Thessaly) from which they drove out the barbarians; the country was
then named Pelasgiotis, after the Pelasgians. Six generations later, the Pelasgians themselves were
driven away by the Leleges (= the Aetolians) and Curetes (= the Locri); some of the Pelasgians fled
to Crete, the Cyclades and to the region close to Olympus and Ossa (= Hestiaitotis), some to Boeotia,
Phokis and Euboea; and some to Asia next to the Hellespontus and the islands there. Most, however,
arrived at Dodona, and after a while crossed the Ionian Sea to settle at the mouth of the River Po.
Later, they were driven out by the barbarians, who in turn, still later, were driven out by the Romans.
9 For the various ways to locate the Pelasgians cf. Sammartano 2012, 56–65.

altians, Krestonians and Hedonians. The Pelasgians, it is said, originated from the
Tyrrhenians, who had once populated Lemnos and Athens. Thucydides apparently
refers here to the link between Athens and the Pelasgians known to Herodotus (1.57).
According to Herodotus, however, Lemnos had always been Pelasgian; even during
Darius’ reign, Pelasgians lived on Lemnos and Imbros (Hdt. 1.145). Only later they
were displaced by the Athenians, finally settling on the Peloponnese (Hdt. 1.136–137).
By comparison, Thucydides blends the Pelasgians with the Tyrrhenians, and as a
result, in Thucydides, Lemnos becomes Tyrrhenian.
In contrast to Herodotus, Thucydides’ geographical awareness is similar to that of
Ephorus (Thuc. 4.24), whereby the Sicilian and Tyrrhenian Seas (tyrsenikon pelagos)
meet in the strait between Rhegium and Messene (modern Messina); the Tyrrhenian
Gulf is to the right of the ships sailing along the coast of Sicily towards Himera (Thuc.
6.62: tyrsenikos kolpos).10 Although Thucydides appears to be clear about placing
the Tyrsenians in western Italy, he was not aware of any Tyrsenians migrating to the
west. The Tyrsenians (= Pelasgians of Lemnos) only come as far as Athens. As a con-
sequence, he had no concept of a Tyrrhenian Sea in the northern Aegean.
Only when Thucydides’ text is blended with Herodotus’ version—and ignoring
the fact that Thucydides believed the Tyrrhenians only got as far as Athens—can one
assume that the Tyrrhenians in Etruria originated from Lemnos. This kind of arbitrary
compilation does not appear until the third century BCE in Anticleides of Athens.11
The short fragment states that the Pelasgians were the first to establish Lemnos and
Imbros, and that some of them had migrated to Italy together with Tyrrhenus, son of
Atys.
1.4 Autochthonous Tyrsenoi: A Greek perspective on Rome
Linking mythical narratives to present-day intentions explains why the Roman

authors, whether Cicero (Div. 1.12, Cat. 31.13), Virgil (Aen. 8.79–80), Horace (Sat. 1.6.1),
Ovid (Met. 576–77) or Tacitus (Ann. 4.55), refer exclusively to Herodotus’s version of
the Tyrsenian discourse, which asserts that the Tyrsenians were Lydians. They use it
to substantiate in simple terms the contrast between Rome and the Etruscans.
The perspective taken by the Greek Dionysius of Halicarnassus, who lived in
Rome, is quite different. His aim is to prove that Rome is a Greek colony (apoikie)
created through the process of synoecism.12 He contrasts this mix of different ethnic
10 Cf. Dionysius Periegeta 100–103, presumably dating to the second century CE.
11 FGrH 140 F 21 = Strabo 5.2.4.
12 For the aim of Dionysius’s history cf. Scullard 1966 and Gabba 1991. Wiater 2011 convincingly
analyzes Dionysius’s conception of Rome as a continuation of Classical Athens, whereas Schultze
2000 seems to underestimate this point and therefore argues for his (historical) “reliability.”

16 Christoph Ulf
groups with the Etruscans as an autochthonous unit. For this reason, he criticizes
all other versions of Tyrsensian heritage that were in circulation at that time (Dion.
Hal. Ant. Rom. 1.27–30). His genealogy of Lydian rulers differs from that drawn up by
Herodotus (1.27): Tyrrhenus, the colony’s leader (hegemon), was born into a Lydian
clan (genos), which Dionysius of Halicarnassus leads back almost to the earliest of the
gods. Manes was born of Zeus and Gaia and has a son, Atys. Once again in contrast
to Herodotus, Atys, with Callithea, fathers Lydus and Tyrrhenus, after whom their
“peoples” are named five generations later. The Lydians lived in the country formerly
known as Maionia; Tyrrhenus left due to famine.
Dionysius is familiar with other variations of Herodotus’s version (1.28). Tyrrhe-
nus is also said to be a son of Heracles and the Lydian Omphale and to have driven
the Pelasgians out of the cities north of the Tiber in Italy(!); alternatively, Tyrrhenus is
said to be a son of Telephus, who came to Italy after the Trojan War. Xanthus of Lydia,
on the other hand, asserted that Tyrrhenus was not part of Lydian genealogy; he like-
wise had no knowledge of a Maionian colony in Italy or of a Lydian colony known as
Tyrrhenia. The sons of Atys were Lydus and Torebus; they each ruled over the Lydians
and Torebians in Asia. Speaking different tongues, they taunted each other like the
Ionians and Dorians. Dionysius also cites the version by Hellanicus and one by a
certain Myrsilos; the latter turned Hellanicus’ portrayal around, such that the Tyr-
rhenians became Pelargians. After the Tyrrhenians had left their home, they adopted
the new name of Pelargians because of their similarity to storks (pelargoi). They wan-
dered around in Greece and the land of the Barbarians in groups; the Pelargian Wall
at the Acropolis in Athens is said to have been named after them.
Dionysius challenges all these variations about the Tyrrhenians, Lydians and
Pelasgians with his own version (1.29). He makes a clear distinction between the Tyr-
rhenians and the Pelasgians, and concludes that it would be as wrong to mix the two
simply because they lived alongside one another as it would be to throw the Trojans
and the Phrygians in the same pot. Based on this argument, one could also deny the
differences between the Latini, Umbri and Ausonians. Given that differences tend to
blur the farther away the observer, he states that the Hellenes referred to them all as
Tyrsenians and they called Rome a Tyrrhenian city. However, Dionysius then proves
to be somewhat indecisive as to whether they all had the same origin despite the fact
that they speak different languages.
He makes a distinction between Tyrrhenians and Pelasgians and asserts that the
Pelasgians were involved in founding Rome (1.30). He states that the Greek tendency
to equate the Pelasgians with the Etruscans and with Rome is, however, incorrect.
Moreover, he explicitly stresses that the Tyrrhenians did not colonize the Lydians,
that they did not share a common—or even a related—language, and that they did not
worship the same gods or observe the same customs. He continued that they cannot
be compared, since the Tyrrhenians are “found to be a very ancient nation and to
agree with no other either in its language or in its manner of life”

He underlines this by pointing out that the Romans gave the Tyrrhenians a dif-
ferent name: Etruscans, after Etruria. He believes that their former name was “Thy-
oskooi,” but that they referred to themselves as Rasenna.
1.5 How should the Hellenic perspectives be read?
It is clear that the different narratives function as part of a construct to explain and
justify the circumstances and conditions of the day.13 The “pre-history” used with this
intention clearly displays the characteristics of a mythical story. It is also evident,
however, that the genealogical relationships, traced all the way through to the heroes
of the Trojan War, form part of an attempt to squeeze the many parallel yet differing
narratives into a common chronological system.14
Under these circumstances, it is problematic to proceed on the assumption of
“peoples” or even of linguistic units such as the Tyrsenians and Pelasgians. Rather,
a Tyrsenian discourse and a Pelasgian discourse15 must be presupposed. The dis-
course that dominates the narrative, or the manner and extent of their intermingling
depends largely on the author’s intent. The longevity of the two discourses confirms
their inherent flexibility but not their historical validity. Accordingly, Dionysius of
Halicarnassus (1.17) was also able to create a link between the Pelasgians and Sicily
from the perspective of his day. The Pelasgians were said to have once lived in today’s
Thessaly; they were forced to leave their home, becoming neighbors of the Aborigines
and joining forces with them in the fight against the Sicels. In this context, Dionysius
also conveys the belief that groups of Pelasgians who had settled in Dodona had to
leave the country again, landing on the opposite coast of Italy (1.18). It is this con-
struction that becomes a prerequisite for the subsequent narrative (1.20), in which
these Pelasgians fought against the Umbri and conquered Croton.16
The only deductions permitted with any certainty by the abovementioned nar-
ratives are thus that the Greeks on the Balkan Pensinsula and in Asia Minor were
familiar with the names of the Umbri and Tyrsenus/Tyrsenoi, that they placed Umbria
in central Italy, and that, as their geographical knowledge improved, they located
Tyrsenoi north of Sicily.
13 Similar to Sammartano 2012. The narratives refer to the appearance of the Lydians in Asia, the
conflict of the Lydians with the Greek cities in Asia Minor, the conflict between Sparta and Athens
and the formation of ethnic identities involved in it, and the Persian Wars; cf. Hall 1997; Hall 2005;
Osborne 2009.
14 See Bichler 2004.
15 An overview of the sources is provided by Briquel 1984 and Sammartano 2012, 71–75.
16 Creston cannot be separated from the context in Herodotus’s story (1.56–57); cf. n. 5 above. To
identify Creston with Umbrian Cortona presupposes the immigration of the Etruscans in Italy and the
equation of Pelasgians and Tyrsenoi; pro: Schultze 2000, contra: Camporeale 2004.

18 Christoph Ulf
1.6 Rome’s ethnographic view of the North
Whereas Dionysius sees the Etruscans as part of his concept of Rome’s Greek origins,
Livy believes Rome to be the unequivocal center of the earth in relation to which all
other peoples should be considered, and mentions the Etruscans in connection with
the Gaul’s advance into the Po Valley and their battles with the Etruscans living there
(5.33.5–11). In the period prior to Roman rule, Livy states, the Etruscans populated the
Tuscan and Adriatic coasts, and established cities also beyond the Apennines across
to the Alps. The peoples in the Alps, and the Raeti in particular, were of the same
origin. In an ethnographic manner, he equates them to the uncivilized peoples on
the northern edge of Italy. He believed that the Etruscans in the Alps had adopted the
savagery of their surroundings and that the only part of their Etruscan heritage that
had been preserved, albeit distorted, was the sound of their language.
Pliny the Elder thinks along the same ethnographical lines as Livy when he
asserts in his panoramic view of the ancient world that the Raeti were Etruscans. The
Alps were, he said, populated (HN 3.20.133) by multi populi, including the Raeti et Vin-
delici. He claims that the Raeti were descendants of the Tusci displaced by the Gauls;
their leader was known as Raetus. In the description of Umbria and the ager Gallicus
(HN 3.14.112) he follows the (Greek) tradition that the Umbrians were—allegedly—the
oldest genus in Italy. He states that the Umbrians drove the Sicels and Liburnians out
of the region around Palma, Praetutia, and Adria; the Etruscans then conquered 300
Umbrian cities. In the context of the threat to Rome by the Gauls, Pompeius Trogus
(Just. Epit. 20.5.10) refers to the Etruscans in passing: when the Gauls came to Italy,
they drove the Etruscans out of the Po Valley; the Etruscans were forced back into the
Alps and formed a tribe led by Raetus, which was named after him.
2 Positions and Tendencies in Modern Scholarship

The clear parallelism between the differing narratives about the Etruscans and their
intertextuality17 was widely negated in a move to determine the “beginnings” of the
Etruscans. Instead, attempts have been and are being made to pick just one of these
narratives as the source from which knowledge is distilled right back to the origins of
the Etruscans, i.e. to the second millennium. The choice of narrative depends largely
on the premise for historical reconstruction prevailing in the scholars’ surroundings.
These correlations can only be presented here as dominant trends since the detailed
analyzes required to achieve greater precision are yet to be conducted.18
17 Cf. Schmitz 2002, 94–97; Allen 2011; Orr 2003.

18 See e.g. Della Fina 2009; Camporeale 2011, 13–38.

2.1 Etruscheria, Etruria and the unity of Italy
Cosimo II de Medici in Florence was identified in connection with alleged Etruscan

kings by Thomas Dempster in his 1616 manuscript De Etruria regali libri septem, which
did not become widely known until it was published in the early eighteenth century.
The timing is no coincidence, but occurred as a consequence of a keen interest in the
Etruscans emerging from the “discovery of peoples” in the period of Romanticism and
for which the term Etruscheria was coined.19
Following in Dionysius’ footsteps, Dempster deemed the Etruscans to be the only
autochthonous people in the region, also pinpointing their language as one that dif-
fered from all other ancient tongues. Dempster also considered the Pelasgians and
Lydians as invaders comparable with the Barbarians of the Middle Ages. This form
of rapturous romanticism also led to comparisons being drawn between the Etrus-
cans and the Egyptians and to almost all cultural achievements being ascribed to the
Etruscans. Etruscan Art was allegedly superior to Greek Art, and the vases unearthed
in ancient tombs were said to be of Etruscan origin. These convictions were among
the factors triggering the creation of Etruscan art collections, initially in Florence and
Verona, and later beyond Italy’s borders.20
This tremendous appreciation of the Etruscans also had a political element. In
the construction of the past during the Risorgimento (unification) of Italy, the Etrus-
cans could always be set against the dominant Romans as an autonomous cultural
and political force to be reckoned with.21 Of similar importance were the Italics who,
likewise, formed an autonomous world independent of the Romans and Greeks. In
line with the premise that language is the expression of a people, this particular
“myth of Italy”22 also embraces the view that the tongues of the Italics and Etruscans
were related.
In his portray of the Etruscans, which for a long time was the most detailed and
had a lasting impact far into the twentieth century, the German historian Karl Otfried
Müller consciously placed himself within the ranks of the “Tuscan scholars.”23 In the
wake of the historical source criticism by Barthold Georg Niebuhr, Müller was keen to
dissolve the apparent contradictions between the various ancient reports by creating
a chronological order. He believed the different mythological narratives were reflec-
tions of the sequence in which the various peoples migrated to, from and within Italy.
He states that in the course of these movements, the Tyrsenians also came to Italy
from Greece and settled in Tarquinia. The subsequent contradictory line of argument
19 Thomson de Grummond 1986; Cristofani 1978, 598–599; 1983; 1992.

20 Cf. Govi 1992; Haynes 1992; Sannibale 2011.
21 Micali 1810; 1836; cf. Desideri 2011; Cristofani 2001; Barocchi and Gallo 1985; Colonna 1992.
22 The myth is shaped according to the place the author comes from; cf. Torelli 2011; Colonna 2011.
23 Müller 1828, III.

20 Christoph Ulf
can only be explained by his heritage and German tradition of thought. From the link
made by Dionysius between the Rasenna and the Raeti, he draws the conclusion that
the Rasenna of the Alps advanced against the Apennine, driving out the Umbrians,
settling in Etruria and mixing with the Tyrsenians from Tarquinia. This, he believed,
was the origin of the Tuscan people.
Müller considered all source genres and puzzled together his (re)construction
from almost all the available elements, leading to the different hypotheses regarding
the origins of the Etruscans to the present day. He also based his argument on the
criteria still used in Etruscology as a means of evaluating the written sources: that is,
the Etruscan language and archaeology. Since these two fields are particularly suited
to projecting personal (ideological) positions, he was trapped within the resultant
circular reasoning: the decisions regarding the character of the Etruscan language,
the “right” interpretation of the archaeological findings, and which of the ancient
sources offered the “correct” historical information are not made independently of one
another but instead mutually prop each other up. It is, therefore, no coincidence that
at the end of the eighteenth century Luigi Lanzi identified the Etruscan language as
Italian Etruscan and as such as an Indo-European language; this conviction remained
dominant in one form or another until well into the late nineteenth century.24
The discovery of the famous inscription on the island of Lemnos in the northern
Aegean in 1885 changed the direction of the debate. The language used in this short
inscription has some similarity with Etruscan.25 This paved the way for the debate over
whether Etruscan was, in fact, an Indo-European language or whether it belonged to
an older substrate from the Mediterranean region.26 The latter possibility opened the
doorway to interpreting the growing external influences on the Etruscans purely as a
secondary phenomenon.
Since the interpretation of archaeological findings largely depended on the
evaluation of the Etruscan language, this new situation fundamentally changed the
archaeological debate as well. For example, Ugo Antonielli claimed that the inhuma-
tions of the Tyrsenian Copper and Bronze Age were representative of the indigenous
(Etruscan) population. A people accustomed to cremation burials who migrated from
the north to the south, superseded this tradition, thus forming the Villanovan culture.
This line of argument aimed at identifying an autochthonous and autonomous Etrus-
can people and can thus be deemed the scientific continuation of Etruscheria. Once
again, it is no coincidence that at specifically this point in time, much energy and
conviction were invested in advocating the autonomy of Etruscan (and Italic) Art as
opposed to Greek Art, along with the originality of all things Etruscan.27 This was lin-
24 Overviews can be found in Pallottino 1984 and Pfiffig 1969.

25 Recent finds and discussion are summarized by de Simone 2008, 2011.
26 Cf. Pallottino 1984, 57–69.
27 Cf. e.g. Ducati 1927b; Giglioli 1935; for literature see Pallottino 1984, 17–18.

guistically supported, among others, by Giacomo Devoto’s thesis28 that the Etruscans
had formed an ethnic pocket much like the Basques. He claimed that the pre-Indo-
Germanic substrates had been influenced only on the “periphery” by the languages of
the Indo-Germanic invaders; the contact between the indigenous population and the
immigrant Indo-Germanic people had, however, led to the creation of the Etruscan
culture as a koine of high quality.
The academic standpoints were developed against the backdrop of serious polit-
ical upheaval in Italy in the 1920s and 1930s. Fascist policies aimed, among other
things, at establishing strong state institutions throughout Italy, and were accom-
panied ideologically by the use of symbols from the Roman state. To eradicate the
contrast between the Etruscans and the Romans, the Etruscan influence on the
Romans was emphasized and the latter were presented not as the conquerors but as
the unifiers of Italy.29 An indirect repercussion of this argument, which was felt until
quite recently, is reflected in the earlier view represented by Eduard Meyer and Julius
Beloch—that the Etruscans native to Italy had spread from the west to the east as
pirates in the Mediterranean; they were said to have settled on the island of Lemnos
in the process.30
2.2 The European colonial view of the South
In the nineteenth century, scientific archaeological research of the Mediterranean

region became part of the national and colonial cultural policy of the European
powers.31 The idea that the Etruscans had traveled from the north to Etruria forms
part of the view that the ancient cultures were the precursors to the nations of Europe.
The interests of Britain were more strongly focused on Greece and Crete, Egypt and the
Near East. This would explain why British scholars were barely involved in research-
ing the Etruscans although the idea of Etruscheria also met with a positive response
in England.32 A very different picture can be painted with regard to the involvement
and influence of German scholars in Italy. Not only did a large number of them live in
28 Devoto 1931.
29 An example for the longevity of this reasoning is Devoto et al. 1954.
30 Meyer 1893, 500–504; Beloch 1913, 50–54; Gras 1985; de Simone 1996.
31 Cf. Trümpler 2008; Etienne 2000; Korka 2005; Valavanis 2007.
32 A small number of publications of some impact like Dennis 1848 only corroborates this view; cf.
Strong 1968, 140: “But the English-speaking countries have produced few Etruscologists in recent
times and the bulk of English reading on the subject is made up of translations of important works by
foreign scholars.”; Haynes 1992, 310–319.

22 Christoph Ulf
Italy during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, but their interest lay not only in
Roman history but also explicitly in Etruscan history.33
Although Nicolas Fréret34 was the first scholar to entertain the idea that the Etrus-
cans had originated from the north, Barthold Georg Niebuhr was without a doubt the
main proponent of the concept in the nineteenth century. He believed that the Etrus-
cans came from the Alps, and argued that if the Gauls had first driven them there,
the Alps must have been uninhabited previously. In contrast to “the Italian scholars”
and as a direct attack on Micali,35 Niebuhr claims that the tongue of the Etruscans is
an uncorrupted ethnic language, elements of which can be identified in the “tongue
spoken by the inhabitants of Val Gardena in Tyrol”.36 He purports that Raetia is the
“original fatherland of the Etruscan people.”37
Scholars arguing in this vein refer to Dionysius of Halicarnassus. He is used to
argue against Herodotus and all other assertions that the Etruscans originated from
the East. The analogy between the name Rasenna and the Etruscans or Tyrsenians is
cast an important role; equally, the link between Rasenna and the Raeti as suggested
by Livy is also considered plausible.
Toward the end of the nineteenth century, archaeologist Wolfgang Helbig sup-
ported attempts to identify the Etruscans with the Raeti on the basis of archaeological
arguments.38 He linked Pliny the Elder’s comment that the Etruscans had destroyed
three hundred cities with the end of the “pile villages,” the annihilation of which he
claimed had been caused by the migrating Etruscans. He continued that their culture
and archaeology were initially identical to the Italics and that they were not exposed
to any “eastern influences.” Moreover, they then went on to rule as a “military and
priestly nobility over an Italic population,” increasingly rising above them as a result
of their higher “national” culture. To this, Luigi Pigorini addedan argument that had
a significant impact39. He claimed that the members of the Terramare culture had
migrated south over the Alps together with the Etruscans; he also asserted that the
cremation of the dead and their burial in urns was characteristic for the former, whilst
the latter preferred inhumation.
The fact that Helbig interprets the meeting of peoples as the superimposition of
one over the other apparently stems from the thinking of the time, which was greatly
influenced by European imperialism. The German scholars generally shared the view
that it was chiefly the “Indo-Germanic” (not “Indo-European”) people who migrated
33 The influential German archaeologist Eduard Gerhard was one of the founders of the Instituto di
Corrispondenza Archeologica in 1829; cf. Delpino 1992, esp. 342; Platz-Horster 1992; Blanck 2000.
34 Fréret 1753; cf. Homo 1953, 68–69; Briquel 1991, 49–51.
35 Niebuhr 1811, 66, 73; cf. XIII.
36 Niebuhr 1811, 70.
37 Niebuhr 1811, 73.
38 Helbig 1879, 99–107.
39 Pigorini 1882.

south in more or less large numbers, subjugating the indigenous population and
forming an elite.40 They claimed that the Etruscans’ rise to become the culturally
leading people in Italy stemmed from the arrival of this new noble group.
The strong link between the academic statements regarding the origins of the
Etruscans and the ideological and political trends of the day was reflected in the 1920s
and 1930s in the fact that the equation “Etruscan = Indo-European” found prominent
supporters in Italy as well.41 In Germany from 1925 onwards, the highly influential lin-
guist Paul Kretschmer started claiming—in contrast to his earlier ideas—that a group
speaking Pelasgian and/or Raeto-Tyrsenian had migrated south from the region
between the Danube and the Balkans, which group in his view also “völkisch-sprach
lich” (“ethno-linguistically”) included the Etruscans.42 In Italy this thinking was sup-
ported by Alfredo Trombetti and Giulio Buonamici, as well as Luigi Pareti.43 A pre-
vious (“proto-Latin”) wave of “Indo-Germanic” immigrants, the so-called “Eastern
Italics” in the Eneolithic period, was followed by more recent “Indo-Germanic”
migrants, the Sabellians and the Umbrians of the Proto-Villanovan period, who prac-
ticed inhumation. The core of the Etruscans was represented by the proponents of the
Villanova culture. Kretschmer deduces this from the Terramare culture of northern
Italy.44 Similar statements by Friedrich Matz move into a clearly Nazi context.45 The
concept of the migration of Indo-Germanic peoples from the north was still propa-
gated by German researchers even after 1945, taking the form of the expansion of the
Indo-Germanic Illyrians.46 It was not until German pre-historians starting reflecting
on their history that this idea finally disappeared from academic works.
The extent to which this view was misled by prejudice is illustrated by the com-
pletely different way in which the same archaeological material was interpreted by
Gaetano de Sanctis. The cremators were said to be the Etruscans from the north; the
Italics originated from the Eneolithic Period.47
Recently, the linguist Frederik Woudhuizen picked up the notion of peoples
migrating from the north. He presupposes the equation of language and people,
40 Cf. e.g. von Duhn (1924, 120, 201, 349) who took it as a matter of fact that the “Indo-Germans” were
superior to all other peoples; he thought that the “embryonic germ of the subsequent Roman stately
feeling” [der embryonale Keim des späteren römischen Staatsgefühls] was to be located as early as in
this phenomenon.
41 An overview is offered by Pfiffig 1969, 10–12.
42 Kretschmer 1925; similarly, Vetter 1937.
43 Pareti 1926; Pareti 1952, 63–128.
44 The equation of Terramare and Italics is presupposed already by Duhn 1924.
45 Matz published his theses first in 1938 in the journal Neue Jahrbücher für Antike und deutsche
Bildung, which promoted Nazi-ideology and was edited by the Party member Helmut Berve; cf. also
Matz 1942.
46 Pittioni 1962.
47 De Sanctis 1956, 114–137; cf. Pallottino 1984, 89–90.

24 Christoph Ulf
which allows him to distinguish three layers “in the process of Indo-Europeanization
of Tuscany.” But his argument does not take notice of the methodological develop-
ments in historical research.48
2.3 The higher culture in the East
It was not until the inscription of Lemnos became well known and the significance of
the eastern influences on Etruscan Art were recognized that Herodotus, Hellanicus
and Thucydides were cited as relevant sources. Indeed, it was not until the Italics
were seen as the common ground for the Italian nation, following the unification of
Italy, that the autonomy and originality of the Etruscans, which had been so strongly
emphasized in the past, finally lost its dominance. Among Italian scholars, in 1885
Edoardo Brizio explained the eastward migration of the Etruscans by claiming that
Etruscan invaders of Tuscany and Emilia had brought a Orientalizing and subse-
quently “Grecizing” culture from the East, which was further developed than that of
the Indo-European, Umbrian cremators of the Villanovan culture.49
The German archaeologist Gustav Körte—who had previously supported the
hypothesis that the Etruscans had migrated from the north—fundamentally agreed
with this view.50 With respect to the Orientalizing phase of Etruscan development,
he dated the migration of the Etruscans back to the eighth century BCE. He too, saw
a meeting of two peoples as one superimposing itself upon another. He asserts that
a small number of Tyrsenian conquerors subjugated the Italic population, and both
merged together, giving rise to the Etruscan “nation.” With the help of the Turusha
named in the lists of conquered enemies of the Egyptian pharaohs Merenptah and
Ramesses III, Körte determines the origins of the invaders as “northern peoples” from
the islands in the Aegean, “ancestors of the Tyrsenians,” and pirates.51
Fritz Schachermeyr was also kin to this tradition. He spoke openly of a “mission
of Indo-Germanism.”52 Like Kretschmer, he believed that the “Indo-Germanic race”
had already spread to the Aegean in the Neolithic period. He explains the affinity
of the inscription of Lemnos with the Etruscan language by asserting that they had
come from the same roots (a pristine people or a linguistic substrate thereof, i.e. an
early Indo-Germanic Aegean language), linking this in with his highly suspect “Cul-
tural Morphology.” He claims that between 1600 and 1200 BCE the Etruscan people in
48 Woudhuizen 2006.
49 Cf. Pallottino 1984, 88–9, 103, 149–50.
50 Körte 1907, 731–735, with reference to K.O. Müller.
51 For an overview on the so-called “Sea Peoples,” see Sandars 1985; Ward and Jukowski 1992; Gitin,
Mazar, and Stern 1998; Oren 2000; and Aigner Foresti 2001, 121.
52 Schachermeyr 1929, 65.

western Asia Minor had lived outside the rule of the Hittites and the Achaeans; around
1200, in the course of the postulated Aegean migration, they fell to the lower cul-
tural level of the Greeks—which triggered the first partial Etruscan migration and the
establishment of colonies along the coast of Etruria. He continues that the Etruscans
became a seafaring people in the Aegean, establishing outposts on Lemnos, Lesbos
and in Caria to secure their trade routes. Around 800, a second wave of migration took
place, leading to the occupation of the Etrurian coast. He attempts to substantiate
these highly speculative constructions by referring to the myth of Telephus.53
Even though the idea gradually emerged in the 1920s and 1930s that the Etruscans
had migrated to Italy from the East,54 the route of the migration was interpreted in
many different ways and was colored by national traditions of thought. Accordingly,
Åke Åkerström states that the Villanova Culture was very reluctant to welcome stran-
gers or anything new. He places the home of the Etruscans in the region between the
Syrian coast, Cyprus and Rhodes, and sees the reason for migration in the expanding
Neo-Assyrian rulers’ need for metals.55 Léon Homo holds a very different view, iden-
tifying eastern features in almost all areas of Etruscan civilization; between 1200 and
1000 some Etruscans fled from the invasion of the Dorians—similar to the Normans—
with a small number of them reaching the east coast of Italy.56 Gösta Säflund, on the
other hand, asserts that two waves of migration took place in the first millennium,
during the second of which migrants from Lemnos and Imbros arrived at Etruria;57
Edmond Pottier believes that the Tyrsenians (Etruscans), as described by Hellanicus,
crossed the Adriatic Sea, whereas Ambros Pfiffig claims that the migrants from the
East were members of an urban culture in the Near East—a hypothesis first introduced
by André Piganiol.58 Without any indication that a critical view had been taken of the
ancient narratives, Robert Beekes recently collated all evidence supporting a migra-
tion from the east.59 Adriano La Regina states that a connection with Lydia must have
existed; Mario Torelli imagines that Tyrsenian “prospectors” from the Aegean landed
at the turn of the second to the first millennium on the Italic peninsula in their search
for metals and formed a nucleus there, which gave rise to the Etruscan people.60
As early as the 1950s, Raymond Bloch claimed that the ancient tradition of
Herodotus with regard to the Etruscans’ origins in Asia Minor had been confirmed
53 This construction was picked up by Hencken 1968, 603–646.

54 Krahe 1949, 38–39, calls all contradicting opinions laic; an overview about the most important
names is offered by Pallottino 1984, 87–89.
55 Åkerström 1943, 156–158.
56 Homo 1953; similarly, Ward-Perkins 1959 and Hawkes 1959.
57 Säflund 1957.
58 Pfiffig 1989, 8; Piganiol 1953, 328–352.
59 Beekes 2002.
60 La Regina 2004, esp. 88–91; he stresses the isolated sentence in Sen. Helv. 7.2: “Tuscos Asia sibi
vindicate”; Torelli 2009, esp. 142–143.

26 Christoph Ulf
by modern research.61 However, not long after, Jacques Heurgon claimed that resist-
ance to the hypothesis of their eastern origins was gaining strength due to the lack
of archaeological evidence to suggest the migration of a people in the first millen-
nium.62 In 2010, Jean-Marc Irollo noted: “No one today believes in the sudden arrival
in central Italy of a people from the Orient” [Aujuord’hui plus personne ne croit en
l’arrivée subite en Italie centrale d’un peuple venu d’Orient.]63
2.4 The formation of the Etruscans replaces Etruscheria
At the end of the nineteenth century, Johann Gustav Cuno assumed that the mixing of
the Etruscans from the north with the indigenous population had resulted in a new
culture.64 If in this mix the indigenous traditions are given credit for the emergence of
a higher level of culture, it becomes easier to marry the concept of migration with the
idea of Etruscheria. This is exactly what Jean Bérard did when he postulated migra-
tion from the East. The arrival of Tyrsenian Pelasgians in Italy into the late Bronze
Age65 triggered an (Etruscan) renaissance of the Tyrsenian tradition which went back
as far as prehistoric times and had been violated by Indo-Germanic groups. In more
recent times, Jean-Paul Thuillier, for example, has followed this line of thought in
one important respect by again equating the Villanovan culture with the Etruscan
culture.66
The Renaissance and Risorgimento are strikingly close together—both aim
to achieve unity once more. The impact of the Fascist state on the unity of Italy is
reflected in the names chosen for the country’s academic institutions. The Istituto
di Studi Etruschi ed Italici, founded in 1927, clearly indicates the political intention
as does the Centro di Studio del Consiglio Nazionale delle Ricerche per l’Archeologia
etrusco-italica, after known as the Istituto per l’Archeologia Etrusco-Italica and now
as the Istituto di Studi sul Mediterraneo Antico.67 At the same time, academic contri-
butions reflected the idea that the “Italic” elements were blended, and that none of
them dominated. Potential external influences could do nothing to change this. This
thinking was established by a series of mainly Italian scholars such as Pericle Ducati
and Bartolomeo Nogara, but also scholars such as Marcel Renard and Fritz Altheim.68
61 Bloch 1954, 13–14, 23–24; cf. also Bloch 1972.

62 Heurgon 1961.
63 Irollo 2010, 54.
64 Cuno 1888, esp. 17, 778, 826–829.
65 Bérard 1949; 1957, 470–486.
66 Thuillier 1992.
67 Cf. Pallottino 1984, 19–21.
68 Ducati 1927a; 1938; Nogara 1933; Renard 1941; Altheim 1950.

Based on the number and quality of publications that appeared in this vein, Massimo
Pallottino clearly stands out.69
Pallottino does not follow any of the ancient sources directly but selects those
elements that support his ideas of the Etruscans. He claims, for example, that the link
Herodotus made between the Tyrsenians and the Pelasgians (Hdt. 1.57) was based on
the memory of an old linguistic connection between pre-Hellenic peoples that was
predominant in the period following the Trojan War.70 However, he states that the
toponymic arguments do not allow for any reliable conclusions about the Pelasgians
who spread to the west; the argument based on the seafaring peoples was, he con-
tinues, problematic because the Turusha may have come from the West. The inscrip-
tion of Lemnos does not support the immigration theory because it could simply be
two dialects of the same language.71 The archaeological findings do not provide any
evidence for a wave of migration from the east nor from the north. The distinction
between inhumation and cremation cannot be used to identify ethnicity (autochtho-
nous Tyrsenians who practiced inhumation and Indo-Europeans who preferred cre-
mation). The Villanovan culture cannot be equated with that of the Umbrians, the
comparison of the name Rasenna with the Raeti is no more than a dalliance. Pallot-
tino continues that Ephorus had proven that the Greeks did not dare to venture into
the western Mediterranean in the eighth and seventh centuries for fear of encounter-
ing the Tyrsenians. Moreover, the objects from the Orient found in Etruria did not
come from the same area as that ascribed to the Tyrsenian immigrants. As a result,
the term “Etruscans” should be limited to the historical and verifiable reality of the
“nation” between the eighth and the first centuries BCE—the Etruscans became a
people through a process of formation. The decisive impetus was provided by the
impression that the “malleable cultures beyond the sea had made upon the still
rather primitive and malleable soul of the early Etruscans” at the beginning of the
Villanovan culture. He concludes that this “ferment” had been firmly planted in the
intellectual thinking of the nation.72
By propagating this argument, which was impossible to separate from the politi-
cal developments in Italy after the 1920s, Pallottino eradicated the main weakness
inherent in Etruscheria. He permitted influences of many kinds and was at the same
time able to present an image of a self-determining group, despite his decision to
qualify his definition of “people.”73
69 Pallottino 1942; 1947.

70 Pallottino 1948–49.
71 For the various strands of the ongoing debate cf. Steinbauer 1999 (“indogermanische
Vorgängersprache”) and de Simone 1996; 2008; 2011, and chapters 7 and 17 Benelli.
72 Pallottino 1984, 110. This thesis was supported from the beginning e.g. by Hawkes 1959.
73 For the lasting influence of this view see the 1986 book edited by Giovanni Pugliese Carratelli
Rasenna, which has the motto “antiquam exquirite matrem” (Verg. Aen. 3.96).

28 Christoph Ulf
By contrast, Luciana Aigner Foresti points out that it remains unclear what form
this postulated “ferment” took and the impact it had; it opens up the possibility that
the historical “Etruscan” culture was formed through a language switch within a
small region in Italy and within a short space of time. By drawing the conclusion
that the Etruscans emerged before the tenth century from a mixture of Italic-Umbrian-
speaking indigenous tribes and a group of people living in the north Aegean, she
approaches once more the position held by Pallottino.74
3 From the narrative to the unavoidable formation

of a model
Shortly after World War II, a congress financed by the CIBA Foundation discussed
whether genetic characteristics could be used to answer the question of autochthony
and migration on the basis of examining blood types.75 The euphoria this triggered
once again reflected the common pattern of selectively confirming one’s own expec-
tations, as is illustrated, among others, by Jacques Heurgon, who saw the “birth and
rebirth of Italy” in “the same cradle,” i.e. in Etruria, thus confirmed.76 In the past two
decades, the possibility of indigenous continuity and migration from the East has
been examined with the help of DNA tests, which has caught the media’s attention
because the link to the East was set in the context of Turkey hoping to present itself
as the root of European culture. John Ward-Perkins has already spoken out against
simplifications arising from such attempts.77 The problems inherent in such under-
takings (e.g. problematic samples, references to ancient written sources as a basis for
making evaluations, and only partially received archaeological positions) have been
discussed in detail by Phil Perkins,78 who makes the important point that the “Pal-
lottino consensus” assumes the existence of an “Etruscan people” even though the
“formation of the Etruscans” is equated with an ethnogenesis.
Where it has been possible to analyze ethnogeneses in well known historical con-
texts, the findings leave no room for ambiguity: an ethnos, or people, is not a biologi-
cal unit, it is always an intellectual construct, which receives its credibility and legiti-
mization through a “beginning” projected to a point in the past.79 These constructs
comprise conscious leaps of the imagination; they operate with inventions and are,
74 Aigner Foresti 2001, 122; Aigner Foresti (2009, 18–19) refers to Meiser 1996; see also Campanile
1991.
75 Wolstenholme and O’Connor 1959; cf. Aigner Foresti 1974, 55–57.
76 Heurgon 1964.
77 Ward-Perkins 1959.
78 Perkins 2009; Jones 2006, 46–48; see also chapter 8 Perkins.
79 Pohl and Mehofer 2010; Curta 2005; Pohl 1998; Freitag 2007; de Simone 2008, 179.

above all, steered by intentions that largely depend on the interests at stake at any
given time.80
In the Greek context, the name of the fictitious founder of the Tyrsenian people
was derived from the name of the people. This served to provide a more or less vague
label for the initially little known West. As geographical awareness increased, the
name gained more meaning; even so, it was always defined far more by intertextual
contexts than by concrete historical and geographical knowledge. The name of the
Tusci has a similar quality; it is a name—with perhaps Umbrian roots—which was
used to refer, from the Roman point of view, to a foreign, loosely specified or non-spec-
ifiable group of populations and settlements north (and south) of Latium. Dionysius
of Halicarnassus contrasted the two names with the other name Rasenna; however,
his claim that the designation was chosen by the group to refer to itself, postulates the
notion of an Etruscan people and thus proves to be of secondary importance.81
The second imagined area is that of the Etruscan language. To date, it has not
been possible to define its characteristics with any degree of clarity. The assumption
that it was some kind of “Aegean” substrate requires the evolutionary tree theory—
stemming from the ideas of the Romantic period—to see in this substrate the common
ground for the Etruscan language and that of the inscription of Lemnos. This is dia-
metrically opposed to the possibility of a language switch and the call in linguistics to
define the structure of the Etruscan language on the basis of existing Etruscan texts.
This possibility demonstrates just how unconvincing the imagined firm link between
language and people actually is when it is treated as an historical reality.
The third field in which imagination, inventions and interests play a central role
is archaeology. To avoid the interferences between the ancient written sources, the
hypotheses regarding the Etruscan language and the interpretations of archaeologi-
cal findings that lead to the circular reasoning so frequent in academic debates, it is
necessary to follow the fundamental call in the methodological debate in archaeology
to contextualize and interpret archaeological findings initially on their own.82 The
explicit formation of models widely discussed in the methodological debate amongst
archaeologists thus serves as a foundation. The archaeological settings, local and
trans-regional correlations between findings can only be given meaning in a scientifi-
cally transparent manner, where specifically defined and clearly described analogical
cases from the fields of anthropology and history are used. This, in fact, forms the
basis for the more recent reflections on the possible internal structures of the settle-
ments and cities and the connections between them.83 These reflections become all
80 These questions of fundamental methodological significance are discussed by Anderson 2006;

Hobsbawm and Ranger 1983; Gehrke 2010.
81 Presumably the best analogy, the name Germans, is discussed by Timpe 1991; 2006.
82 See e.g. Snodgrass 2006.
83 These questions are wittily treated by Aigner Foresti and Siewert 2006.

30 Christoph Ulf
the more compelling, the less they depend upon the alleged knowledge of the “Etrus-
cans” in the ancient written sources.
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Martin Korenjak
3 The Etruscans in Ancient Literature
Abstract: Our overview of the ancient literary sources about the Etruscans is less than satisfying.
Although some attempts at covering single thematic fields as well as certain literary genres have been
made, the only pioneering collection is incomplete.
It is possible to review the ancient terminology for Etruscans, Etruscan and the like, give an
overview of the most important authors and texts and finally try to characterize the ancient literary
evidence as a whole, pointing out its limitations and assessing the value it nonetheless has.
Keywords: Greek sources, Latin sources, Greek literature, Latin literature
Introduction
Our overview of the ancient literary sources about the Etruscans is less than satisfy-
ing. Although some attempts at covering single thematic fields1 as well as certain lit-
erary genres2 have been made, the only collection that aims at comprehensiveness is
Giulio Buonamici’s Fonti di storia etrusca.3 Although one has to be grateful for his pio-
neering effort, his corpus is incomplete, ill-organized, lacks any commentary and pre-
sents the texts only in Italian translation, sometimes of dubious quality; that the page
numbers in the index often lead astray does not help either. However, there are good
grounds for hope, as a project entitled FaREP (Fontes ad Res Etruscas Pertinentes),
directed by Giovanni Colonna and executed chiefly by Daniele F. Maras, Laura M.
Michetti and Elena Tassi Scandone, is underway at La Sapienza in Rome. Within a few
years, it will hopefully result in a collection of sources that can replace Buonamici’s.
The short survey that follows falls into three parts: It will start with a brief review
of the ancient terminology for “Etruscans,” “Etruscan” and the like. After this, an
overview of the most important authors and texts shall be given. Finally, I will try to
characterize the ancient literary evidence as a whole, pointing out its limitations and
assessing the value it nonetheless has.
This article has profited from the generous help of Petra Amann, Daniele F. Maras, Simona Marchesini
and Alessandro Naso. My heartfelt thanks to all of them.
1 For religion, cf. de Grummond 2006; regarding divination in particular, many sources are discussed
in Thulin 1906, Bloch 1977, 43–128, and vols. 4–9 of Briquel and Guittard 1985–; on piracy, see Giuffrida
Ientile 1983; on Latium and Etruria, McKay 1986.
2 For historiography, see Musti 1989.
3 Buonamici 1939. The index of sources in Colonna 2005, vol. 4, 2553–66, can be used to fill some of
Buonamici’s gaps. Barker and Rasmussen 1998, 85–116 combine a cursory overview of literary and
epigraphic sources with one of Etruscan society.
36 Martin Korenjak
1 Terminology and Semantics

The oldest Greek sources that can be related to the Etruscans call them Τυρσηνοί or
(doric) Τυρσανοί. The Attic form Τυρρηνοί, due to progressive assimilation ρσ > ρρ,
is first found in Old Comedy. It becomes the most common term in later times. The
adjective, Τυρρηνικός, and the name of the country, Τυρρηνία, are deduced from the
ethnicon in a regular manner. These terms are often taken over into Latin as Tyrrheni,
Tyrrhenicus, Tyrrhenia. The most common Latin expressions for the people and the
country, however, are Tusci, Etrusci (both subst. and adj.) and Etruria.
The etymological significance of these denominations is unknown. They may be
of non-Etruscan origin, since the Etruscans seem to have called themselves ras(en)
na, as testified by a number of inscriptions and Dionysius of Halicarnassus (Ant. Rom.
1.30.3).4 The only thing we can be reasonably sure of is that all Greek and Latin appel-
lations are cognate among each other and derived from a stem turs–/ trus–, to which
Umbrian turskus also belongs.5
The Greeks and Romans themselves compensated for this lack of knowledge by
a number of speculative etymologies that are patently false but can give some first
clues to their view of the people: For example, Τυρρηνοί was derived ἀπὸ τοῦ θύειν,
from sacrificing (Serv. Aen. 8.270), since the Etruscans were thought to be extremely
religious, and from τύρσεις, the towers in which they were supposed to live (Dion.
Hal. Ant. Rom. 1.30.2). In turn, τύραννος was deduced from Τυρρηνοί on account of
their supposed cruelty.6
One may doubt whether the first writers to mention Τυρσηνοί had a clear idea
of the identity of the people they called by this name. Hesiod or rather a continuator
of his Theogony7 knows them as Italians but seems unable to distinguish between
them and other inhabitants of the peninsula (Theog. 1011–16).8 The author of the
Hymn to Bacchus (6th or 5th century BCE?) sees them only as pirates and makes no
attempt at locating them at all (Hymn. Bacch. 7–8).9 Sophocles (497–406 BCE) speaks
4 See recently Bonfante 2002; de Simone 2004, 85–93.

5 Some opinions on the question are discussed in Giuffrida Ientile 1983, 9–11. Bader 2003 deduces the
appellations from Indo-European trh2-, “to cross,” but her argument is wildly speculative.
6 A number of sources for the names of the Etruscans and their country, together with some further
etymological speculation, are cited in Buonamici 1939, 1–2, 140–43; on the ancient etymologies, see
also Drews 1992, 36–37.
7 West 1966 prints the passage in question, where the Τυρσηνοί are called subjects of Agrius and
Latinus and said to live “in the recess of holy islands,” as genuine but dates it significantly later
than the rest of the text, namely to the middle of the sixth century B.C.E., in his introduction and
commentary (40–48, 435–36). See also Horsfall 1973, 78; Barker and Rasmussen 1998, 84.
8 Horsfall 1973, 78. Dionysius (Ant. Rom. 1.25.5) attests that Italy as a whole was still called Τυρρηνία
in the fifth century BCE.
9 Cf. Giuffrida Ientile 1983, 33–47.

3 The Etruscans in Ancient Literature 37
of “Pelasgian Tyrsenians” (Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 1.25.2 = TGrF 4 fr. 270), and the idea
that Τυρσηνοί is a synonym for Πελασγοί was widespread in early times, as Diony-
sius explains ad locum.10 Hecataeus (c. 550–490 BCE), however, already knows Elba
as an “island of the Τυρσηνοί” (Steph. Byz. s.v. Αἰθάλη = FGrH 1 F 59), while Pindar
(Pyth. 1.71–75) mentions Τυρσανοί in a truly historical context when he celebrates the
victory of Hieron I over them in the battle of Cumae in 474 BCE. From the late 5th
century BCE onwards, most references to Τυρρηνοί in Greek and later to Tusci and
Etrusci in Latin sources clearly bear on Etruscans in our sense, that is, on the inhabit-
ants of modern Tuscany as well as of the colonized regions in the Campania and the
Po valley.11 Harmony is not complete, though, as a number of sources continue to
mention Τυρρηνοί in the Aegean.12
2 The Literary Sources

The Etruscans kindled great interest in the Greeks and Romans, especially in the
latter. There are few “barbarian” peoples (Jews, Egyptians and possibly Carthagin-
ians spring to mind) about whom so much was written in antiquity. The following,
roughly chronological overview will thus necessarily be very selective. From the more
than 180 authors in Buonamici’s collection—not exhaustive itself, as mentioned
before—only a small fraction can be named and discussed.
Until the 5th century BCE, no writer seems to have engaged systematically with
the Etruscans. References to them, some of which have been mentioned above, are
few and far between. They appear casually and concern single details of their history,
customs and the like; for example, most relevant passages in Greek tragedy just speak
in passing of the “Etruscan trumpet” (Aesch. Eum. 567–68; Eur. Rhes. 988–89, Phoen.
1377–78, Heracl. 830–31). If Etruscans are mentioned in comedy, they are often asso-
ciated with certain luxury goods (Poll. Onom. 7.86 = Cratinus, PCG fr. 139 σανδάλια
Τυρρηνικά, “Etruscan sandals”; Ath. 15.700c = Pherecrates, PCG fr. 90).13
This changed when Greek historiography came into its own in the course of the
5th century BCE. As many of the first historians wrote universal history, it is under-
standable that the Etruscans, too, caught their eye. Pride of place is due to Herodotus
(c. 490–420 BCE): his narration of how half of the Lydians under their leader Tyrsenus,
son of king Atys, emigrated to the land of the Umbrians because of a long-standing
famine (Hdt. 1.94) was repeated by many ancient writers and initiated the notorious
10 On the ancient tradition about the Etruscans as Pelasgians, see Briquel 1984 and the brief but
illuminating remarks in Musti 1989, 34–36. Some instances are cited below in part 2.
11 On the gradual clarification of an originally vague concept, see Musti 1989, 30.
12 See, e.g., Giuffrida Ientile 1983, 9–32. For some examples, see below, part 2.
13 Cf. Mansuelli 1984, 355.

38 Martin Korenjak
discussion about the origin of the Etruscans that still is not definitively settled today.14
His account of the sea battle of Alalia in 540 BCE, where Etruscans and Phoenicians
fought the Phoceans residing there (Hdt. 1.166–67), is another important piece of infor-
mation. Besides Herodotus, a number of contemporary or somewhat younger histori-
ans also wrote about the Etruscans: Hellanicus of Lesbos (c. 480–395 BCE) thinks them
Pelasgians who in ancient times emigrated from the Aegean to their present dwelling
places (FGrH 4 F 4), but also says that some of them still live on Lesbos (and Lemnos?)
in his own day (FGrH 4 F 71c, F 92). Thucydides (c. 460–395 BCE) mainly focuses on
military history, informing us about the Etruscan collaboration with Athens during
the Sicilian expedition (Thuc. 6.88, 6.103, 7.53–54).15 Ephorus (c. 405–330 BCE) knows
the Etruscans as dangerous pirates who infested Sicily since the 8th century BCE at the
latest (Strabo 6.2.2 = FGrH 70 F 137a).16 Theopompus (c. 378–320 BCE) is extensively
quoted by Athenaeus on the libertine morals of the people (Ath. 12.517d–518b = FGrH
115 F 204).17 He also attempts, as Hesiodus had done before him, to integrate them in
the framework of Greek myth, naming Cortona as the death place of Odysseus (schol.
Lycoph. Alex. 806 = FGrH 115 F 354).
Historiographic interest in the Etruscans seamlessly continued into the Hellenis-
tic era. An early and particularly arresting testimony comes from the Atthidographer
Philochorus (died 261 BCE), who continues the “Aegean” tradition; he has the Etrus-
cans first reside in Athens itself, then emigrate to Lemnos and Imbros in the wake of
conflicts with the Athenians, and finally carry off some Attic girls while they are cel-
ebrating the Brauronia (schol. Lucian Catapl. 25 = FGrH 328 F 100). This seems to be
quite closely related to a contribution of Anticlides of Athens (living after Alexander)
who calls the Etruscans Pelasgians who emigrated to Italy, while others settled on
Lemnos and Imbros (Strabo 5.2.4 = FGrH 140 F 21).18 Timaeus (c. 345–250 BCE) once
more attributes loose morals to the people, as he asserts that their slave girls have
to attend them naked (Ath. 4.153d and 12.517d = FGrH 566 F 1). He also exemplifies a
further way of linking Etruria to the Greek mythographical tradition, namely through
the journey of the Argonauts (Diod. Sic. 4.56.3 = FGrH 566 F 85).
The tendency to draw the Etruscans into the orbit of Greek myth is also shared by
the Hellenistic poet Lycophron (c. 320–after 280 BCE) who has Odysseus and Aeneas
meet Tarchon and Tyrrhenus at Cortona (Alex. 1238–49), where he also locates the
former’s grave in the wake of Theopompus (Alex. 805–806). In addition, he provides
us with a reading of the alleged immigration from Lydia that Herodotus himself would
14 See chapter 2 Ulf.

15 But see also Thuc. 4.109, where Etruscans, identified with Pelasgians, are located on Lemnos, in
Athens and on Mount Athos (cf. Giuffrida Ientile 1983, 17–19).
16 Cf. Giuffrida Ientile 1983, 51–54.
17 As Amann 1999 shows, he is more interested in a colorful “Herodotean” portrait of a barbarian
ethnos than, as often assumed, in exposing the negative effects of τρυφή.
18 On the whole complex “Etruscans / Pelasgians / Athens,” see Briquel 1984, 283–95.

have liked, contextualizing it as one episode of an ongoing east-west conflict (Alex.

1351–61).19
Between the Late Classical period and early Hellenism, Etruscan customs also
began to arouse the ethnographic interest of Academics and Peripatetics. Aristotle
(384–322 BCE) is informed about concrete aspects of Etruscan politics such as a com-
mercial treaty between them and Carthage (Pol. 3.5.10–11). Some fragments from his
dialogues and Τυρρηνῶν νόμιμα (forming part of his Νόμιμα βαρβαρικά) speak of
the cruelty of the Etruscans, their predilection for aulos music and their permissive
manners (frr. 60, 607, 608 Rose). As far as the last point is concerned, Heraclides Pon-
ticus (c. 390–310 BCE) follows suit (fr. 611.44 Rose).
The most important development of the Hellenistic era in the present context was
the rise of Roman literature, which had a special interest in things Etruscan: Since the
late third century BCE, the authors who tell us something about the people mainly
are either Romans or Greeks closely associated with Rome. At the beginning, most of
them are historians, as in the Greek world. The first fragments come from Fabius Pictor
(fl. c. 200 BCE), who mentions the Etruscan contribution to early Roman history in his
account of the latter (FRH 1 F 12, 15–17). He is followed by Cato the Elder (c. 234–149
BCE), who in his Origines talks, inter alia, about the former Etruscan predominance in
Italy (Serv. Aen. 11.567 = FRH 3 F 1.13). A couple of decades later, Polybius (c. 200–120
BCE) shows himself to be well informed, as he knows not only, unsurprisingly, how
the Etruscans were subdued by the Romans (Polyb. 1.6.4–6) but also that their settle-
ment areas were larger before his own time, including the Po valley and Campania
(Polyb. 2.17.1–3). An important fragment (FGrH 87 F 119 = Diod. Sic. 5.40) has come
down to us from Posidonius (c. 135–51 BCE):20 He stresses the earlier bravery and
inventiveness of the people but maintains that they have now been seduced by the
fertility of their country, succumbed to luxury and decadence and therefore lost their
ancient power. Diodorus Siculus (first century BCE), who transmits this piece, is the
next author to present us with extensive remarks on Etruscan history (thalassocracy,
loss of the Po valley) and culture (piracy, haruspicy, influence on Rome); he mainly
bases his text on earlier Hellenistic historiography, but also makes use of contempo-
rary discussions.21 Even more information is provided by Dionysius of Halicarnassus
and Livy. The former, among numerous other remarks (e.g. his narrative about the
attack of the Etruscans and other peoples on Cumae in 524 BCE, Ant. Rom. 7.2–3),
devotes a section of his prehistory of Italy to the Etruscans. He rejects the Herodotean
story of a Lydian origin (relying especially on Xanthus of Lydia who never had heard
19 For the interpretation of Lycophron’s cryptic text, see the new edition by Hurst and Kolde 2008.
The respective scholia can be interesting, too.
20 Felix Jacoby later changed his mind and attributed the piece to Timaeus (FGrH 566 F 1), but his
view did not gain general acceptance. On Posidonius and the Etruscans, see Heurgon 1962.
21 Firpo 1997.

40 Martin Korenjak
about it) as well as any other kind of immigration thesis and as the first extant author
considers the people as autochthonous in its present area of settlement (Ant. Rom.
1.26–30).22 In Livy’s first books, which treat the beginnings of Rome and the Roman
Kingdom, the Etruscans are almost omnipresent. Later on, in the Early Republic, the
subjugation of Etruria, beginning with Veii, is an important issue.23
Besides the historians, antiquarians and subject-specific writers come now to
the foreground. The polyhistor Varro (c. 116–27 BCE) shows a keen interest in many
aspects of Etruscan culture, especially in agriculture and religion, and in its influence
on Rome as reflected in Etruscan toponyms, personal names and other words. Some
of his notes are of considerable importance for Roman cultural history (e.g., Ling.
5.8: Mons Caelius named after the Etruscan leader Caele Vibenna, now epigraphi-
cally attested; Ling. 5.32: foundations of cities in Latium Etrusco ritu).24 The geogra-
pher Strabo (c. 63 BCE–after 23 CE) gives a concise overview of Etruria, including not
only its physical geography and settlements, but also, on occasion, its economy and
history (Strabo 5.2.2–9).25 Cicero is the first representative, as well as one of the most
informative, of the long-lasting interest in Etruscan religion and its contribution to
Roman religion, especially in divination, which he discusses in detail in De natura
deorum and above all in De divinatione.26 Vitruvius’s De architectura informs us about
Etruscan traces in the Roman building tradition such as principles of city planning
(De arch. 1.7.1–2), the Tuscan order in temple building (De arch. 4.6.6–4.7.5) or the
Tuscan atrium (De arch. 6.3.1).27 The work is our most important literary source by far
on this aspect of Etruscan civilization.
Numerous remarks on Etruria and the Etruscans are scattered rather casually
throughout the works of Augustan poets such as Virgil, Horace, Propertius and Ovid.28
Important passages include the self-presentation of the Etruscan god Voltumna/
Vertumnus in Propertius 4.2, and above all the second half of the Aeneid, in which
Aeneas and the Trojans are presented as descendants of the Etruscans, and the cities
of Etruria are viewed with obvious sympathy by the narrator and play a major role in
the fight for Latium.29 Virgil draws extensively on mythological and antiquarian lore,
parts of which are preserved by his ancient commentators, especially Servius (late
fourth century CE).
22 On the Dionysian tradition of Etruscan autochthony, see, e.g., Linderski 1992 and Briquel 1993, on
the much-discussed controversy between Herodotus and Dionysius Scullard 1966 and Drews 1992,
31–33.
23 Cf., e.g., Bloch 1967; for an interesting episode, Firpo 1998, 251–56.
24 On Varro and Etruscan divination, see Capdeville 1998, 395–97.
25 On part of Strabo’s overview, see Musti 1989, 19–25.
26 Cf., e.g., Pease 1963; Guillaumont 2006.
27 On the orientation of religious buildings in Vitruvius, see Chevallier 1993.
28 Cf. Firpo 1998. For remarks on divination, see Guittard and Briquel 1991; Macfarlane 1996.
29 Horsfall 1973; Pallottino 1985; Wilhelm 1992.

The end of the Republic and the following decades also witnessed the only
examples of ancient Etruscological monographs we know of. At least two books of
Τυρρηνικά are attested for Sostratus of Nysa30 (first half of first century BCE). The
only fragment preserved (Stob. Flor. 4.20.72 = FGrH 23 F 3) is mythographic. The
famous grammarian and antiquarian Verrius Flaccus (c. 55 BCE–20 CE) wrote Rerum
Etruscarum libri according to the Scholia Veronensia on Verg. Aen. 10.183 and 10.200.
Finally, the emperor Claudius (10 BCE–54 CE) left no less than twenty books under the
same title, according to Suetonius (Claud. 42). One interesting piece of information
that probably figured there was also incorporated in a speech Claudius held at Lyon
(CIL XIII 1668.16–25); it concerns Servius Tullius who allegedly came to Rome as a
sodalis of Caele Vibenna under his Etruscan name, Mastarna.31
With Claudius, we have reached the post-Augustan era. By now, the Etruscan
civilization is virtually extinct and our sources therefore become more and more
derivative. Genres proceeding by way of excerption from older sources come to the
foreground: antiquarian literature, encyclopedic writing, lexicography and so on.
This is confirmed ex negativo by a short look at historiography and poetry: little of
importance that we would not know from older sources comes from Velleius Pater-
culus (c. 20 BCE–after 31 CE), Tacitus (c. 55–120 CE), Florus (second century CE) and
the abridged version of Pompeius Trogus by Justinus (second / third century CE?). It
appears significant that the most interesting remark from one of these authors con-
cerns the imminent loss of Etruscan traditions under the early Principate and once
more involves Claudius, who has the Roman senate decree measures to prevent the
extinction of haruspicy (Tac. Ann. 11.15).32 The exempla collection of Valerius Maximus
(writing under Tiberius) is not more useful, with the possible exception of Val. Max.
1.1.1 in which the author explains how the Romans used to send some of their chil-
dren to Etruria in the old times to let them learn the Etrusca disciplina there.33 Poets
such as Lucan (39–65 CE), Silius Italicus (c. 25–100 CE), Statius (c. 40–96 CE), Martial
(c. 40–102 CE) and Juvenal (c. 60–after 127 CE) do not contribute much more than
well-known commonplaces.34
Authors concerned with specific disciplines of knowledge are somewhat more
helpful. The Quaestiones naturales of Seneca the Younger (c. 4 CE–65 CE) contain
some interesting notes on Etruscan ceraunoscopy, especially on the classification of
30 Felix Jacoby seems to think that this name is made up (cf. his commentary on FGrH 22–23), but he
does not explain his reasons.
31 See Maras 2010; against attribution to the Τυρρηνικά, Briquel 1995a, 91. How well-informed
Claudius probably was has been underlined by Heurgon 1953. His predecessor and nephew Caligula
apparently was an Etruscophile, too (Bonfante 1990).
32 Cf. Briquel 1995a, 89–91. On Tacitus and haruspicy in general, Briquel 1995.
33 Whether this is anticipated by Cicero (Div. 1.92) is disputed and depends on the text of the latter.
34 On their view of Etruscan divination, see the relevant items in Briquel and Guittard 1995.

42 Martin Korenjak
thunderbolts (Q. Nat. 2.32.2, 2.39–41).35 Pausanias (second century CE) gives us a pre-
cious piece of information about relations between Etruria and Greece in the Archaic
period when he tells us that the Etruscan king Arimnestus was the first of the barbar-
ians to donate a votive offering at Olympia (Paus. 5.12.5). Tertullian (c. 160–220 CE)
is the first of a number of Christian writers who mention the religious opinions and
customs of Etruria in the context of their criticism of ancient religion (cf., e.g., his
list of Etruscan city deities in Apol. 24.8). The collection of writings by the Roman
land surveyors, the Corpus Agrimensorum Romanorum (compiled step by step over
the Imperial period), can lay claim to special attention for a number of reasons: Its
texts can be used with due caution to reconstruct pre-Roman forms of land ownership
in Etruria, that is an important aspect of Etruscan economy,36 contain information
about how Roman limitatio founded itself on the Etrusca disciplina (pp. 10.20–11.8,
131.3–132.5 Thulin) and feature the so-called “Prophecy of Vegoia” (vol. 1, p. 350 Lach-
mann). The latter may be a rare example of a Latin text going back to an Etruscan orig-
inal; the prophetic nymph Vegoia seems to voice Etruscan protest against the Roman
reform of land-ownership in Italy in 91 BCE.37
It is writers with encyclopedic interests, however, who provide the amplest infor-
mation during this era. The Elder Pliny (23–79 CE) has some forty notes on Etruscan
geography, antiquities, cultural history, religion and mirabilia of all sorts; for part of
this material, he is our only or at least our oldest extant source.38 Plutarch (c. 45–125
CE) is greatly interested in the Etruscan involvement in Roman prehistory as well as
in Etruscan history and cultural history itself. Among other things, he comments on
Etruscan wanderings in the Aegean, Laconia, and Crete (Quaest. Graec. 21), an oracle
of Tethys in Etruria (Rom. 18) and Pythagoras as an Etruscan (Quaest. conv. 8.7.1).39
In De verborum significatu, a second century CE extract by Sextus Pompeius Festus
of a lost treatise by Verrius Flaccus, and in the secondary abridgement of Festus by
Paul the Deacon (c. 725–799 CE), some twenty entries provide us with information
about Etruscan religion and vocabulary.40 Aelianus (c. 170–after 222 CE) likes to talk
about Etruscan fishing, hunting (with the help of music! NA 12.46) and the luxuri-
ous, decadent Etruscan lifestyle in general. Athenaeus (fl. c. 200 CE) not only trans-
mits the above-mentioned fragment of Theopompus, but also collects a number of
other remarks on cultural history and mythology from older sources, which he always
cites by name. In his De die natali (238 CE), Censorinus reports the opinions of the
35 Guillaumont 1995 (who also treats the extispicy scene in Sen. Oed. 291–402); Capdeville 1998,
403–09.
36 Tassi Scandone 2009.
37 See, e.g., Heurgon 1959, Santini 2002 and the chapter 37 Marcone in this volume.
38 See, e.g., Capdeville 1998, 409–13; Cotta Ramosino 2003.
39 Cf. Champeaux 1996.
40 Grandazzi 1993.

Etruscans on the duration of human life and sketches their famous saecula doctrine,
basing himself largely on Varro (DN 11.6, 14.6, 17.5–6).41
Moving on to Late Antiquity, the predominance of antiquarian, encyclopedic and
lexicographical writing becomes even more striking. Among authors of more specific
interests, the apologist Arnobius (died c. 330 CE) sees Etruscan religion as an extreme
case of pagan superstition, calling Etruria genetrix et mater superstitionis (Adv. nat.
7.26). Some of his remarks on it—for example, his remarks about the four kinds of
Penates and the twelve dei consentes et complices of the Etruscan pantheon (Adv. nat.
3.40)—are quite intriguing.42 The only historian who contributes something remark-
able is Ammianus Marcellinus (c. 330–395 CE). He, too, is exclusively interested in
Etruscan religion but sees it in a more positive light, as he approvingly notes the per-
sisting role of Etruscan haruspicy and religious books in Roman state affairs. He may
have been personally familiar with some of these texts, which he cites under specific
titles (e.g., Amm. Marc. 23.5.10, libri exercituales).43 Rutilius Namatianus, by contrast,
paints a tableau of decay and conjures up historical reminiscences as he sails along
the coast of Etruria in De reditu suo (416 CE).
The antiquarian interests of Macrobius (c. 385–after 430 CE) include Etruscan
mythical prehistory, cultural history, language and especially religion. Of particular
interest are two remarks, which he implies go back to Etruscan ostentaria, on the divi-
natory value of unusual colors of sheep and on arbores infelices (Sat. 3.7.2, 3.20.3).44
Martianus Capella (fifth century CE) also focuses on Etruscan religion. Among the
pertinent passages, an overview of the sky and its divine inhabitants (Mart. Cap.
1.2.45–60) stands out as a reflection of Etruscan cosmology, since the sky is divided
into sixteen regions according to Etruscan practice, but the details are a bewilder-
ing mess.45 John the Lydian (490–after 560 CE), who was attracted to the Etruscans
because of his curiosity about Roman antiquities and perhaps also because of his own
Lydian origin, has much to say about their cultural and religious influence on Rome
(cf., e.g., the preface to De magistratibus). He cites old and trustworthy authors such
as Varro and in De ostentis (praef. 2–3) even invokes a literary dialogue between the
famous Tages, a sage, gray-haired child, who was plowed out of the soil and became
the founder of Etruscan religion,46 and the culture hero Tarchon as well as other Etrus-
can writings. On top of it, De ostentis contains a brontoscopic calendar (Ost. 27–38),
a piece on divination from earthquakes (Ost. 54–58) and a weather calendar (Ost.
59–70), all of which John claims to go back via Roman translators (Nigidius Figulus
41 Freyburger 1999.
42 Champeaux 1999.
43 Berger 2005.
44 Guittard 1994.
45 Weinstock 1946.
46 Domenici and Maderna 2007, 20–27, 40–41 n. 34.

44 Martin Korenjak
[fr. 83 Swoboda], a Vicellius and a Claudius Tuscus respectively) to Tages and Etruscan
holy literature in general. It is unclear, however, if there ever were Etruscan originals
to these pieces and how much genuinely Etruscan lore they transmit.47 Hesychius of
Alexandria (fifth century CE?) notably contributes to our knowledge of the Etruscan
lexicon. The Ethnika of Stephanus of Byzantium (6th century CE) contain many entries
on Etruscan cities and provide some material concerning the question of Etruscan
presence in the Aegean.48
At the dawn of the Middle Ages, the Etymologiae of Isidore of Seville (c. 560–636
CE) comprise some twenty entries on Etruscan subjects, but only a handful of ety-
mologies (Etym. 10.159: lanista; 18.14: cassis, 18.57: veles)49 are not known from older
sources. As late as 800 CE, the Liber glossarum gives eight Etruscan month names.50
From the Byzantine Empire, the SUDA (10th century CE) has a number of relevant
items, among which an account of a supposedly Etruscan cosmogony plus doctrine of
the ages (τ 1195 Adler s.v. Τυρρηνία) stands out; the creation of the world in six steps,
each of which takes a thousand years, seems however to be based on Gen 1. Zonaras
(12th century CE) and Tzetzes (c. 1110–1180 CE) just repeat well-known information,
with the exception of a very full narrative about a social revolution in third century
BCE Volsinii (Zonar. 8.7). Finally, Eustathius (c. 1110–1195 CE) narrates a romantic love
story between an Etruscan piratess and an Athenian prisoner in his commentary on
Dionysius Periegetes 592.51
3 Some General Remarks

Let us now briefly review the source situation as a whole and reflect on how it affects
the nature of the information that has come down to us. Three points spring to mind
in particular: First, with very few exceptions, ancient literature shows the Etruscans
from the outside, so to speak. Second, most sources are comparatively late. Third,
information is usually provided in bits and pieces.
47 Domenici and Maderna 2007. For further bibliography on the brontoscopic calendar, the most
famous piece, see there 43 n. 62, 149 n. 101; cf. also MacIntosh Turfa 2006. On John and the Etruscans
in general, Briquel 1991, 489–554.
48 Maras and Michetti 2011.
49 Lanista and cassis could really be of Etruscan origin, veles is not (Briquel 1991, 355–59).
50 De Grummond 2006, 202.
51 The late antique scholia seem to have it the other way around (Athenian woman, Etruscan
prisoner), but their text is corrupt and the version of Eustathius appears more plausible.

(a) As to the first point, Etruscan literature itself, which certainly existed on reli-
gious (libri haruspicini, fulgurales, rituales etc.)52 and historical topics,53 is irretrieva-
bly lost. The same holds true for the Etruscological monographs by Sostratus, Verrius
Flaccus and Claudius as well as for treatises on Etruscan religion by insiders, partly
with Etruscan roots themselves, such as Aulus Caecina, Tarquitius Priscus, Nigidius
Figulus, C. Fonteius Capito and Cornelius Labeo.54 The extant sources, by contrast,
almost invariably present us with a view from the outside. This has a number of
important consequences.
Among the most fundamental of these may be counted a proneness to misunder-
standings arising from cultural differences, a tendency to see the Etruscans as one
uniform ethnos, passing over the numerous differences between the single city states
that existed, and the strangeness with which the people was invested. This sense of
strangeness in turn prompted ancient authors to highlight differences between Etrus-
can and Greco-Roman culture (emphasizing, for example, the comparable freedom
Etruscan women enjoyed)55 and at the same time to downplay foreign—especially
Greek—influences on the Etruscans. While connections between the latter and the
Greek world are sometimes reflected in myths and anecdotes, one could never guess
from such hints the massive amount of Greek culture they absorbed since the 8th
century BCE at the latest. The perception of Etruria as a strange world may also have
kindled the debate about the people’s origin, since both the immigration and the
autochthony thesis can be seen as answers to the question of why they were so differ-
ent from their neighbors: either because they had come from very far, or because they
had lived in the same place for so long and retained their original way of life, while
their environment was changing.
The label “view from the outside” must be specified, however, since it actu-
ally means quite different things with regard to the Greeks on the one hand and the
Romans on the other.56 To the former, the Etruscans really were a foreign, strange
people. Their view of them was predominantly negative. It was nourished mainly
by ethnographic stereotypes (e.g., the τρυφή motif) and by economic and military
antagonism (e.g., the piracy topos resulting to some degree from conflicts over naval
52 Cf., e.g., Barker and Rasmussen 1998, 92–93. However, most of these writings may have been quite
late (first century BCE?). For part of a liber tonitrualis, preserved in John the Lydian, see above, part 2.
53 Cf. the Tuscae historiae cited, through Varro, in Censorinus, De die natali 17.6, whose account was
organized according to the doctrine of the saecula; in general, Barker and Rasmussen 1998, 111–16. –
Whether the tragoediae Tuscae of a Volnius mentioned by Varro (Ling. 5.55) were tragedies in Etruscan,
as commonly supposed, or just about Etruscan subjects, we do not know.
54 Cf. Horsfall 1973, 79 n. 99 and Capdeville 1998, 395–97, with older literature; on Labeo, Briquel
1998.
55 Rallo 1989, esp. 26–33.
56 On differences between the Greek and the Roman perspective, see Musti 1989, 36–39.

46 Martin Korenjak
supremacy).57 This does not mean, though, that the Greeks were unable to see any-
thing positive in the Etruscans. They appreciated their highly developed material
culture, recognized their inventiveness in arts and crafts and held their metalwork,
clothing and haute cuisine in high regard.58
The perspective of the Romans was rather more complex. They not only had better
insight into Etruscan culture because the Etruscans were their direct neighbors, but,
more importantly, the Romans did not regard the Etruscans as just another foreign
people, but acknowledged the fact that the Etruscans shared a part of their own early
history, which led to a fundamentally ambivalent Roman attitude towards them. On
the one hand, the Romans took over elements of the generally hostile Greek image of
the people and displayed a certain Etruscophobia in connection with figures like Tar-
quinius Suberbus and events such as the wars that led to the subjugation of Etruria.59
On the other hand, they were keenly interested in Etruscan elements within their own
culture and quick to acknowledge their debt to the Etruscans in many realms. This
holds true, for example, for architecture, plastic art and painting, which were said
to have been exclusively Etruscan under the kings (Varro in Plin. HN 35.15), for politi-
cal symbols like the sella curulis, the fasces and the toga praetexta60 and for public
amusements such as gladiatorial fights and theatrical performances.61 Finally, the
Romans looked to the Etruscans as their masters in religious matters, on which more
will be said in a moment.
(b) To the spatial and cultural distance at which the sources stand from the Etrus-
can civilization, a chronological removal is added. In fact, the quantity of evidence
provided by ancient authors about the Etruscans stands in inverse proportion to the
political and cultural vitality of the latter. Close to nothing is transmitted from the
heyday of Etruscan power and prosperity in the Archaic period. Most relevant texts
come from Hellenism, during which the Etruscans were already losing their politi-
cal identity, and above all from the Roman Empire, by which time Etruscan culture
had disappeared as a whole. This, too, in a number of ways conditions the kind and
quality of information we get and the resulting image of the people.
To begin with, the belatedness of the sources means that most of our information
is second-hand at best, which multiplies the possibilities for misunderstandings and
distortions.
57 On Etruscan piracy, see Giuffrida Ientile 1983; later, e.g., Musti 1989, 28–34 (also on its complex
relationship to Etruscan thalassocracy); Firpo 1997, 108 n. 22 with further literature.
58 See, e.g., Mansuelli 1984. This could owe something to the fact that the putative ancestors of the
Etruscans, the Lydians, were also seen as paragons of refinement and savoir vivre, as is clear, for
example, from Sappho.
59 Cf., e.g., Bloch 1967. Bittarello 2009 one-sidedly emphasizes Roman hostility against the Etruscans
at the expense of interest and sympathy.
60 Cf., e.g., Musti 1989, 22 n. 8 with older literature; add the list in Flor. 1.5.6.
61 Briquel 1990.

Moreover, to an author writing during the decline or after the extinction of

the Etruscan civilization, the question of why it had ended so sadly occurred quite
naturally. It was often answered by means of the idea, widespread and influential
in ancient historical thinking, that prosperity leads to decadence and to the loss of
former greatness.62 Accordingly, we are presented with a two-stage model of Etruscan
character and history. In an early period, the Etruscans were brave warriors, power-
ful rulers of the whole of Italy63 and masters of the sea (even if their thalassocracy
could to some extent take the form of piracy).64 Later, they lost their political and
military preeminence because they were lured into decadence by their all-too-fertile
country and gave themselves to a luxurious lifestyle, sumptuous banquets and licen-
tious behavior.
Finally, the preponderance of late evidence goes some way to explain the promi-
nence given to Etruscan religion, especially divination: On the one side, while the
earlier Greek sources did not care about Etruscan religion at all, the later Roman
sources maintained that Rome’s most important cultural debt to Etruria concerned
precisely this aspect. On the other side, since divination and other elements of Etrus-
can religion were integrated into the religious system of the Romans, they outlasted
the vanishing of Etruscan culture as a whole for hundreds of years. As a result, the
Etruscans came to appear as a people for whom religion was all-important (e.g., Livy
5.1.6), and their country was seen either as a hoard of precious knowledge about the
divine or, by Christian writers, as a focal point of detestable superstition.65 Until the
very end of antiquity, the sources provide information about Etruscan methods of
finding out the will of the gods and recognizing the course of destiny: extispicy, cerau-
noscopy, interpretations of ostenta, the doctrine of the saecula and so on. “Etruscan”
and especially “Tages” even became labels to be attached to any kind of divinatory
literature, it seems, in the same way “Orpheus” could stand for cosmogonic poetry.66
This means that we possess quite detailed information on Etruscan divination, but
that it is often difficult to tell what is genuinely Etruscan, what has been modified or
even created by the very act of Roman adoption and what is later falsification.
(c) The last point depends to some degree on circumstances already mentioned
under the first two. As noted before, Etruscan literature itself as well as ancient
Etruscography is lost. Among the transmitted evidence, historiography (with strong
ethnographic interests) dominates during the Classical period and Hellenism, subject-
specific writers in the Late Republic and the first decades of the Principate; after that,
62 For a number of sources and secondary literature, see, e.g., Firpo 1997, 105 n. 10.
63 Musti 1989, 36.
64 Piracy could however also be seen as a symptom of decadence (Strabo 5.2.2). Its relationship to the
τρυφή topos to be mentioned presently is well explained in Musti 1989.
65 A number of relevant articles can be found in Briquel and Guittard 1999.
66 Cf. West 1984.

48 Martin Korenjak
the most important sources are, broadly speaking, compilations of various kinds. But
of the old historiographical sources, only the smaller part (Herodotus, Thucydides,
Dionysius, Livy) is preserved more or less in its original form. Most of the authors
in question (e.g., Theopompus, Timaeus, Fabius Pictor, Cato the Elder, Posidonius)
survive only in fragments cited by writers of the last two classes, that is, subject-spe-
cific writers, antiquarians, encyclopedists, lexicographers and so on. Because such
texts tend to break up their information into small units, that is the form in which it
has, in most cases, reached us.
For this reason, we are ill-informed about Etruscan history in the proper sense of
the word, because continuous historical narrative is precisely what can not be trans-
mitted in atomistic form. By contrast, antiquarian knowledge lends itself naturally to
such a kind of transmission, so we possess a quite substantial amount of information
about various aspects of Etruscan culture from divination and religion to social order,
economy, arts and crafts, food, lifestyle and language.
Furthermore, compilations are per se prone to copying each other. In this way,
colorful bits and pieces are cited again and again and acquire a popularity that is out
of proportion with their real importance. Over and over again we hear, for example,
about the invention of the war-trumpet,67 the cruel habit of tying the convicted to
rotting corpses, or the discovery and the revelations of Tages. In this way, cultural
history tends to dissolve into a collection of topoi.
It is presumably because of considerations such as these that the literary sources
as a whole are sometimes thought to be less significant for our knowledge of Etruscan
culture than the archeological and epigraphic material.68 Is this assumption correct?
It certainly is with regard to the inner life of the culture. There is no denying that the
monuments provide a fuller and more authentic picture in this respect. Only occa-
sionally is their testimony nuanced or fleshed out by literary evidence.69 When it
comes to the interaction between the Etruscans and their neighbors, however, the
literary evidence becomes indispensable. What little we know about Etruscan con-
tacts with Carthage, clashes with the Greeks of Southern Italy, influence on and final
subjugation by Rome, we know from literary sources in the first place.70 If, finally, the
way a people is seen by its contemporaries and the afterlife of its culture in later times
are also considered part of its history, in this respect the literary sources are nearly
all-important.
67 See Musti 1989, 22 n. 8 with sources and further literature.

68 See, e.g., Prayon 1996, 14.
69 For example, the story of the emigration of Demaratus from Corinth to Tarquinia illustrates and
specifies the archeological picture of intense Greek influence on Etruscan culture during the Archaic
period (Blakeway 1935, esp. 147–49; Ridgway and Ridgway 1994).
70 For the primacy of the literary sources regarding the topic of piracy, see Giuffrida Ientila 1983, 4.

It has rightly been stated that the archeological and the philological evidence
about the Etruscans as a rule do not correspond well,71 and given the above-men-
tioned perspective and chronological differences between them, it could hardly be
otherwise. However, this fact can be seen not only as a hindrance, but also as an
advantage: If the two kinds of sources seldom corroborate each other, they make good
for this shortcoming by mutually complementing each other, showing us the Etrus-
cans as they saw themselves and as they were seen by other ancient cultures respec-
tively. In this way, we get a more graphic picture of them than we could otherwise
hope for.
References
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Giuseppe M. Della Fina
4 History of Etruscology
Abstract: The history of the Etruscology must be told within the broader framework of the history
of archaeology and—even more broadly—of culture. It should become apparent that reviewing the
rediscovery of the Etruscan world may constitute a valuable opportunity for understanding the stages
of the recovery of Antiquity and of the role it played in medieval, more recent, and contemporary
culture. In reviewing the different stages of this event, we may further point out that over time, the
techniques of research were refined, and note that it will be possible to observe the gradual adoption
of methods of historical investigation. It is important, moreover, to indicate that “neutral” research,
as research on the Etruscans might seem to be, is in fact often freighted with ideological weight. In
sixteenth-century Tuscany, the Etruscans were seen as the precedent and the justification of Cosimo
I de’ Medici’s policies, which strove to broaden the Grand Duchy’s sphere of influence. At other times
and in different circumstances, the federal structure of their state was instead put in evidence, as in
the decades preceding the Unification of Italy, or it was desired to credit an anti-imperialist signifi-
cance to the confrontation between Etruscans and Rome.
Keywords: Etruscomania, etruscheria, etruscologia, history of research, history of studies
Introduction
To prevent this review of the field from becoming a sterile catalogue of more or less
famous personages and more or less useful works, the story must be told within the
broader framework of the history of archaeology and—even more broadly—of culture.
It should become apparent that reviewing the rediscovery of the Etruscan world
may constitute a valuable opportunity for understanding the stages of the recovery
of Antiquity and of the role it played in medieval, more recent, and contemporary
culture.
In reviewing the different stages of this event, we may further point out that over
time, the techniques of research were refined, and note that it will be possible to
observe the gradual adoption of methods of historical investigation.
It is important, moreover, to indicate that “neutral” research, as research on the
Etruscans might seem to be, is in fact often freighted with ideological weight. In six-
teenth-century Tuscany, the Etruscans were seen as the precedent and the justification
of Cosimo I de’ Medici’s policies, which strove to broaden the Grand Duchy’s sphere
of influence. At other times and in different circumstances, the federal structure of
their state was instead put in evidence, as in the decades preceding the Unification of
Italy, or it was desired to credit an anti-imperialist significance to the confrontation
between Etruscans and Rome.
54 Giuseppe M. Della Fina
1 Initial research
Traditionally, the beginning of research on the Etruscans is taken to coincide with
the activity of the Dominican monk Annio da Viterbo (1432?–1502).1 Born in Viterbo,
Annio studied in Florence and graduated in theology, then moved to Genoa where he
taught grammar and began to work in astrology, successfully composing predictions
and horoscopes for a variety of influential people of his time. He returned to Viterbo,
where he took an interest in local history, especially Etruscan antiquity, and pub-
lished the successful Antiquitatum variarum volumina XVII (1498). Using sources both
legitimate and not, which he edited himself, the Dominican monk suggested at first
that the Etruscans were the direct descendants of Osiris and, in turn, of Noah, known
in Italy as Janus by the Latins and as Vertumnus by the Etruscans. His theories, not-
withstanding the swift acknowledgement of the illegitimacy of some of the sources he
used, enjoyed wide and long-lasting regard because they seemed to succeed in con-
necting the evidence of the Old Testament with that of the classical sources that were
in the process of rediscovery, thus melding two distinct cultural traditions.
Similar theoretical positions were maintained by another well-known Viterban,
Cardinal Egidio da Viterbo (1469–1532), who in his Historia XX saeculorum asserted
that the Etruscans were natives of Chaldaea and the civilizers of Italy, and that their
history developed in parallel with that of Israel. The Etruscan lucumoni would corre-
spond to the Patriarchs of Israel.2
In Tuscany, early and special attention to the Etruscans was due to the historian
Giovanni Villani (ca. 1280–1348), who in his Cronica records with admiration the
Etruscan past and compares it with the quite different present that thrived on the
same ground, recommending the Etruscan governing ability as a political model for
the Florentine ruling classes of the time.3
The same enterprise, but more explicitly, was maintained by Coluccio Salutati,
who in a letter dated July 19, 1388, suggested looking to the Etruscans in progressing
toward civil and moral renewal. Leonardo Bruni—Salutati’s pupil—continued along
the same lines by praising the Etruscans and their republican system, as opposed to
the imperial system of Rome, in his Historiarum Florentini populi libri XII.4
In Tuscany, attention was paid—however prematurely—to individual objects that
more or less accidentally came to light. Between 1491 and 1495, Francesco di Giorgio
completed a drawing of a cinerary urn found in Chiusi; in 1507, Leonardo da Vinci drew
the plan and elevation of a monumental hypogeum found at Castellina in Chianti. In
the mid sixteenth century, Vasari recalled another monumental hypogeum discov-
1 Bonucci Caporali 1981; Pallottino 1984a, 10; Cristofani 1992, 4–5; Camporeale 2011, 18–19.
2 Camporeale 2011, 18–19.
3 Cipriani 1980; Camporeale 2011, 16.

4 History of Etruscology 55
ered at Chiusi that was mistakenly identified as Porsenna’s. Antonio da Sangallo the
Younger had previously drawn a variety of Etruscan antiquities, and offered a recon-
struction of the tomb of the famous king from Chiusi on the basis of the description
given by Varro and transmitted by Pliny.5
The architecture of the Etruscans had already been appreciated by Leon Battista
Alberti and by Filarete (Antonio di Pietro Averlino), while positive judgment of Etrus-
can art was passed by Giorgio Vasari, who, in the famous Chimera of Arezzo, found in
1553, recognized “an Etruscan style” as opposed to a Greek style. Alberti chose to refer
to the plan of the Etruscan temple—known from the description given by Vitruvius—
in his project for the church of Saint Andrew in Mantua.6
Still in Tuscany, already during the fifteenth century a passion had developed
among the Medici family for collecting Etruscan finds, or taking them. Donatello was
the first curator of the hoard gathered by Cosimo the Elder. We also know of some
items given to Lorenzo the Magnificent, including a statue with inscriptions from
Pistoia, an inscribed terra-cotta urn from Siena, vases from Arezzo, and a ceramic
vase from Greece.7
The second son of Lorenzo the Magnificent, who became pope (1513–1521) under
the name of Leo X, commissioned Baldassarre Peruzzi to depict events from Etrus-
can and Roman history in a room of the Campidoglio.8 In this new cultural climate,
the accent shifted (and would do so increasingly in the future) from the republican
organization of the Etruscan city-states, which had been extolled by Coluccio Salutati
and Leonardo Bruni, to the figure of the monarch Porsenna.9
Under grand duke Cosimo I (1519–1574), there began to be attributed to the Etrus-
cans an ever-increasing ideological value. He proclaimed himself Magnus Dux Etru-
riae and in his court propaganda, his politico-military behavior came to find prec-
edent and—to some extent—motivation in the Etruscan past. This interest drove the
increase in acquisitions of antiquities and added to the Medician collection three
especially prestigious works discovered between 1541 and 1566—the Minerva, the
Chimera, and the Arringatore (the Orator).10 The grand duke also established the
Accademia Fiorentina, which was joined by most of the intellectuals who gravitated
to the court. Their work often returned to the theme of the Etruscans’ supremacy,
successfully reviving, in the debate about the language, the thesis that was initially
elaborated in pontifical circles. In the Gello, P. F. Giambullari stated that the Etruscan
5 Cristofani 1985, 6; Camporeale 2011, 20–21.

6 Cristofani 1985, 6–7; Cristofani 1992, 4; Borsi 1985, 36–54.
7 Cristofani 1985, 7.
8 Cipriani 1980; Cristofani 1992, 4; Camporeale 2011, 21.
10 Cristofani 1985, 8; Camporeale 2011, 21–22.

Fig. 4.1: Thomas Dempster, De Etruria regali, Florentiae 1723 (Photo Della Fina)

language underlay the Tuscan language and that it could not be understood without
a thorough grounding in Hebrew and Chaldaean.11
In 1551, the first book devoted to the Etruscans was published—significantly, it is
dedicated to Cosimo I—by Guillaume Postel: De Etruriae regionis quae prima habitata
est originibus, institutis, religione et moribus et in primis de aurei saeculi doctrina et
vita praestantissima quae divinationis sacrae usu posita est.12
The seventeenth century could have opened with the appearance of another
monograph dedicated to the Etruscans, the monumental De Etruria regali, by Thomas
Dempster, a Scottish teacher at the athenaeum in Pisa. De Etruria regali had been
written between 1616 and 1619, but remained unpublished for another century. Demp-
ster used the ancient and Renaissance sources that were available to him and any
antiquities that could be recognized as Etruscan. The work includes encomia toward
the ruling house of the Medici, for whom he arrived at the hypothesis of Etruscan
origin, but Dempster’s work did not see the light of day until a century later (Fig. 4.1).13
During the seventeenth century, major new collections of antiquities were
founded that featured Etruscan items, albeit on a small scale compared to Greco-
Roman items. One such example is the assemblage gathered in Rome by the German
Jesuit Athanasius Kircher. The Volterran aristocrat Curzio Inghirami was certainly
a unique figure. Inghirami forged Etruscan and Roman inscriptions and published
them in a volume—Ethruscarum antiquitatum fragmenta—printed in Frankfurt in 1637
to promote his own native city. The scholar Leone Allacci promptly identified them as
fakes, but Inghirami did not recant and continued to defend his actions.14
Interest in the Etruscan world continued—albeit in a minor way—in the Papal
States as well, where, understandably, more attention was paid to Rome’s imperial
past. In 1669 we hear of research carried out at Veii on behalf of cardinal Flavio Chigi.
2 The eighteenth century: Etruscheria

The lukewarm interest in the Etruscan world characteristic of the 1600s changed
profoundly in the next century. Thomas Dempster’s unpublished manuscript was
acquired by the English bibliophile Thomas Coke, who entrusted its publication and
the necessary revisions to the antiquarian Filippo Buonarroti. The work appeared in
1723–1724 and set off a period of considerable interest in the Etruscans, which has
received the name Etruscomania (It. etruscheria). Scipione Maffei, one of its most
11 Cristofani 1992, 6–7; Camporeale 2011, 21.

12 Postel 1986; Cristofani 1992, 7–8; Camporeale 2011, 21–22.
13 Cristofani 1983, 15–43; 1992, 9–10; Camporeale 2011, 25.

influential practitioners, observed that Dempster’s volume had the principal merit of
stimulating the research of many scholars.15
During this cultural period, the most amazing and varied achievements were
attributed to the Etruscans, including feminine beauty. The principal actors of the
time were above all intellectuals and scholars active in communities with a signifi-
cant Etruscan past. To glorify the Etruscans was for them a way of singing the praises
of their own native or adopted cities.
In this intellectual milieu, the figure of Monsignor Mario Guarnacci (1701–1785)
stands out. Born in Volterra, Guarnacci studied in Florence and Pisa, and then moved to
Rome, where he undertook a successful ecclesiastical career that was interrupted sud-
denly in 1757. Returning to the city of his birth, he focused his studies on the Etruscans.
His most important work was Origini Italiche (1767), in which he maintained the chrono-
logical priority of the Pelasgians-Etruscans over the other peoples of Italy and Greece.16
The other leaders of the debate were the greatest antiquarians of the age, includ-
ing the Scipione Maffei, Anton Francesco Gori, and Giovan Battista Passeri. Gori, a
Florentine, is responsible for a series of editorial projects of great promise, such as the
Inscriptiones Graecae et Latinae in Etruriae urbibus extantes, the Museum Etruscum,
and the Museum Florentinum (Fig. 4.2).
Maffei, from Verona, was the author of, among other things, Etruria illustrata,
which remained unpublished, and of Della nazione etrusca e degli Itali primitivi,
which was published in 1739.17
Around 1730, a dispute between Maffei and Gori arose about the Etruscan alpha-
bet, which degenerated into a real quarrel. In competition, the two of them set out
on tours through the Etruscan region to gather information and materials. Gori
reached Arezzo, Cortona, Perugia, Chiusi, Montepulciano, Siena, Poggibonsi, Pogni,
Panzano, and San Casciano Val di Pesa. Maffei, on the other hand, got to Rome, Civita
Castellana, Tarquinia (at the time called Corneto), Bolsena, Chiusi, Montepulciano,
Volterra, Siena, Monteriggioni, and Florence.18
Philo-Etruscan attitudes are also found in the theoretical writings of Giovan Bat-
tista Piranesi, and in Girolamo Tiraboschi’s wide-ranging work Storia della lettera-
tura italiana (1772). The former, in Ragionamento apologetico in difesa dell’architettura
egizia e toscana (1769), focuses on the debased artistic output of Etruria, which he
believed to have profoundly influenced that of Rome. Tiraboschi proposed that Italian
literature could have sprung from the Etruscan, though he did not gloss over the prob-
lems.19
15 Cristofani 1983, 15–43; 1992, 12–14.

16 Cristofani 1983, 89–103; 1992, 15–18; Atti 2003.
17 Cristofani 1983, 36–43, 89–94; 1992, 18–22.
18 Cristofani 1983, 53–64; Camporeale 2011, 25–26.
19 Cristofani 1983, 103–19; 1985, 10; 1992, 16–17.

The first Italian reformers were also fascinated by the Etruscans, and they tended
to accentuate their republican-style institutional arrangements and the federal struc-
ture of their state. Among these we may mention the jurist Giovanni Maria Lampredi
Fig. 4.2: Anton Francesco Gori, Museum Etruscum, Florentiae 1737 (Photo Della Fina)

Fig. 4.3: Coat of arms of the Accademia Etrusca in Cortona

(Photo Della Fina)
(Saggio sopra la filosofia degli antichi Etruschi, 1756) and Carlo Denina (Rivoluzioni
d’Italia, 1769). The topic of the Etruscans also came up in the nascent journalism of
the day, as is suggested by the experience of the weekly Novelle Letterarie published
in Florence from 1740 on the initiative of Giovanni Lami.20
Interest in the Etruscan world was not limited to the Italian antiquarian and cul-
tural sphere. Among the foreign scholars, at least Anne-Claude-Philippe de Caylus
and Johann Joachim Winckelmann must be remembered. In his Geschichte der Kunst
des Alterthums (1764), the latter attempted the first critical analysis of Etruscan art,
proposing a classification and subdivision into three styles. The first and oldest was
quite “rigid” and similar to the Egyptian; the second was more developed; and the
20 Cristofani 1983, 123–29.

third was characterized by slavish imitation of Greek art. He ended with a negative
evaluation of Etruscan artistic output, while continuing to recognize its chronologi-
cal primacy, whose limitations he identified by attributing them to the character and
habits of thought of the Etruscans: “It seems that they were more inclined to melan-
choly and sadness than the Greeks … and it may be observed that a man endowed
with such a temperament is undoubtedly suited to the deepest study, but it leads to
profound sensations; for this reason, the sort of mild emotion is not generated in him
that renders the spirit perfectly sensible to the beautiful.”21
During the eighteenth century, an important role was played by the Accademia
Etrusca in Cortona, which was founded in 1726 by the brothers Marcello and Ridolfino
Venuti (Fig. 4.3), and the Società Colombaria in Florence, established in 1735.22
3 Nineteenth century: Etruscology

A severe verdict on the results of eighteenth-century scholarship was handed down
by Luigi Lanzi (1732–1810), who is considered—not without reason—the father of sci-
entific Etruscology (Fig. 4.4). The author of Saggio di lingua etrusca e di altre antiche
d’Italia (1789) was responsible for the almost completely definitive decipherment
of the Etruscan alphabet and an initial sketch of phonetics and grammar. His judg-
ment of Etruscan art—in comparison with that authoritatively expressed by Winckel-
mann—was less reductive but did recognize the influence of the Greek experience.23
Meanwhile, a different periodization of Etruscan art into five phases was proposed by
Christian Gottlob Heyne (1729–1812).24
The nineteenth century opened with the publication of a significant volume,
L’Italia avanti il dominio dei Romani (1810) by Giuseppe Micali, whose innovativeness
was not understood at the time in antiquarian circles because of its primarily histori-
cal and economic approach. Its underestimation must also have influenced the intel-
lectual development of the author, who was only loosely tied to the Italian scholarly
environment. The picture of the nineteenth-century scholar was fully reevaluated
in the 1970s and 1980s by Massimo Pallottino, who recognized Micali’s role as the
“definitive start” of Pre-Roman Italian historiography comparable to that of William
Mitford for Greek historiography and Barthold Georg Niebuhr for Roman.25
Another important book was published in 1828, Die Etrusker by Karl Otfried
Müller, which is considered the first handbook of Etruscology; it contains yet another
21 Cristofani 1983, 115–19, 142–56, 161–66; 1985, 10–11; 1992, 18; Camporeale 2011, 28.
22 Cristofani 1983, 167–81; 1985, 9–14; 1992, 22–26; Paci 2008; Camporeale 2011, 28–29.
23 Cristofani 1983, 167–81; 1985, 9–14; 1992, 22–26; Paci 2008; Camporeale 2011, 28–29.
24 Cristofani 1983, 161–66; 1985, 11–12; Camporeale 2011, 28.
25 Pallottino 1984b, 15–19; Cristofani 1992, 26–28; Camporeale 2011, 29; Desideri 2011.

Fig. 4.4: Portrait of Luigi Lanzi (1732–1810). Oil painting,

circa 1800 (Photo Della Fina)
critical judgment (or prejudgment) on the artistic output: “The art of Etruria seems
like an exotic plant.”26
Archaeological investigation on the ground carried out during the nineteenth
century yielded considerable results. Entire necropolises were investigated (and
often plundered), numerous sacred precincts were brought to light, and some major
cities were located. Among the most important undertakings was the discovery of the
necropolis of Vulci, accomplished by the prince-archaeologist Luciano Bonaparte,
brother of Napoleon. His successful excavations, carried out with innovative methods
for the time, allowed him to amass a noteworthy collection, which was soon dispersed.
He was also a late adherent to “Philo-Italic” theories. For example, he continued to
maintain the Etruscan origin of the Greek vases he discovered—against the opinions

of Luigi Lanzi and Eduard Gerhard—and the supremacy of Etruscan art. These opin-
ions were probably also due to the desire to curry favor with pontifical authority and,
more generally, toward the nascent “public opinion” of the Italian peninsula, hoping
to build a political future for his own family in Italy.27 This is not to say that the prince
considered the Philo-Italic positions outmoded, and that he favored them solely to
exploit them, but that he realized they concealed ideal and political values and here
recognized the ideological bases for the more or less imminent redemption of Italy.28
Successful campaigns of excavation also concerned other sites in southern Etruria.
At Cerveteri, in 1834, fifty-three chamber tombs were discovered, including the tombs
of the Shields and Chairs and the tomb of the Painted Animals. A few years later, the
archpriest Alessandro Regolini and General Vincenzo Galassi found the famous tomb
that bears their names. At Tarquinia, many of the painted tombs we know today were
discovered—among them the tomb of the Baron, found by August Kestner in 1827, and
the tombs of the Triclinium, the Querciola, and the Typhon, brought to light respec-
tively in 1830, 1831, and 1832.29
In central and northern Etruria, the most thoroughly investigated city was Chiusi,
where the antiquities market was especially rapacious. Over several decades, traf-
ficking in archaeological objects in the area became an economic activity of primary
importance, second only to agriculture.30 At Perugia, in 1840, the Hypogeum of the
Volumni was discovered and promptly published by Giovanni Battista Vermiglioli.31
The first half of the century also saw the dynamism of singular archeologist-entre-
preneurs like Alessandro François, who has given his name to a very famous painted
tomb in Vulci, and the members of the Campanari family. Originally from Tuscania,
they were among the promoters of a show organized in London in January of 1837,
which enjoyed great success in England.32
Special importance accrues to the 1829 founding of the Instituto di Cor-
rispondenza Archeologica in Rome, which, through a compact network of corre-
sponding members, succeeded in documenting the finds that continued to be made,
preserving their memory. The Instituto also maintained solid relationships with the
contemporary flourishing trade of antiquities.
The opening decades of the nineteenth century also saw the founding of several
museums devoted to Etruscan antiquity, among them the Museo Gregoriano Etrusco
in the Vatican, which opened in 1837.33
27 Della Fina 2004; 2005.

28 Della Fina 2005.
29 Mandolesi and Naso 1999; Colonna 2005.
30 Cristofani 1975, 11–35; Paolucci 2005.
31 Cenciaioli 2011.
32 Cristofani 2001; Colonna 2005.
33 Cherici 2011; Sannibale 2011.

Fig. 4.5: View of the Campanari Garden, Tuscania (after Dennis 1848)
The fevered activity of these years flowed together in the volume The Cities and
Cemeteries of Etruria by George Dennis (first edition 1848), which was destined for
remarkable and long-lasting success. Born in London in 1814, Dennis undertook a dip-
lomatic career, which culminated in postings as consul in Crete, Sicily, and Smyrna,
but continued to cultivate his interest in literature and archaeology. They were com-
bined in his book on the Etruscans, which was updated and reprinted several times.34
The second half of the nineteenth century was characterized by a further increase
in the documentary base. The excavations carried out in the middle of that period
were already realized to be important, but others were added, including Orvieto
(the Etruscan Velzna) with the 1863 discovery in Settecamini of two painted tombs,
which preserve the name of the discoverer Domenico Golini, and the excavation of the
necropolises of Crocifisso del Tufo and of Cannicella.35
In the first decades of Italian Unification, there was renewed attention to archae-
ological museums centered on Etruscan themes. In 1870, one was opened in Flor-
ence, followed by one in Bologna (1881) and the Villa Giulia in Rome (1889). In these
decades, primarily on the initiative of German scholars, corpora were still dedicated
to Etruscan mirrors (the project had begun in 1839), cinerary urns, and inscrip-
34 Haynes 1992; Cristofani 2001, 1290–92; Rhodes 1973.

35 Della Fina 2003; 2011.

tions. Other works of synthesis also appeared, such as Jules Martha’s handbook L’art
étrusque (1889), where the negative evaluation of Etruscan art does not appear to
have been modified at all.36
4 The twentieth century

The 1916 discovery of the Apollo of Veio, in a vastly different cultural climate, contrib-
uted to altering the verdict on Etruscan art. The “limitations” designated by Winck-
elmann and those who followed him became “values” in the interpretations of the
artistic avant-garde critics of the 1920s and 1930s, who were inclined to transcend
naturalistic and figurative art.37
In 1928, the first Congresso Internazionale Etrusco was organized (preceded in
1926 by the first Convegno Nazionale Etrusco), and in 1932 the Istituto di Studi Etruschi
e Italici was officially recognized, which has played a central role in the development
of Etruscological research ever since.
In the first half of the twentieth century, excavations in the necropolises contin-
ued (Antonio Minto’s discoveries at Populonia are especially noteworthy), and useful
collections—at least Arvid Andrén’s Architectural Terracottas from Etrusco-Italic
temples (1939–1940) must be mentioned—and a variety of monographs on individual
sites were published. Among these we may highlight those dedicated to Chiusi by
Ranuccio Bianchi Bandinelli (1925), to Tarquinia by Massimo Pallottino (1937), and to
Populonia by Antonio Minto (1943).
The central figure of twentieth-century Etruscology is M. Pallottino (1909–1995),
to whom is owed the ascent of the study of the Etruscans and the other peoples of
ancient Italy to the dignity of an independent scientific discipline (Fig. 7.1.). Among
the results of his work is the solution he proposed to the problem of Etruscan origins—
which he began by examining Herodotus—arrived at by shifting attention from the
question of origin to the question of the formation of the people. Among his other
major contributions, he enhanced our comprehension of the Etruscan language and
of the historical development of the Etruscans, who he saw fully participating in the
cultural sphere of the Italian peninsula of the first millennium BCE. Furthermore, Pal-
lottino was the organizer and director of successful excavations, including of the Pyrgi
sanctuary in the environs of Caere (Cerveteri), which yielded the renowned bilingual
gold tablets with inscriptions in Etruscan and Phoenician.38
36 Cristofani 1985, 15–17.

37 Camporeale 2011, 32–34.
38 Michetti 2007.

The second half of the twentieth century was characterized by the work of Pallot-
tino and his school. Excavations were begun that focused primarily on dwellings and
commercial structures, breaking with the tradition that—as we have seen—favored
the necropolises. Close to the excavation of the Pyrgi sanctuary should be mentioned
the investigation of the residential quarters of the center of Acquarossa near Viterbo,
advanced by the Sweedish Institute of Classical Studies in Rome, and of Murlo (near
Siena), directed by American archaeologists.39
In more recent years, scientific investigations have concerned the urban areas
of several major poleis: Cerveteri, under the direction of Mauro Cristofani (who was
also responsible for the excavation of several buildings in the industrial quarter of
Populonia); Tarquinia, explored by Maria Bonghi Jovino; and Veii. Excavations have
not been lacking in commercial areas such as quarters dedicated to craftsmen, ports,
and factories. On this subject, we may mention the excavation, carried out by Giovan-
nangelo Camporeale, of the installation near the lake of Accesa that is closely linked
with mining.
References
Atti 2003. Mario Guarnacci (1701–1785). Un erudito toscano alla scoperta degli Etruschi, Atti del
Convegno, Volterra, 14–15.06.2002. Rassegna Volterrana 89: 7–37.
Barocchi, P., and D. Gallo ed. 1985. L’Accademia Etrusca, exhibition catalogue. Milan: Electa.
Bonucci Caporali, G. ed. 1981. Annio da Viterbo. Documenti e ricerche. Rome: CNR.
Borsi, F. 1985 ed. Fortuna degli Etruschi, exhibition catalogue. Milan: Electa.
Camporeale, G. 2011. Gli Etruschi. Storia e civiltà. 3rd ed. Turin: UTET.
Cenciaioli, L. ed. 2011. L’ipogeo dei Volumni. 170 anni dalla scoperta, Atti del convegno di studi,
Perugia, 10–11.06.2010. Perugia: Fabrizio Fabbri.
Cherici, A. 2011. “‘Mirari vos’: la politica museale di Gregorio XVI tra storia e antistoria.”
AnnMuseoFaina 18: 51–67.
Cipriani, G. 1980. Il mito etrusco nel Rinascimento fiorentino. Florence: Olschki.
Colonna, G. 2005. “Archeologia dell’età romantica in Etruria. I Campanari di Toscanella e la tomba
dei Vipinana.” In G. Colonna, Italia ante Romanum Imperium. Scritti di antichità etrusche,
italiche e romane, 4, 2397–423. Pisa, Rome: IEPI.
Cristofani, M. 1975. Statue-cinerario chiusine di età classica. Rome: Giorgio Bretschneider.
—. 1983. La scoperta degli Etruschi. Archeologia e antiquaria nel ’700. Rome: CNR.
—. 1985. L’arte degli Etruschi. Produzione e consumo. 2nd ed. Turin: Einaudi.
—. 1992. La scoperta degli Etruschi. Rome: Istituto della Enciclopedia Treccani.
—. 2001. “Micali, l’Etruria e gli Inglesi.” In M. Cristofani, Scripta Selecta. Trenta anni di studi
archeologici sull’Italia preromana, 3, 1286–90. Pisa, Rome: IEPI.
Della Fina, G. M. 2003. “La storia degli studi.” In Storia di Orvieto. Vol. 1. Antichità, edited by
G. M. Della Fina, 25–36. Perugia: Quattroemme.
39 Camporeale 2011, 33–34.

—. ed. 2004. Citazioni archeologiche. Luciano Bonaparte archeologo, exhibition catalogue. Rome:
Quasar.
—. 2005. “Luciano Bonaparte archeologo: nuove prospettive.” In Dinamiche di sviluppo delle città
nell’Etruria meridionale. Veio, Caere, Tarquinia, Vulci, Atti del XXIII Convegno di Studi Etruschi
ed Italici, Roma, Veio, Cerveteri, Pyrgi,Tarquinia, Tuscania, Vulci, Viterbo, 1–6.10.2001, 633–35.
Pisa, Rome: Istituti Editoriali e Poligrafici Internazionali.
—. 2011. “La nuova Italia e i beni archeologici. Il caso della scoperta delle tombe Golini I e II.”
Desideri, P. 2011. “Gli Etruschi di Giuseppe Micali fra antiquaria e ideologia politica.”
Haynes, S. 1992. “Etruria britannica.” In Gli Etruschi e l’Europa, exhibition catalogue, 310–19. Milan:
Fabbri.
Mandolesi, A., and A. Naso, eds. 1999. Ricerche archeologiche in Etruria meridionale nel XIX secolo.
Florence: All’Insegna del Giglio.
Michetti, L. M., ed. 2007. Massimo Pallottino a dieci anni dalla scomparsa, Atti dell’incontro di
studi, Rome, 10–11.11.2005. Rome: Quasar.
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Macerata: CEUM.
Pallottino, M. 1984a. Etruscologia. Milan: Hoepli.
—. 1984b. Storia della prima Italia. Milan: Rusconi.
Paolucci, G. 2005. Documenti e memorie sulle antichità e il Museo di Chiusi. Pisa, Rome: IEPI.
Postel, G. 1986. De Etruriae regionis originibus institutis religione et moribus. Rome: CNR.
Rhodes, D. E. 1973. Dennis of Etruria. The Life of George Dennis. London: Woolf.
Sannibale, M. 2011. “Cercare gli Etruschi, trovare gli Italiani. Il Museo Gregoriano Etrusco
dall’archeologia romantica a Porta Pia.” AnnMuseoFaina 18: 473–524.

Maurizio Harari
5 Etruscan Art or Art of the Etruscans?
Abstract: It is agreed that Etruscan art may be associated with the whole range of figural pieces pro-
duced in the historic region usually referred to as Etruria, and with a period extending from the Early
Iron Age to the Middle Hellenistic (ninth–second centuries BCE). This definition, though seemingly
obvious, presents us with a historical and ethnic context which is both challenging and compelling.
As Greek art belongs to the Greeks and is an expression of what it is considered Greek, so must
Etruscan art belong to the Etruscans and reveal specific elements of their cultural identity. We may
question, however, whether it is really justified to claim to be able to identify a uniform and consist-
ent Greek identity among the fragmented Greek city-states (for as long as they maintained their inde-
pendence and autonomy) or, later, within the variegated context of the Mediterranean koine of the
Hellenistic era. As a consequence, and much more seriously, we must face the problem of recognizing
a single Etruscan identity reflected by manifestations of art, which, although local, developed under
the influence of concepts that emerged largely from ethnically Greek—and not Etruscan—contexts. We
may say, then, that the paradigm for Etruscan art was in fact derived from a different source, namely
Greek art (though of questionable homogeneity), and that this source paradoxically became the deter-
mining criterion of an Etruscan identity, always defined in the negative, ie. as non-Greek.
We mean that, if Etruscan art may be said to rely on Greek sources, its alleged original elements
must be sought on those occasions when this dependence on the Greeks appears to have become
somewhat looser or to have lessened.
Keywords: antiquity, renaissance, iconology, Etruscan art’s history
Introduction
It is agreed that Etruscan art may be associated with the whole range of figural pieces
produced in the historic region usually referred to as Etruria, and with a period
extending from the Early Iron Age to the Middle Hellenistic (ninth–second centuries
BCE). This definition, though seemingly obvious, presents us with a historical and
ethnic context which is both challenging and compelling.
As Greek art belongs to the Greeks and is an expression of what it is considered
Greek, so must Etruscan art belong to the Etruscans and reveal specific elements of
their cultural identity. We may question, however, whether it is really justified to claim
to be able to identify a uniform and consistent Greek identity among the fragmented
Greek city-states (for as long as they maintained their independence and autonomy)
or, later, within the variegated context of the Mediterranean koine of the Hellenistic
era. As a consequence, and much more seriously, we must face the problem of recog-
nizing a single Etruscan identity reflected by manifestations of art, which, although
local, developed under the influence of concepts that emerged largely from ethnically
Greek—and not Etruscan—contexts. We may say, then, that the paradigm for Etruscan
art was in fact derived from a different source, namely Greek art (though of question-
70 Maurizio Harari
able homogeneity), and that this source paradoxically became the determining crite-
rion of an Etruscan identity, always defined in the negative, ie. as non-Greek.
We mean that, if Etruscan art may be said to rely on Greek sources, its alleged
original elements must be sought on those occasions when this dependence on the
Greeks appears to have become somewhat looser or to have lessened.
1 In antiquity
This critical dilemma is evident in the reflections of at least two ancient writers who,
united by an idea of ethnicity which is far less problematic than our own, identified
Etruscan art as possessing the features of an exemplary non-Greek artistic language.
Strabo (17.1.28) compared the bas-reliefs which adorn the “wings” of Egyptian
temples with those of archaic Greek and Etruscan art, a suggestion that was to enjoy
an extremely long life. Some seventeen centuries later, Johann Winckelmann and
Christian Heyne likewise identified a primitive and “Egyptianizing” phase of Etrus-
can art.1
According to the ancients, just what this so-called “Egyptian” Etruscan art was is
unclear, but a well-known passage in Quintilian (Inst. 12.10.7–9) may be of assistance.
It narrates a sort of evolutionary sequence of Greek bronze sculpture, and places the
works of Callon and Hegesias next to Etruscan pieces (Tuscanicis proxima) on the
basis of a chronological-stylistic parameter related to the hardness of their modeling
or shape. The rigidity of modeling to which Quintilian refers would have gradually
softened, from the most archaic sculptures (and therefore the more “Tuscan”) in the
works of the masters of Aegina, up to the time of Calamis and Myron. The use of this
hard approach seems to have lessened with the diligentia and the decor (of Polycli-
tus), and to have been finally abandoned in the works of Lysippus and Praxiteles.
Therefore, the ideal of softness in sculpture should be assumed to be the same as nat-
uralness—that is, naturalism (Lysippus’s veritas); and the ideal of hardness, which
seemed to be so characteristically Etruscan (or Egyptian), to be nothing but a lack of
naturalism. When one finds in the same essay (12.10.1) the possible suggestion of a
comparison that claimed some similarity between Tuscan sculpture and Asian elo-
quence, and so between Greek sculpture and Attic eloquence (ut Graecis Tuscanicae
statuae, ut Asianus eloquens Attico), one would understand that the lack of natural-
ism of Etruscan art was caused not only by its morphological delay, but also by an
overload of exaggerated, unnatural schemata and postures.
We have stressed these passages of ancient literature because they contain more
than one of the slogans that extend through all of the (modern) history of Etruscan art
1 On this point see Cristofani 1978, 11–12; 1983, 165. Also Harari 2012a, 21, 26–27.

5 Etruscan Art or Art of the Etruscans? 71
criticism: the idea of the persistently exotic and archaic connotations and an almost
rhetorical emphasis on an artistic language that seemed to belong more to the origi-
nal figural world of the eastern Mediterranean than to the later spread of the great
Greek naturalism.
2 In modernity
2.1 From Renaissance to Enlightenment
As early as the sixteenth century, the penetrating stylistic comments made by Giorgio
Vasari on the impressive bronze known as the Chimaera (unearthed in November 1553
during work on the fortifications of Arezzo)2 highlighted the contradictory “Etruscan
manner” of this piece. The stylistic character of Etruscan sculpture—indicated by the
“clumsiness” of the Chimaera’s mane—was recognized on the basis of a somewhat
vague notion of Greek art, which Vasari was able to gather from his knowledge of
Roman sculpture.
We must, therefore, seek the critical fate of Etruscan art—although considered to
be indigenous, Tuscan and thus Italian—between the poles of Egypt and Greece. In
the fundamental theoretical debates of the eighteenth century, the studies of Winckel-
mann and Heyne and the work of the Count of Caylus and the Abbot Luigi Lanzi began
to understand the formative history of the Etruscan artistic language in terms of its
participation in a process of Hellenization, whereby it was gradually freed from those
primitive elements—whether Egyptian or Pelasgian or Egyptian and Pelasgian—from
which it had in part originated.3 It is important to note that by this understanding, it is
simply not possible to identify any unmistakably Etruscan elements within the works
of the more advanced—and so, more fully Hellenized—stages. As a consequence, such
ethnic, non-Greek elements were sought in intermediate stylistic periods. Winckel-
mann’s so-called “second style” refers to the “strained and violent” figures—colored,
we might say, by an Asian eloquence—that were taken as an indication of a collective
psychology characterized by a sense of jealously guarded freedom and violent mel-
ancholy, personality traits which can be applied to the Tuscan people of the Middle
Ages and beyond.4
The recognizably “Etruscan” elements of Etruscan art were therefore based on
the extent to which they differed from Greek art. The latter abounds in attractive and
2 Most recently, Maggiani 2009; Iozzo et al. 2009. On Vasari’s opinion see Pallottino 1977; Cristofani
1978, 6–8; Harari 2012a, 22–24.
3 Cristofani 1978, 10–14; Cristofani 1983, 142–81; also Harari 2012a, 26–28.
4 Harari 1988.

72 Maurizio Harari
authoritative models, for just this reason having been called “classical;” but a truly
“classical” supreme model is eminently inimitable. In such a perspective, the una-
voidable failure of Etruscan art had to be ascribed to a hereditary predisposition and
temperament. Here we may notice a significant deviation from the ideology of the
Enlightenment. The early romantic concept of a “spirit of the people” was even being
applied to the visual arts.
2.2 Nineteenth century
Etruscan studies in the nineteenth century, which had developed alongside advances
in archaeology and epigraphy as sciences with an increasingly solid methodological
foundation, yielded useful corpora of figural monuments, including engraved mirrors
and urns with reliefs. But they addressed the theme of the difference between Greek
and Etruscan art in nothing more than taxonomic terms (this was particularly the
case with discussions of decorated pottery).5 In comparison with the intense debate of
Winckelmann’s time, scholars did not take significant steps toward a general histori-
cal interpretation of Etruscan art until the end of the century, when the synthesis by
Jules Martha—despite the promising title of L’art étrusque—was nothing more than a
comprehensive, purely antiquarian survey.6
2.3 Early twentieth century
The most critical period for debate on Etruscan art is in fact the twentieth century,
with a particularly lively phase, at least in Italy, from the 1920s to the 1940s. The
reasons for this chronological and cultural framework are clear. From a methodo-
logical perspective, we may refer to the work of the anti-Winckelmann group that had
developed among art historians at the University of Vienna, which led to the aban-
donment of Hellenophile prejudices and to the historical contextualization of other
possible figural options (especially those of Roman art).7 On the other hand, from an
ideological-political perspective, the completion of the process of the political unifi-
cation of the Italian State led some of the major scholars of antiquity to reassess the
evidence of the several pre-Roman archaeological cultures of Italy and, most notably,
the Etruscan.8 Lastly, we should also take into consideration anti-classical artistic
5 Cristofani 1978, 14–17; Harari 2012a, 28–32.

6 Martha 1889.
7 See Sciolla 1993.
8 Harari 2012b.

tastes,9 which were stimulated within the intellectual milieu of the early twentieth
century by the displays of unexpected masterpieces, such as the terra-cotta statues of
the temple of Portonaccio at the Museum of Villa Giulia (Figs. 51.1. and 51.7).
In Italy, this debate, which precedes the tragic cut-off point of World War II, devel-
oped almost entirely on the assumption that particular ethnicities are connected to
artistic productions, and it involved a close comparison of the figural world typical
of the Etruscans with that of other ancient Mediterranean cultures. This approach
claimed that Etruscan artistic concepts survived and extended into the Italian Middle
Ages and the Renaissance (such claims were made to argue for the originality of such
works and to grant them a position within the nation’s cultural history). The attempt
to maintain this position was carried out with critical tools and terminology that
were much closer to Winckelmann’s than to Alois Riegl’s, and that were dangerously
exposed to the Romano-centric propaganda of the fascist regime. In fact, they pro-
duced an irreversible crisis within the interpretative model of ethnicity, a model con-
sumed by internal contradictions.10 The extent of this crisis can be clearly read in the
studies of Ranuccio Bianchi Bandinelli, who had a firsthand knowledge of German
bibliography and found in the philosophy of Benedetto Croce a theoretical approach
appropriate for the full reestablishment of a historical view of ancient art. The art of
the Etruscans (and of other ethnic groups in pre-Roman Italy) was described in his
studies, through the metaphor of language, as being something of a lowly “dialect” in
contrast with the high and “literary” paradigm of Greek art.11
2.4 Post-World War II
Immediately after the war, Italy saw a substantial slowdown—almost a collapse—of

this debate, with Bianchi Bandinelli himself even turning to other issues: the repre-
sentation of Greek figural art as an art of reality; and regarding the field of Roman
art, the development of a characteristically dialectical model of interpretation.12
In Germany, on the other hand, Guido von Kaschnitz-Weinberg identified what he
presumed to be a structural and unchanging aspect of Etruscan (and Italian) art, a
persistently “stereometric” organization of the form; so he relocated the connotation
of ethnicity to within the artwork itself, a process that led the Viennese Kunstwollen
(“taste”) to become an irrational metaphysical category.13
9 Harari 1993; 2000a; 2000b.

10 Harari 1993. See also Cristofani 1978, 18–20.
11 Bianchi Bandinelli and Giuliano 1973, 343–52. See Harari 2012a, 34.
12 Harari 1992.
13 Cristofani 1978, 18–19.

74 Maurizio Harari
As a result, the general awareness that it was impossible to speak of an “Etrus-

can” art (understood as a product and expression of an ethnic culture) gradually sur-
faced. In place of “Etruscan art,” an alternative model was developed in which the
art of the Etruscans (that is, for the Etruscans), although produced in Etruria for the
Etruscan market, appeared to be quite largely based on an alien, imported figural
repertory. So Massimo Pallottino introduced and developed new ways of understand-
ing the relationship—the dualism—between an artistic center and its periphery, and
argued that the periphery, too, could be characterized by activity and creativity, both
of which could be identified in the selection criteria used and in the timing of the
adoption and application of Greek historical styles.14 The idea of an Etruscan civiliza-
tion, which inspired a memorable and multifaceted series of exhibitions in 1985,15 still
fit into the varied social context of the Greek city-state and could be used to explain
(sometimes using the anthropological model of colonial “acculturation”) the relation-
ship between and application of external contributions and local modifications.
It is no coincidence that two of the most influential art monographs of the 1970s
and 1980s were entitled The Art of the Etruscans instead of Etruscan Art.16 This sig-
nified a conscious detachment from any illusory ideas of ethnicity and the use of a
strategic approach to the analysis of the economic and social structures (Production
and consumption is the eloquent subtitle used by Mauro Cristofani).
This approach has led research to focus on content rather than form. If there is no
“Etruscan” style as such, but only a range of Greek styles (and before these, Levantine
styles) that were introduced over time in Etruria and from which Etruscans extracted
the forms of their artistic language, it is the themes within Etruscan art that become
the true object of the critics. An exegesis of such topics has become the high point of
any analysis. These forms of visual communication are not Etruscan, in this sense,
because of their morphology, but on account of what it is that they represent, in that
the how (i.e., the style, the way they look) is modeled on the what (i.e., the subject, the
content of the images).
This, I believe, may justify the turning point that originated in Erwin Panofsky’s
iconology, one of the most innovative critical trends of the last thirty years. It may
help us to understand why Françoise-Hélène Massa Pairault identified this method-
ology as the best way to coherently develop the teachings of Bianchi Bandinelli.17
Given the scarcity (or absence) of literary sources and the lack of a sufficiently instruc-
tive context, the interpretation of iconographic codes must be pursued through a cir-
14 Harari 2000a, 30–31; 2012a, 35.

15 In Arezzo, Chiusi, Cortona, Florence, etc.; one may name, among a number of catalogues, Colonna
1985 and Cristofani 1985. On Etruscan exhibitions in the second half of the twentieth century, see
Harari 2012a.
16 Cristofani 1978; Torelli 1985.
17 Massa-Pairault 1985, xiii–xvii; 1992, 7–14.

cumstantial reconstruction of the representational programs, and it is within such

schemas that it may be possible for us to recognize the specific contribution (which
is to some extent a cultural identifier) of the Etruscan “producers” and “consumers”
of art.
An alternative form of criticism, built on the seemingly more traditional base of
morphological analysis and on the history of styles, is exemplified by the (posthu-
mous) essay of Otto Brendel,18 a figure who has, with a few prominent exceptions,
been unjustly marginalized within the Italian debate. Brendel does not doubt that it
is possible to identify an Etruscan art that was organic, and that appeared to him to
be the only Western equivalent of the Greek classical (thus virtually international)
experience. As a consequence, he made use of the same Greek sequence of art styles
(from the Geometric to the Hellenistic) to classify Etruscan art, arguing that such an
approach would allow for the systematic identification of the ways in which Etruscan
productions differed from the Greek norm.
In my opinion, a stylistic criticism based on Brendel can very profitably accom-
pany and complement the interpretation (and decryption) of figural programs. Let
us assume that there was a certain amount of continuity and group cohesion among
the purchasers of art. In the Etruscan city-state, these consumers were for centuries
a structured and aristocratic elite, and, as a consequence, the figures and monu-
ments that were designed for commemorative purposes—both in life and above all in
death—were almost always of a private and not a civic character. It is possible, then,
to detect in the adoption (or rejection) of Greek language the presence of a conscious
strategy of communication, which adopted Greek styles according to circumstances
and requirements that were strictly related to the contents.
This point may be clarified with some examples. The artisans who served the sev-
enth-century Etruscan aristoi adapted the animalistic and mythological iconography
expressed in the grandly naturalistic manner of the palatial schools of the Near East.
They did this in order to express princeliness in funerary contexts19 through a direct
transfer of key images of power, legitimacy, and divine protection from the Levantine
royal citadels to the necropolises of Tyrrhenian Italy. This choice obviously involved
an irreversible conversion to a properly figural art.
In a similar sense, in the second half of the sixth century, the sophisticated lan-
guage of Eastern Greek sculpture and painting—created to lend an appealing grace
to the luxury of the tyrannical courts—became the typical Etruscan style that can be
found on the antefixes and acroteria of temples as much as on the walls of tombs
and on high-quality painted pottery. At the end of the century, Thefarie Velianas, the
king of Caere, built an architectural complex like a Levantine sanctuary in the sacred
18 Brendel 1995 (with updated bibliography), originally published in 1978.

19 Principi 2000. See chapter 45 Menichetti.

76 Maurizio Harari
northern precinct of Pyrgi and dedicated it to the Phoenician goddess Ishtar.20 He

commanded his terra-cotta modelers to design the antefixes of the house of the sacred
prostitutes by an East-Greek reinterpretation of images, which were at least partly
derived from ancient Mesopotamian and Urartian models. Such an iconographic
choice constitutes a revival of the Orientalizing culture and does not appear to have
been borrowed from the Greeks, but must be regarded as genuinely Etruscan.21
Some other examples may be taken from the Hellenistic era, with its engraved
mirrors displaying mythological scenes, highly complex painting programs (such as
the François Tomb at Vulci), and reliefs of the funerary urns of Volterra, Chiusi, and
Perugia. The valuable and pioneering iconological survey of Massa-Pairault22 was fol-
lowed by contributions from young scholars.23 Using not entirely coincidental inter-
pretative criteria, they agree in identifying the presence of an articulated system of
schemata that were derived from the Greek narrative repertoire and were reused in
these late monuments as adaptable all-purpose additions. Those schemata can be
assembled to signify ethical concepts as well as the fundamental values of family life
and concordia civium.
References
Bianchi Bandinelli, R., and A. Giuliano 1973. Etruschi e Italici prima del dominio di Roma. Milan:
Rizzoli.
Brendel, O. J. Etruscan Art. 1995. 2nd ed. Edited by F. R. Serra Ridgway. New Haven: Yale University
Press.
Colonna, G., ed. 1985. Santuari d’Etruria, exhibition catalogue. Milan: Electa. 
–. 2000. “Il santuario di Pyrgi dalle origini mitistoriche agli altorilievi frontonali dei Sette e di
Leucotea.” ScAnt 10: 251–336.
Cristofani, M. 1978. L’arte degli Etruschi. Produzione e consumo. Turin: Einaudi. 
–. 1983. La scoperta degli Etruschi. Archeologia e antiquaria nel ’700. Rome: CNR. 
–. ed. 1985. Civiltà degli Etruschi, exhibition catalogue. Milan: Electa. 
de Angelis, F. 2015. Miti greci in tombe etrusche. Le urne cinerarie di Chiusi. Rome: Giorgio
Bretschneider. 
Domenici, I. 2009. Etruscae fabulae. Mito e rappresentazione. Rome: Giorgio Bretschneider.
Harari, M. 1988. “Toscanità = etruschità. Da modello a mito storiografico: le origini settecentesche.”
Xenia 15: 65–72. 
–. 1992. “Etruscan Art. From Difference to Duality (and beyond). ” The Accordia Research Papers 3:
101–6. 
–. 1993. “Cultura moderna e arte etrusco-italica.” RivStorIt 105: 730–43.
20 Colonna 2000. See chapter 51 Spivey and Harari.

21 Harari 2014.
22 Massa-Pairault 1985.
23 Domenici 2009; de Angelis 2015.

–. 2000a. “Digressione sull’anticlassico.” In Plinio il Vecchio. Storia delle arti antiche, edited by
M. Harari, 28–32. Milan: Biblioteca Universale Rizzoli.
–. 2000b. “Due vecchi sposi di Volterra e la questione del realismo: un dibattito italiano.” RivStorIt
112: 636–49. 
–. 2012a. “Storia degli studi.” In Introduzione all’etruscologia, edited by G. Bartoloni, 19–46. Milan:
Hoepli. 
–. 2012b. “Etruscologia e fascismo.” Athenaeum 100: 405–418. 
–. 2014. “Thefarie committente.” AnnMuseoFaina 21: 573–584.
Iozzo, M., Cianferoni, G. C., Lyons, C. L., Pevnick, S. D. 2009. The Chimaera of Arezzo. Florence:
Polistampa. 
Maggiani, A. 2009. “La Chimera bronzea di Arezzo.” In Arezzo nell’antichità, edited by
G. Camporeale and G. Firpo, 113–24. Rome: Giorgio Bretschneider.
Martha, J. 1889. L’art étrusque, illustré de 4 planches en couleurs et de 400 gravures dans le texte,
d’après les originaux ou d’après les documents les plus authentiques. Paris: Firmin-Didot. 
Massa-Pairault, F.-H. 1985. Recherches sur l’art et l’artisanat étrusco-italiques à l’époque
hellénistique. Rome: École Française.
–. 1992. Iconologia e politica nell’Italia antica. Roma, Lazio, Etruria dal VII al I sec. a.C. Milan:
Longanesi.
Pallottino, M. 1977. “Vasari e la Chimera.” Prospettiva 8: 4–6.
Principi 2000. Principi etruschi tra Mediterraneo ed Europa, exhibition catalogue. Venice: Marsilio.
Sciolla, G. C. 1993. Argomenti viennesi. Turin: Il Segnalibro.
Torelli, M. 1985. L’arte degli Etruschi. Rome, Bari: Laterza.

Natacha Lubtchansky
6 Iconography and iconology,
Nineteenth to Twenty-first centuries
Abstract: The different approaches to the figure-decorated material of the last fifty years, such as
Erwin Panofsky’s opposition between iconography and iconology, or the anthropological study of
the “cité des images” developed in the “École de Paris” around Jean-Pierre Vernant and Pierre Vidal-
Naquet, have not superseded some of the positions that were taken in the early nineteenth century.
From that time through the most recent publications, we can observe three distinct interpretations
of the Etruscan images. First, they represent the happy or terrifying life the dead can expect after the
funerary rituals are completed; second, they symbolize the aristocratic life they led and, like the sym-
posion sets deposited in the grave, define the social status of the dead; and third, they reproduce the
rituals conducted during the funerals, as a testimony of their correct observance.
It therefore seems necessary not to separate the study of the iconography from various ques-
tions concerning the date, artist, place of production, and external formal influences displayed by
the image.
Keywords: images, Greek, Etruscan
Introduction
Reflecting on the different ways figure-decorated representations on Etruscan arti-
facts have been interpreted, one has to look back to the early period of scholarship
when those images were discovered in considerable number and their meanings were
first thoroughly discussed – that is, back to the beginning of the nineteenth century.
At that time, the discovery of a vast number of painted vases in the necropolis of
Vulci and the unprecedented evidence of wall paintings in the Monterozzi cemetery
in Tarquinia-Corneto added a lot of new evidence to the already considerable number
of relief urns and engraved mirrors, and antiquarians had to invent and elaborate
original methods to classify and explain those items.
The different approaches to the figure-decorated material of the last fifty years,1
such as Erwin Panofsky’s opposition between iconography and iconology, or the
anthropological study of the “cité des images” developed in the “École de Paris”
around Jean-Pierre Vernant and Pierre Vidal-Naquet, have not superseded some of
the positions that were taken in the early nineteenth century. From that time through
the most recent publications, we can observe three distinct interpretations of the
Etruscan images. First, they represent the happy or terrifying life the dead can expect
1 Summary of Etruscan wall-painting scholarship in Arias 1989, followed up for the next decade by
Rouveret 2000–2001.
80 Natacha Lubtchansky
Fig. 6.1: Tarquinia. Copy of Tomb of the Inscriptions (after Torelli 1997, p. 134, fig. 107).
after the funerary rituals are completed; second, they symbolize the aristocratic life
they led and, like the symposion sets deposited in the grave, define the social status
of the dead; and third, they reproduce the rituals conducted during the funerals, as
a testimony of their correct observance. The funerary orientation of some of these
interpretations is explained by the archaeological provenance of most of the Etruscan
images: they were produced for the grave or deposited in it.2
Another recurrent statement by archaeologists and art historians over the last
two centuries is the importance of the debt owed by Etruscan art to Greek artifacts
and artists in every period. This influence is taken into account by scholars when
dealing both with the formal components of the figure-decorated scene and with its
meanings. It therefore seems necessary not to separate the study of the iconography
from various questions concerning the date, artist, place of production, and external
formal influences displayed by the image.
The following chronological survey of nineteenth- to twenty-first-century schol-
arship on Etruscan figure-decorated representations focuses on two monuments—the
Tomba delle Iscrizioni (Tomb of Inscriptions) in Tarquinia (510 BCE; Fig. 6.1) and the
calyx-krater from Vulci in the Cabinet des Médailles in Paris (330–300 BCE; Fig. 6.2)—
both discovered around 1830 and discussed throughout this period by numerous
scholars.3
2 For a recent presentation of the non-funerary orientation of the Etruscan iconography on vase
painting, see Bonaudo 1999.
3 See the web site Iconographie et Archéologie pour l’Italie préromaine (ICAR): http://icar.huma-num.
fr/icardb/support.php?idsupport=TARQ69 and Martelli 1987, 327.

6 Iconography and iconology, Nineteenth to Twenty-first centuries 81
Fig. 6.2: Cabinet des Médailles in Paris. Calyx-krater from Vulci (330–300 BCE)
(after Monuments Inédits 1834, pl. 9).

1 The establishment of research methods

in the second quarter of the nineteenth century:
Corpora and series
An appropriate starting point is the Latin maxim of Eduard Gerhard, published in
his famous Rapporto Volcente:4 “Monumentorum artis, qui unum uidit nullum uidit,
qui milia uidit, unum uidit” [Concerning monuments of art, who has seen one has
seen none; who has seen a thousand has seen one]. This sentence states the “corpus”
principle and explains the method of analyzing images by arranging them in series.
Two of these nineteenth-century corpora are that of engraved mirrors, started by
Gerhard—who abandoned the previous identification as mystic plates5—and that of
Hellenistic figure-decorated urns, also conceived by Gerhard but carried out by Hein-
rich von Brunn (1870) and then Gustav Körte (1890–96), who assembled an extensive
series of items, almost all decorated with mythological scenes.6 The other two impor-
tant corpora of Etruscan artifacts are of wall paintings and figure-decorated vases,
both of which were in progress for many years (see below).
Concerning the figure-decorated vases, the first question to be solved at that time
was their place of production. They represented a major field of antiquarian study
because they were the main documents other than Greek and Latin texts from which
to learn of myths and ancient practices. During the seventeenth and eighteenth centu-
ries, all such vases—kept on library shelves above the books—were considered Etrus-
can, because they were discovered in the necropolises of Etruria, part of the phenom-
enon known as “Etruscomania.” By the second quarter of the nineteenth century,
most of the painted vases discovered in Etruscan graves had been properly identified
as Greek in origin, thus depriving Etruscan archaeology of a major field of study. This
took place in the antiquarian sphere and soon received general acceptance. By 1850,
very few vases were still credited to Etruscan workmanship. All that were left as Etrus-
can were bucchero, Etrusco-Corinthian ware, and red-figure vases. Not until 1947 did
John D. Beazley publish the first corpus of Etruscan vase-painting.7
By what criteria, then, were Etruscan figure-decorated vases analyzed at that
time? The calyx-krater of the Cabinet des Médailles was discovered in 1833 (quickly
entering the Baron Beugnot’s collection) and published, one year later, by Desiré
4 Gerhard 1831, p. 111. Gerhard founded the German archaeological association the Hyperboreans,
which become, with the addition of foreign antiquarians, the Instituto di Corrispondenza Archeologica.
5 Gerhard 1843–67.
6 Brunn and Körte 1870–96.
7 Beazley 1947, to be completed by the CVA.

Raoul-Rochette, claiming to write the first real study of Etruscan painted vases.8
Etruscan features were first sought in the inscriptions that were integrated into the
scenes and then in the style and the subject depicted. According to the author, the
scene, representing Ajax slaughtering a Trojan prisoner, was typical of the taste for
cruelty, bloodshed, and pain that Etruscans appreciated. To identify the subject on
the other side of the krater—Charun greeting three dead women—the scholar com-
pares other Etruscan art as well as ancient texts: he clearly identifies Charun as the
Etruscan demon of death, citing urns from Volterra; but for the woman on the right,
identified as the Amazon Penthesilea by an inscription, he finds no text in ancient
literature to explain the scene, which puzzles him greatly. This systematic reference
to a text in order to interpret the image is another way of analyzing figure-decorated
objects that would last long in scholarship.
As for wall painting from the necropolises of Etruria, the scholars of this period
saw it as important evidence because there was no doubt as to its place of produc-
tion (the paintings that cover the walls of the tombs were made on the spot) and it
explained the beginnings of Etruscan art, its imitation of Greek art, and gave some
idea of the appearance of lost Greek painting that is known only from the textual
tradition. The first scientific edition did not begin until 1937, with the collection
Monumenti della pittura antica scoperti in Italia. Pittura etrusca, complete catalogues
appearing only after 1980.9 But as soon as they were discovered, the paintings were
copied, as were mirrors and urns, given the additional problem that as soon as they
were exposed, they quickly deteriorated.
The Tomb of Inscriptions in Tarquinia was discovered in 1827 by August Kestner,
Otto Magnus von Stackelberg, and Joseph Thürmer, who immediately took charge of
copying the paintings. Kestner published the monument almost immediately, inter-
preting the tomb as Etruscan work because of the rudeness of the forms, whereas the
scenes depict rituals: the parade of horsemen and the pugilists represent the funer-
ary games; the dancers, a procession for Dionysus (Fig. 6.1).10 This realistic thesis is
explicitly opposed to a previous publication by Raoul-Rochette upholding an escha-
tological interpretation: the scenes illustrate the happy life in the hereafter gained
by the deceased, who are depicted in the dance of wine, thanks to an initiation to
Dionysus.11
This first period established the principal methods of research: constructing
corpora of the artifacts, arranging them in series to understand their meaning (realis-
8 Raoul-Rochette 1834.
9 Steingräber 1984. See also a digital catalogue on the web: ICAR, une base de données des scènes
figurées de l’Italie pré-romaine: http://icar.huma-num.fr/, directed by N. Lubtchansky.
10 Kestner 1829.
11 Raoul-Rochette 1828.

tic or eschatological perspectives), taking into account their inscriptions, comparing

them with ancient texts, and emphasizing Greek influence.
2 Exegesis from the later nineteenth century to 1930

The first works of synthesis on the meanings of Etruscan figural scenes developed
in the second period and involved intense scholarly debate.12 The widely read book
by the French historian Jules Martha was published in 1889,13 in which he set down
the main theories of the significations of tomb paintings. Martha distinguished two
periods: before the third century BCE, most of the scenes realistically depict the
funeral ceremonies performed in honor of the deceased; they are represented in the
tomb to attest to the piety of the dead’s family and to grant him eternal happiness.
From the third century on, the figure-decorated scenes take place in the underworld:
the migration of souls, demons, and the deceased depicted as a hero justify this
second eschatological approach.
Thus Martha links the Tomb of Inscriptions—belonging to the first period—to the
iconography of funeral ceremonies: it depicts a horse race won by one horseman. The
two sides of the calyx-krater, with the demon of death, would then relate to the second
period: the women are depicted in the hereafter and the slaughter of the prisoner
refers to a tragic death, in the presence of Charun waiting to ferry the soul.
Martha’s interpretation very clearly set the terms of what was to become a dispute
between the realistic and the eschatological readings, since scholars would soon be
interpreting the scenes in funerary iconography of all periods as depicting the next
world. This is the case of Fritz Weege,14 who states that tomb paintings represent the
world of the dead from the Archaic period until the end of Etruscan culture. The only
change concerns the tone of the scenes: beginning in the fourth century, the world
of the hereafter is depicted as terrifying and dark, featuring dreadful demons like
Charun, whereas it is filled with happiness in the Archaic period. This change was
due to religious influence, Orphic and Pythagorean, coming from Magna Graecia.
Shortly after its publication, the book was sharply criticized by two scholars:
the Dane Fredrick Poulsen upheld the realistic reading whereas the Dutch scholar
Carel Claudius van Essen stated that the violent elements of the iconography from the
fourth century had nothing to do with Orphism:15 at that very moment, the Etruscans
freed themselves from Greek culture, permitting a new language to arise.
12 See also Arias 1989.

13 Martha 1889.
14 Weege 1921.
15 Poulsen 1922; Van Essen 1927.

3 Mapping the workshops of Etruscan artifacts

(1930–1960)
After the period of debate over the meaning of funerary iconography, the next three
decades were marked by studies that probed the formal aspects of image. Inheriting
the German approach of corpora and developing connoisseurship of vases, Beazley
undertook the first complete classification of Etruscan figure-decorated vases, iden-
tifying the artists or workshops of more than a thousand items.16 At the same time,
several scholars treated wall paintings the same way: Franz Messerschmidt, Pericle
Ducati, Ranuccio Bianchi Bandinelli, Luisa Banti, Massimo Pallottino and Giovan-
nangelo Camporeale worked on the classification of the paintings, in order to map
and date their production.17 Their creation was said to begin on the coastal cities
(Tarquinia) and then develop in inland Etruria (Chiusi). They also emphasized Greek
influence on the Etruscan workshops: Corinthian, Laconian, Ionian, and lastly Attic.
Other corpora were studied as well: the relief stone monuments from Archaic
Chiusi (urns, cippi), were gathered by Enrico Paribeni in the late 1930s,18 the figure-
decorated stelae from Felsina in the Po valley19 and the Pontic vases (1932),20 by
Ducati, to mention the main works that looked at workshop and formal aspects.
Thus, the style of the paintings of the Tomb of Inscriptions is related to the emi-
gration of Ionian artists to Etruria, the workshop having also produced the Tombs dei
Baccanti (of the Bacchants), del Morto (the Dead Man), dei Vasi Dipinti (the Painted
Vases), and del Vecchio (the Old Man), according to Pallottino21.
As for the calyx-krater, Beazley attributes it to a period of decadence of vase
painting, because of its coarse style. But against other scholars Beazley is ready to
defend the quality of Etruscan art, and especially of violent scenes like the slaughter
of the Trojan prisoner on the krater, a scene which actually comes from Greece and
emphasizes the “heroic strain of the Etruscan character.”22 In analyzing the pattern
of Ajax and the Trojan, Beazley compares it to several other monuments showing the
same composition, but with Achilles, and proposes a Greek model. In the krater, the
addition of Charun is an adaptation to the Etruscan beliefs; the different attitude of
the victim is a variation from the Greek model; and the inscription indicating Ajax
16 Beazley 1947.
17 Messerschmidt 1926; Ducati 1937; Bianchi Bandinelli 1939; Pallottino 1952; Banti 1955–56 and
Camporeale 1968.
18 Paribeni 1938; Paribeni 1939; supplemented by Jannot 1984.
19 Ducati 1911. For studies of the iconography, see the review of the literature by Sassatelli and Govi
2007.
20 Ducati 1932; supplemented by Hannestad 1974. On black-figure workshops, see also Gaultier 1995
and Spivey 1987.
21 Pallottino 1952.
22 Beazley 1947, 8.

(Aivas) is a slip for Achle (Achilles). So again what is important here is to set down the
dependence or originality of Etruscan forms with respect to the Greek forms.
Finally, by the end of the period, worldwide interest was excited by Erika Simon
and Roland Hampe’s book on the question of Greek models, but interrogating the
iconography. Examining the meaning of scenes on vases and bronze artifacts of the
Archaic period, they reveal the Etruscans’ deep knowledge of Greek mythology.23
4 New approaches to the meanings of images

in the 1970–1980s: Social background, semiotics,
and genealogy
In the late 1970s, several authors borrowed a methodology of analyzing images from
archaeological studies, specifically concerning funeral data. The social reading of
grave furnishings is associated with the anthropological concept of acculturation,
another way to speak of influence, removing the problematic hierarchy between
source culture (Greeks) and target culture (Etruscans).24 This sociological approach is
well represented by Mauro Cristofani, who shows how the funeral is a crucial moment
in social life.25 We can recognize in that moment a display of the social status of the
deceased person, who has deployed very thoughtful strategies, including the produc-
tion of images.
Another archaeologist, Bruno d’Agostino, has certainly taken this social reading
of funerary figural representations the furthest.26 The social reading is to take wall
painting or engraved monuments included in the tombs as showing emblematic
scenes of the life of the Etruscan lord, since the images remain a privilege of the aris-
tocratic class. Those scenes are specifically designed to embody his social status. In
the Tomb of Inscriptions, the komos (wine dance), and the symposion (wine consump-
tion), are part of the worthiest activities and characterize, according to d’Agostino, the
social and familial dignity of the deceased lord.27 We may also emphasize that differ-
ent age classes are embodied by different activities: the horsemen in the left corner
of the chamber represent the young men, the dancers with wine vases on the right,
23 Hampe and Simon 1964. For reaction to this thesis, see Camporeale 1969. See also Simon 1973 for
wall-paintings.
24 For the Etruscans, Cristofani 1976. For a more methodological approach, Rouveret and Gruzinski
1976.
25 Cristofani 1978.
26 The studies date from 1980s. They are reprinted in d’Agostino and Cerchiai 1999.
27 See d’Agostino and Cerchiai 1999, 13–30.

the adults.28 Thus in this interpretation, d’Agostino denies the realistic and “magico-
religious” readings that recognize in Archaic-period scenes the different moments of
the funerary rites or the future life in the underworld.29
In addition to this sociological view of images, d’Agostino has emphasized how
French and Swiss scholars, such as Alain Schnapp, François Lissarrague, or Claude
Bérard, have studied figure-decorated scenes using linguistic and semiotic princi-
ples.30 At the same time the “cité des images” was constructed for the figure-deco-
rated vases produced in Athens, d’Agostino and, following him, Luca Cerchiai try to
understand the language of Etruscan images by constructing series.31 For the Tomb
of Inscriptions, d’Agostino tackles the interpretation of the doors that are painted in
the middle of each wall in the tomb and are a common feature of funerary wall paint-
ings.32 Between the two traditional explanations – the doors represent the possibility
of enlarging the tomb with further chambers that had not yet been dug, or they sym-
bolize death and the underworld33 – d’Agostino prefers the latter but adds the idea
that they represent the deceased ex absentia: borrowing the notion of code-switching
from the linguistic field, he sets an equivalence between the closed doors surrounded
by various characters (dancers, musicians, pugilists, mourners) in different tombs,
and the enormous krater in the Tomb of Lionesses flanked by the aulos and the lyre
players. Like the doors, this vase represents the deceased ex absentia.
Lastly, the sociological and semiotic approaches go together with a renewal of
the thesis that the Etruscans were very familiar with Greek culture, as Simon and
Hampe stated. Recently, d’Agostino and Cerchiai have thus provocatively stated that
“Etruria was a province of Greek culture.”34 A good example is the case of the Greek
symposion: although with some differences, it is borrowed by the Etruscan aristocracy
in its more specific details, as comparison between Etruscan images and Greek epics
shows.35
As for mythological scenes, scholars also insist on the genealogical interpretation
of the myths illustrated. The characters depicted in the figure-decorated represen-
28 Lubtchansky 2005. For the same analysis of the iconography of women: Lubtchansky 2006.
29 See d’Agostino and Cerchiai 1999, 32 (but corrigendum, xxiii). But Cerchiai, who is close to
d’Agostino in this social reading of the images, also studies some scenes that already in the Archaic
period depict the underworld: Cerchiai 2008.
30 For a methodological example of this line of study: Bérard 1983. This approach has been first used
by Angela Pontrandolfo and Agnès Rouveret for Paestan paintings: Greco Pontrandolfo and Rouveret
1982.
31 Cerchiai applies the same view to Felsinian stelae. See the discussion in Cerchiai 2012 and Sassatelli
and Govi 2007. For Caeretan hydriai, see Bonaudo 1999.
32 See d’Agostino and Cerchiai 1999, 13–30.
33 On the interpretation of doors: Naso 1996, 420.
34 See d’Agostino and Cerchiai 1999, XIX.
35 Cerchiai and d’Agostino 2004.

tations are connected with a discourse developed by the client claiming the Greek
heroes as his ancestors.36 Thus, the calyx-krater in Paris, with the slaughter of the
Trojan prisoner, is interpreted genealogically:37 the presence of Ajax instead of Achil-
les is no longer considered a mistake, as Beazley claimed, but a choice of the pur-
chaser of the vase who ordered for his tomb a special scene placing himself in the
lineage of the Greek hero Ajax (Fig. 6.2).
This is confirmed by study of the inscriptions (an earlier inscription Achle has
been found underneath Aivas) and comparison of the bearded Ajax with the other
examples of this scene that always present Achilles as beardless.38
5 On rituals and beliefs in the 1990s and 2000s

The previous period of scholarship ended with a disruptive discovery: the Tomba dei
Demoni Azzuri (Tomb of the Blue Demons) in Tarquinia, a discovery that was to bring
about a return to the earlier studies of the religious aspects of iconography after the
period of sociological discourse.39
The tomb was discovered in 1985. Dated to 440 BCE, it seems to be the first
painted tomb that represents the demons of the underworld in a realistic manner:
blue skin, red hair, and bloody mouth. The scenes are arranged to be viewed in order,
from the front entrance of the tomb to the back. The scene with the demons is on the
right-hand wall, and Francesco Roncalli has convincingly argued that it represents
the passage of the deceased woman from right to left, across the rocks inhabited by
the blue demons, toward the boat, where the boatman waits to conduct her to the
world of happiness that she has been granted.40
Mauro Cristofani sets the monument in a moment of transition between two peri-
ods.41 First, before the middle of the fifth century, there is no representation of the
underworld: instead there are either excerpts from the rituals, or scenes symbolizing
the social status of the deceased. The second period is marked by the irruption of a
realistic depiction of the underworld with its inhabitants, its demons, and a black
36 Among more recent publications: for urns, van der Meer 2004 de Angelis 2015; for mirrors,
de Angelis 2002; for engraved scarabs, Krauskopf 1999.
37 Maggiani 1985, 208–12. This iconographic trend is to be connected to a major expansion of
genealogical legends that developed in various Etruscan sites of the Classical and Hellenistic periods
concerning the offspring of various Greek heroes in Italy. See Briquel 1984.
38 Martelli (ed.) 1987, 327.
39 ICAR: http://icar.huma-num.fr/icar/support.php?idsupport=TARQ17.
40 Roncalli 1997. See also Rouveret 2000–2001.
41 Cristofani 1989.

cloud surrounding the scene: a suggestion not far from what was already understood
by Martha.
This discovery has brought about in recent years a common line of research ori-
ented toward the religious content of the images.42 Beliefs and dogma on the one
hand, rituals on the other, are taken into account by scholars who have produced
innovative readings. These new statements connect the images to ancient texts and to
the architecture of the tomb (in the case of tomb paintings).
Concerning religious dogma, Roncalli refers to the literary tradition, unfortu-
nately very late,43 of the Etruscan practice of divinizing sacrifices that render the
deceased equal to the gods by offering the blood of certain animals to certain deities.
The architectural feature known as the console, which appeared, in the Archaic
period, at the center of the pediment between fighting animals, recalls the shape of
altars for sacrifice, the hunting of animals evoking the blood shed during sacrifice.
In the Tomb of Inscriptions, this specific “altar-console” is missing, but the tails
of the two symmetrical lions, where the console would be in the middle of the pedi-
ment of the back wall, recall the volutes that adorn the console in other archaic tombs
of Tarquinia.
Other contributions have studied the journey of the deceased to the underworld,
a topic that had been forsaken since the social reading of images was undertaken. The
argument concerns vases and funerary monuments of the Classical and Hellenistic
periods, a point that doesn’t give rise to discussion,44 whereas for the Archaic period,
the iconography remains ambiguous and the point is still at issue.45 Those religious
inquiries also stress the funerary role of deities, such as Dionysus, the Dioscuri,
Hermes-Turms, and Orpheus, whose cult, according to some scholars, can already be
discerned in images of the Archaic period.46
As for rituals, on the other hand, scholars have emphasized the location of the
images inside the tomb. Their location bears a precise signification. According to
Agnès Rouveret, the decorative system of the tomb painting (trees, tents, doors) cor-
responds to a practice, well known among the Etruscans, of cutting out and marking
off some areas as sacred spaces.47 Arranging the tombs in a series, the author under-
42 See Rouveret 2000–2001 and Lubtchansky 2014.

43 Arnobius and Servius are both of the fourth century CE. See Roncalli 1990, and most recently
Camporeale 2009; Warden 2009.
44 For instance, Rendeli 1996, Bonamici 2005, Sassatelli and Govi 2007.
45 See Cébeillac-Gervasoni 1989, for the differences of opinion between N. Spivey and J. Heurgon,
and more recently Sassatelli and Govi 2007, Cerchiai 2012, for the opposition between L. Cerchiai and
G. Sassatelli. See also Serra Ridgway 2006.
46 In general, see Bonamici 2005. For Dionysus, see Massa-Pairault 1998, Krauskopf 2005 and
Cerchiai 2008; for the Dioscuri, Roncalli 1990, Colonna 1996; for Turms, Bonamici 2005; for Orpheus,
Ambrosini 1998.
47 Rouveret 1988.

lines the division into two groups of tombs in the Archaic period. In the first, the trees
are combined with doors to adorn scenes of games, whereas in the second, the tents
shelter banquet scenes. The Tomb of Inscriptions belongs to the first group: we see
three false doors associated with the various games. This must thus be connected
with a ritual organization of the paintings and the space in the tomb.
According to Mario Torelli, the ritual is displayed differently, though again
through tomb architecture.48 What has permitted this new analysis is the discovery of
the Tomb of the Blue Demons: there is a progression from the entrance of the tomb to
the back wall that corresponds to the journey of the deceased to enter the underworld.
Likewise in the Tomb of Inscriptions: the horsemen symbolize the journey toward the
underworld. The cavalcade on the left and the procession of dancers in the right rear
corner take place by the doors – a symbol of the path to the underworld: they are per-
formed in an ambiguous space, between the world of the living and the world of the
dead. The other scenes that happen before the doors in the two side walls are located
on earth: games on the left, rewards of the games on the right, and in the entrance
wall, funerary rituals of preparing food for the dead.49
This emphasis placed on the rituals is not exactly the same as the realistic or
mimetic readings that see funerary ceremonies in the tomb paintings; here the images
directly participate in the ritual, since they are located in strategic places of the funer-
ary space with respect to the ritual.
Fernando Gilotta finds the origin of the expression of this ambiguous time and
place of Etruscan funerary iconography in Attic vase paintings,50 while Torelli tends
to root the references to rituals in Etruscan and Italic ground. The inquiry into the
meanings of the images is thus connected to their formal study, which again illumi-
nates the links with the Greek world.
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Enrico Benelli
7 Approaches to the study of the language
Abstract: The process of decipherment of the Etruscan alphabet culminated in the groundbreaking
work by Luigi Lanzi (first published in 1789), who for the first time employed the immense collection
of Etruscan inscriptions assembled by Pietro Bucelli and acquired by the Florence museum. From
1789 on, it was possible to read all common Etruscan letters. Some rare graphemes of the Archaic
period were finally deciphered only in the twentieth century, but this delay did not affect the study of
Etruscan language, which Lanzi effectively started. One of the most notable achievements of Lanzi’s
work was the understanding of the most common features of Etruscan name formulae; since almost
90 percent of all Etruscan words known to us are personal names, this enabled scholars to understand
at least the simplest epigraphic texts.
Keywords: Etruscan language, decipherment, bilinguistic method
1 In search of the Etruscan language

It was not until the end of the eighteenth century that the decipherment of the Etrus-
can alphabet seriously began. In the preceding centuries, only a small number of
Etruscan inscriptions were known—often through inaccurate handwritten transcrip-
tions. Moreover, the evidence that scholars knew as “Etruscan” included a signifi-
cant amount of fakes and inscriptions in other languages (first of all, the “tabulae
Iguvinae”). The “Etruscan alphabets” drawn by scholars before the last years of the
seventeenth century included some letters that are actually nonexistent.
During the eighteenth century, the knowledge and understanding of Etruscan
writing increased dramatically, and fakes and non-Etruscan inscriptions were gradu-
ally recognized. Many uncertainties persisted, however, especially concerning the
various shapes many graphemes could present. The most striking example of the
state of knowledge in this period is the fake inscription carved on the rock, which
was the original location of CIE 8 before it was sawn off and carried to The Florence
National Archaeological Museum. Its author would have known only a typographic
transcription of the text, and transformed it again into Etruscan—or rather, what he
assumed was Etruscan.1
The process of decipherment culminated in the groundbreaking work by Luigi
Lanzi (first published in 1789), who for the first time, employed the immense collec-
tion of Etruscan inscriptions assembled by Pietro Bucelli and acquired by the Flor-
ence museum. From 1789 on, it was possible to read all common Etruscan letters but
one (the <z>, recognized by Lepsius in 1833). Some rare graphemes of the Archaic
1 Lambrechts 1963.
96 Enrico Benelli
period (like the cross-shaped <θ> and <ṡ>) were finally deciphered only in the twenti-
eth century, but this delay did not affect the study of Etruscan language, which Lanzi
effectively started.
One of the most notable achievements of Lanzi’s work was the understanding of
the most common features of Etruscan name formulae; since almost 90 percent of all
Etruscan words known to us are personal names, this enabled scholars to understand
at least the simplest epigraphic texts.2
2 The pioneers
The possibilities opened by Lanzi’s momentous decipherment were immediately
exploited. The first modern etruscological handbook, published in 1828 by Carl
Ottfried Müller3 included historical and sociological observations based on epi-
graphic evidence. Since knowledge of Etruscan language was limited almost only to
personal names and name formulae, Müller made reference to inscriptions in a pio-
neering attempt to sketch the composition of ruling elites of Etruscan cities and the
inner structure of the Etruscan family.
In the first half of the nineteenth century, scholars realized that further advances
were not possible without new readings of all Etruscan inscriptions. Sketches and
transcriptions published in older works were now recognized as mostly unreliable.
Giovanni Battista Vermiglioli, Arcangelo Michele Migliarini and Giancarlo Conesta-
bile della Staffa all contributed to the assemblage of partial corpora of Etruscan
inscriptions (although Migliarini’s work remained unpublished, and it is preserved
today only in manuscripts). The task was finally accomplished by Ariodante Fabretti
in 1867, with the publication of the CII, soon to be followed by three supplements
(1872, 1874, 1878) and a further massive update conveniently called an “appendix”
(Appendice) by Giovan Francesco Gamurrini in 1880. Fabretti collected inscriptions in
all indigenous languages of ancient Italy, because he considered all of them dialects—
or at least late developments—of one ancient “Italian” common tongue. This belief
was widely shared by scholars at that time, and also served political and ideological
purposes in the cultural framework of Italian “Risorgimento” (Fabretti himself was
forced into exile from his native Perugia in 1849, and was later to become a senator of
the [re]instated Italian kingdom).
The ponderous Glossarium Italicum accompanying the CII summarized all what
was known at that time about Etruscan language. It was in some ways the first reliable
2 About the story of the more or less fantastic “decipherments” of Etruscan alphabets until Lanzi see
Buonamici 1932, 17–45.
3 Müller 1828.

7 Approaches to the study of the language 97
Etruscan dictionary, although it mirrored a state of knowledge that may seem rudi-
mentary. In fact, after 1867, the distinction between scientific research and pseudo-
scientific speculation on Etruscan language was finally drawn, and a decade or so
later the study of Etruscan entered an entirely new phase. In 1874, Wilhelm Paul
Corssen published a grand volume in which he applied the new achievements of lin-
guistic science to Etruscan. Like many others in his time, he considered Etruscan an
Italic language, and attempted to translate it through etymological methods.4 It was
immediately followed by a tremendously incisive reply by Wilhelm Deecke,5 to whom
Corssen was unable to reply because he met a sudden and early death. Deecke point-
edly noted inconsistencies in Corssen’s work, and caused the etymological method to
be put aside forever in the study of Etruscan language. He showed that all proposed
affinities of Etruscan to other known languages did not seem safe enough to work
with etymologies. On the contrary, each etymological series led inevitably to dead
ends and sharp conflicts with the evidence. This is why he proposed a new method,
which he called “kombinatorisch,” according to which Etruscan linguistic evidence
should be studied in itself, the translation of each word (or stem) being the result of a
comparative study of its occurrences.
3 The new generation at work

The new method quickly became the standard approach, and survived Deecke’s later
retraction of his assumptions about the affinities between Etruscan and Italic lan-
guages. In fact, both ideas (Etruscan as Italic and as non-Italic) remained alive in the
following decades. However, the “combinatory” method was widely accepted by both
parties. It was especially the four series published by Deecke and Carl Pauli (Etrus
kische Forschungen, Etr. Studien, Etr. Forschungen und Studien, Altitalische Studien)
that contributed the most to the development of Etruscan language studies, alongside
the work of many other scholars like Sophus Bugge, Alf Torp, Jules Martha, Gustav
Herbig, Franz Skutsch and Elia Lattes. It is also important not to forget the important
role of Gamurrini who, being an archaeologist rather than a linguist, focused espe-
cially on the material aspects of epigraphy.
One of the greatest achievements of this period was the publication of the CIE.
It was a monumental enterprise, started and mostly realized—despite countless dif-
ficulties—thanks to Carl Pauli’s stubborn commitment (Fig. 7.1). The project started
as a volume of addenda et corrigenda to the CII, but it rapidly gained momentum,
especially when Pauli involved Olof August Danielsson (Fig. 7.1). The actual aim of
4 See Corssen 1874.

5 See Deecke 1875.

98 Enrico Benelli
Fig. 7.1: Portraits of famous linguists

the project (an entirely new corpus, and not simply addenda et corrigenda) was kept
secret, because Pauli was aware that it would cause troubles among Italian scholars,
especially after Lattes had announced a similar project of his own. In fact, the pub-
lication of the first fascicle in 1893 “seems at first to have caused consternation and
disappointment.”6 This and the subsequent fascicles were promptly and thoroughly
reviewed by Bartolomeo Nogara, Lattes’ pupil and fellow worker. After the comple-
tion of the first volume in 1902, Lattes himself published an entire book of corrigen-
da.7 Curiously enough, he failed to highlight the actual weakness of the first volume
of the CIE—that the authors had worked with little or no interaction with local archae-
ologists (professionals and amateurs alike), failed to make any research in public and
private archives and did not include a complete set of bibliographical references,
resulting in a disproportionate number of (supposedly) unprovenanced inscriptions,
especially from the area of Chiusi. This was a fault never repeated in later volumes.
Meanwhile, Danielsson was finally recognized as co-author by the late Pauli (d. 1901),
and had become the director of the project together with Gustav Herbig. Both of them
agreed to include Nogara as their co-worker.
In this same period, alongside the constant flow of new discoveries that system-
atically increased the number of known Etruscan inscriptions, a major new acquisi-
tion began to exercise its disrupting effects. In 1892, Jakob Krall recognised as Etrus-
can the text inscribed on the linen wrappings of a mummy preserved in the museum
of Zagreb—a text that contained a great number of words never attested elsewhere.
Although its overall interpretation as a ritual calendar was generally accepted almost
immediately after its discovery, a word-to-word translation appeared to be impossible
(as it is still today).8
4 In the dead end

The new editors of the CIE decided to modify the general structure of the work, follow-
ing the most recent developments in epigraphic studies. The main innovation was in
the distinction between tituli and instrumentum. Danielsson was in charge of the pars
prior of the new volumen alterum, comprising the tituli of areas of Etruria not included
in the first volume; Herbig received the general overview of a rather miscellaneous
pars posterior. This includes all Etruscan inscriptions from outside Etruria (compris-
ing ager Faliscus et Capenas), unprovenanced ones, instrumentum inscriptions from
6 Wikander and Wikander 2003, 22; 16–27 for the history of the main stages of the CIE, only briefly
summarized here. This work is useful, although sometimes disturbingly acrimonious, for the authors
seem to suggest something like a “plot” (by whom, is not clear) against recognizing Danielsson’s role.
7 See Lattes 1904.
8 About the liber linteus Zagrabiensis see now Belfiore 2010 (15–25, the story of its discovery).

100 Enrico Benelli
everywhere, and two indices (an index vocabulorum by Danielsson, and an index libro-
rum by Herbig). Nogara had to cooperate with both Danielsson and Herbig.9 Daniels-
son succeeded in publishing two fascicles (in 1907 and 1923), while Herbig published
two more, including one supplement devoted to the liber linteus Zagrabiensis, which
had not been included in the original plan. Herbig’s death in 1925 forced Danielsson
to find a new co-worker. Ernst Sittig helped in the completion of the third fascicle of
the pars prior, whose final publication Danielsson never saw.
In these same decades, the study of Etruscan language effectively reached, for the
first time, a dead end. The preceding generation had exploited all the possibilities of
the “combinatory” method. New discoveries could of course help to achieve further
developments, but it was at the same time painfully clear that the major new discov-
ery (the liber linteus) had created more problems than it had solved. Drawbacks of the
method became increasingly evident. In search of a translation, the most subjective
good sense supplied what evidence could not provide. Literature of the period until
the World War II is full of “translations” which are almost useless to the present-day
researcher.
The main focus of the research was to determine the position of Etruscan within
the general classification of languages—and if it was Indo-European or not? Many
of the proposed “translations” served to support one or another view, with a partial
reprisal of the “etymological” method. A violent dispute arose between supporters of
the different theories, with intermediate positions gradually emerging. One must not
forget that in those decades, the classification of languages had profound political
implications, and the dispute was not immune to ideological issues.
Completely outside this debate, and partially recognizing the futility of much of
it, stood Giulio Buonamici, who focused mainly on the epigraphic aspect of Etrus-
can inscriptions. His methods (like our own) owed more to the plain and rational
positivistic approach of the preceding generation, rather than to his contemporaries’
works.10 His thorough investigations of material aspects of inscriptions opened many
new fields of research, and in fact prompted a restart of Etruscan epigraphic studies
from the dead end they had reached. It is no accident that Søren Peter Cortsen’s and
Arthur Rosenberg’s works11 about Etruscan society and government—focused on his-
torical and epigraphical issues rather than on linguistic ones—were among the few
9 The new plan of the work is to be found on the inside front cover of fascicle II.1.1 (1907).
10 Buonamici called his monumental handbook Epigrafia etrusca (Buonamici 1932), avoiding any
reference to language in the title. In fact he stated: “L’epigrafia può fare a meno dell’ermeneutica,
ma, per l’Etrusco, l’ermeneutica non può fare a meno dell’epigrafia… La ricerca epigrafica… è il
primo gradino, l’ABC di ogni tentativo ermeneutico che seriamente si voglia intraprendere intorno
all’Etrusco” (Buonamici 1932, 427). This is undeniably true, but several decades needed to pass before
it reached widespread acceptance.
11 See Rosenberg 1913; Cortsen 1925.

from this period to be referred to continuously for many decades; linguistic studies
were on the contrary quickly forgotten.
5 A new beginning

In the years immediately preceding and following the World War II, something began
to move. It became increasingly clear that the quest for a translation had led to self-
referential works, and a new method was needed. Massimo Pallottino stressed the
need to merge linguistic and archaeological data in the process of interpretation of
Etruscan (Fig. 7.1). Linguists of the last generation (especially Emil Vetter) focused
on understanding the structure of the language, instead of wasting time in highly
speculative translations. This ultimately led to the introduction of the “bilinguistic”
method, theorized by Karl Olzscha. Every inscription should first be understood in its
cultural framework, with the help of similar inscriptions in other (understandable)
languages from areas culturally related to Etruria. The translations ought not to con-
flict with the cultural evidence, and have to suit the grammatical structure previously
identified.12
The dramatic increase of archaeological research in Italy from the 1950s onwards
brought to light a great number of new Etruscan inscriptions, most of them funer-
ary or proprietary ones. Knowledge of personal names consequently increased, and
it became possible to give many names specific geographical and chronological
coordinates. This led to a gradual definition of an Etruscan epigraphic research par-
tially independent from linguistic issues, and more interested in historical and social
topics. The reference book in this field of study was Helmut Rix’s Das etruskische
Cognomen (Fig. 7.1).13 In this same year, the then young scholar published a review
article about Etruscan language, in which clearly emerged his dissatisfaction for the
current methods. Further developments were left for times to follow.14
Meanwhile, the CIE project stalled. The last editor, Ernst Sittig, had little or no
interest in its continuation, and in 1940 an agreement had been signed, which con-
ferred to the Istituto di Studi Etruschi ed Italici (established at Florence in 1925, now
Istituto Nazionale di Studi Etruschi ed Italici) the task to realize the fourth fascicle
of CIE II,1. It is not clear why Danielsson’s extensive preliminary work was known
neither to Sittig, nor to Nogara, who was put in charge of this enterprise. In fact,
Danielsson’s sketches and notes reached Uppsala University unnoticed, and were
12 This phase of the research, as the immediately preceding one, is summarized especially by
Pallottino 1984, 412 ff., and Rix 1963b.
13 See Rix 1963a.
14 Rix 1963b.

102 Enrico Benelli
only published in 2003.15 The Istituto di Studi Etruschi promptly obtained a budget
from the Italian government to accomplish the task, and a lot of work was made before
the war disrupted the project.16 Nogara’s death in 1954 and the huge number of new
discoveries from the extensive excavations raised serious doubts about the actual
possibility to fulfill an ambitious plan like a corpus as it was intended. Also in 1954,
Pallottino published the first edition of his fortunate Testimonia linguae Etruscae, in
which he collected all known Etruscan inscriptions, including words other than per-
sonal names. In order to achieve an updated repertoire of all epigraphic evidence con-
sidered “useful” for the reconstruction of language, comprehensiveness was aban-
doned. This required managing hundreds of inscriptions rather than thousands, and
was considered more appropriate to the possibilities of an era during which research
was so intensive that a corpus could become outdated even before its publication.
6 From the Pyrgi tablets to the present day

The discovery of the Pyrgi gold tablets in 1964 arrived exactly when the study of
Etruscan language was ready for new developments. During the 1960s, Olzscha’s
“bilinguistic” method, mostly shared by Pallottino, gradually developed into a more
systematic research about Etruscan grammar. The clear distinction between almost
certain, reasonably possible, and hypothetical translations was an important meth-
odological achievement by Pallottino. Only the former can be employed for further
developments; those in the second group require additional care. Mere hypotheses are
all but useless outside of the specific context for which they have been guessed (and
to some extent even within it). If it is not possible to understand an inscription com-
pletely, it is better to attempt to define the grammatical role of unknown words, and
eventually the semantic field within which their significance should be, if they mean
something about, for instance, the parts of a tomb, or of a temple building, or some
rite, and so on. At the same time, others focused on archaeological and epigraphic
issues, whose study had been greatly encouraged by the massive flow of new discov-
eries. The proper places for such developments were especially the entries of the REE,
gradually recognized as an update of the CIE. This field of study, more properly called
“Etruscan epigraphy,” immediately appeared to offer many more possibilities than
language itself. This is why Mauro Cristofani, the author of a book entirely devoted
to such topics,17 was entrusted with the edition of the REE from 1966 on (which he
held until his death in 1997), and the completion of the CIE volume II,1, 4, abandoned
15 Wikander and Wikander 2003.

16 Reports are published in Studi Etruschi 14, 1940, 451–53; 15, 1941, 401; 17, 1943, 556–57.
17 See Cristofani 1965.

twenty years earlier. This enterprise required the financial and logistical cooperation
of the Consiglio Nazionale delle Ricerche (CNR), which was the publisher of the CIE
when it finally appeared in 1970. Meanwhile, a revised edition of Pallottino’s Testimo-
nia (1968) had appeared, and new discoveries contributed to open entirely new fields
to epigraphic research, which gradually became much more fertile than had been
thought possible.18
Etruscan epigraphy as we understand it now is born between 1968 and 1970. A
series of conferences and various papers, especially by Giovanni Colonna, Mauro
Cristofani, Carlo de Simone and Helmut Rix, gradually defined methods and targets
of an entirely new discipline, which accomplished to some degree Buonamici’s forty-
year-old statement. Instead of attempting to obtain new (highly hypothetical, and
almost useless) translations of untranslatable words, scholars began to employ what
we do understand in Etruscan inscriptions to reconstruct social and political histories
of Etruscan cities.19
The turning point finally came in 1978. Pallottino had decided to resume Lattes’
attempts to index all known Etruscan words (like the index that was expected to be
included at the end of the CIE per Danielsson’s and Herbig’s intentions, even though
completion of the CIE in 1978 appeared unattainable in a short term, in the lifetime
of the authors). Pallottino planned an entirely new work, called a Thesaurus Linguae
Etruscae (ThLE); the immense card catalog, which was necessary to fulfill the task,
was realized again thanks to the financial and logistical cooperation of the CNR, and
filled three huge filing cabinets. The publication of the ThLE (which was to receive
three supplements, before being completely renewed as a second edition in 2009)
had far-reaching consequences. For the first time, all known evidence of Etruscan
language was collected in a single volume, making it possible to study it without the
need to waste a lot of time looking for inscriptions. Not surprisingly, the following
decade saw the most important developments in the understanding of Etruscan,
especially thanks to Rix, who focused primarily on the reconstruction of grammar.
Some of his achievements—the recognition of the plural suffixes, the complete map of
enclitic pronouns, and the discovery of the definite article—have completely changed
our knowledge of Etruscan language. His method has been widely accepted by other
scholars, who have contributed to further developments (among them, see Luciano
Agostiniani’s works on negative particles and on numbers). The new achievements,
which made the complete and reliable understanding of most of the inscriptions pos-
sible, also propelled the study of Etruscan epigraphy, in what had gradually become
a “trademark” of Italian etruscology, from Gamurrini, through Buonamici, to Cristo-
fani, Colonna, and Adriano Maggiani and an entire generation of scholars employing
18 Developments of this period are especially summarized in Olzscha 1969; 1970; Pallottino 1969.
19 Literature about this period is not quoted here, because it largely coincides with what is referred
to in chapter 17.

104 Enrico Benelli
the massive epigraphic evidence to reconstruct Etruscan history, society, religion, and
political organization.
The CIE project has continued under Pallottino’s inspiration, with the Istituto
Nazionale di Studi Etruschi ed Italici becoming the effective publisher. It enjoys a
large cooperation with the CNR, especially on the part of Maristella Pandolfini, who
realized the first three fascicles of a newly-introduced volume III, devoted to instru-
mentum inscriptions, which new discoveries had made too abundant to be accom-
modated into a single fascicle, as Herbig had hoped in 1907. In 1995, the care of the
enterprise was transferred to the CNR. The new editor, Mauro Cristofani, published
only one fascicle (II,2,2) before his untimely death transferred the responsibility to
Maristella Pandolfini, who was joined by the author of the present chapter in 2003.
Another two fascicles have been published since then, and four more are in progress.
Meanwhile, directed by Helmut Rix, the ET appeared in 1991. This “abridged”
corpus has been extremely useful, although the criteria Rix chose make it extremely
dangerous for people without really strong knowledge of Etruscan epigraphy. The
assumptions that “Etruscan” is “what is included in the ET,” and that Etruscan
inscriptions are actually always as Rix (and his fellow workers) read them, have mis-
guided even skilled scholars. The 1991 edition is now outdated, and a new one is
expected by Rix’s academic heir Gerhard Meiser.20
7 Challenges for the future

The study of Etruscan grammar, as developed by Rix and widely accepted in present-
day scholarship, seems to have exhausted all possibilities offered by the evidence.
This is also true for the research of a “translation” for Etruscan words, which descends
from a correct comprehension of the grammatical structures of the lexical contexts in
which any word is attested. Most proposals for new translations are highly hypotheti-
cal, and cannot be confidently used in further developments. To put it more plainly, if
several translations for the same word are theoretically possible, there is no compel-
ling reason to accept one or another of them, and any series of deductions based on
one of these translations gets dangerously close to inconsistency. Even if some minor
acquisition of translations, for instance, or facts of grammar is always possible, dra-
matic developments in these fields require new discoveries.
This is not to imply that the study of Etruscan epigraphy and language has again
reached a dead end. Many other topics remain to be investigated. For instance, the
process of the formation of family names, fifty years after Rix’s groundbreaking study,
20 An online update of the ET has been attempted (the Etruscan Texts Project), but the website was
shut down after some years. The second edition has been published in 2014 (ET2).

needs to be thoroughly re-examined, especially because the last half century has wit-
nessed a dramatic increase in evidence of personal names, especially for the Archaic
period. A recent paper by de Simone 21 about the wide diffusion of phenomena of
falsche Abtrennung in suffixes of Etruscan family names—which is an entirely new
perspective for the reconstruction of onomastic families—is a good example of what
research can still achieve. Epigraphy in its broader sense, including archaeological,
historical and sociological issues, is far from having exhausted all possible develop-
ments.
The fiercest debate in present-day Etruscan epigraphy concerns methodologies
of realization of epigraphic corpora. The traditional CIE (whose standard is followed
by the REE and the ThLE), as we have seen, has been joined in 1991 by the innova-
tive ET. This has led to a methodological dispute clearly beyond the purposes of their
authors, who intended their work only as an easy-to-use repertoire of all known Etrus-
can inscriptions. The work does not imply the uselessness of all preceding editions,
especially as regards the archaeological data related to inscribed items, which the ET
contain only in a drastically abridged form.
One of the two main issues concerns the transcriptions of Etruscan sibilants. The
traditional system is a plain transliteration of Etruscan graphemes. The new method
first employed in the ET implies a phonetic interpretation; the “plain” sibilant is tran-
scribed s, and the “marked” (maybe palatal) sibilant is transcribed σ, with diacritics
showing the grapheme actually used. This system raises some questions. Interpre-
tive transcriptions require reliable knowledge of the phonemic value of each graph-
eme, which is not the case with Etruscan. The basic scheme (south Etruscan <s>=/s/;
<ś>=/σ/ vs. north Etruscan <s>=/σ/; <ś>=/s/) does not work with enough regularity to
support a phonemic interpretation of all Etruscan words, only of most of them. There
are some cases that escape any interpretation. This is especially true for some archaic
inscriptions from Caere, Veii, and neighboring areas, where a graphic differentiation
between the two sibilants appeared strikingly late. How to interpret, for example, the
fragmentary inscription from Rome CIE 8601 (ET La 2.2), uqnus̓[? If we assume the
ending is complete, and thus the word is—as it seems—a personal name inflected
in the genitive case, the sibilant will be /s/; but we cannot be sure. It is equally pos-
sible that it was, for example, uqnus̓[a], consequently interpreting the sibilant as /σ/.
Moreover, personal names ending in <s> retain this same sibilant grapheme in north-
ern as well as in southern Etruria. How can we interpret them? With good reason, Rix
supposed that these personal names always ended in /s/, and that the (anomalous)
northern spelling was a consequence of southern influence.22 Agostiniani, on the
other hand, with equally good reason, holds that this ending should be interpreted as
/s/ in the south, and as /σ/ in the north, thus reflecting dialectal differences between
21 See de Simone 2010.

22 Rix 1983.

106 Enrico Benelli
the two areas.23 Other personal names, like sentinate and the śatna/satna series, raise
similar questions.
The main argument supporting the interpretive transcription of Etruscan sibi-
lants (northern and southern spellings of the same words are easier to find in a word
index) seems to disguise an ideological crusade against traditional corpora. This is
because, for instance, nobody thought to suggest a similar method to transcribe the
voiceless velar /k/, represented by as many as three different graphemes (their pho-
netic interpretation, at least, is certain). Ideological crusades are worthless in the sci-
entific debate. The necessary conditions for an interpretive transcription of Etruscan
sibilants (a reliable interpretation of all—or nearly all—sibilant graphemes in Etrus-
can inscriptions) are still lacking.
Another issue put forward by the edition of the ET is how much information
should be included in each entry. The CIE volumes (and the REE, working theoreti-
cally as its update) require a comprehensive gathering of all data available and thor-
ough updates (for example, about the archaeological context, or about chronology,
especially if previous publications are heavily outdated). Moreover, an apograph
is always required, with the obvious exception of lost inscriptions recorded only in
typographic transcription. Collecting so much information requires a large amount
of work, including archive and bibliographical research, autoptic documentation in
museums and collections, and so on. As a result, each volume needs many years to
be completed, and the CIE (like all great corpora) is likely to be always incomplete or
at least partially outdated. At present, five fascicles are still lacking, and about three
quarters of what has been published requires substantial updating. The ET—which
the authors conveniently called an editio minor—only include some basic information
about the texts, and no apograph at all, making it impossible to handle palaeographi-
cal issues or evaluate how much of any suggested reading relies on the interpretation
of the authors rather than on the material evidence. This enables the authors to realize
an almost complete collection of all known Etruscan inscriptions in a reasonable time
span. But such a collection can be confidently used only by scholars with very good
knowledge of Etruscan epigraphy—in its archaeological and linguistic aspects—who
are thus able to find all lacking data by themselves. In fact, any study making use
of Etruscan epigraphic evidence should imply that its author knows as deeply as
possible all aspects of every inscription referred to. It would be highly unsafe, for
example, to draw conclusions employing a single text that ultimately would reveal
itself, for example, only as an interpretation of a somehow confused seventeenth-
century sketch, no matter the authority of the scholar who proposed it. The simple
entry of ET Cl 2.8, which informs the reader that the inscription is on a “vase,” con-
23 Agostiniani 2003. In ET2 Meiser has abandoned Rix’s reconstruction and has converted to
Agostiniani’s one; he has also introduced a new system of interpretive transcription, which does not
solve the ground issues raised by Rix’s one.

ceals the fact that the vase itself contained the cremated remains of an individual, and
that the inscription can be interpreted as a funerary as well as a proprietary one—the
difference matters. The only advantage the ET offer in comparison to the plain word
index of the ThLE is that all texts appear in full. In both cases, users have to check all
archaeological and epigraphic data of every single inscription they need to refer to.
References
Agostiniani, L. 2003. “Etrusco lauχumes tra lessico e onomastica.” In Linguistica è storia. Scritti in
onore di Carlo de Simone, edited by S. Marchesini, 21–32. Pisa: Giardini.
Belfiore, V. 2010. Il liber linteus di Zagabria. Testualità e contenuto. Pisa, Rome: Serra
Buonamici, G. 1932. Epigrafia etrusca. Florence: Rinascimento del Libro.
CIE Corpus Inscriptionum Etruscarum.
CII Corpus Inscriptionum Italicarum.
Corssen, W. 1874. Ueber die Sprache der Etrusker, I. Leipzig: Teubner.
Cortsen, S.P. 1925. Die etruskischen Standes- und Beamtentitel, durch die Inschriften beleuchtet.
København: Høst & Son.
Cristofani, M. 1965. La tomba delle Iscrizioni di Cerveteri. Florence: Sansoni.
Deecke, W. 1875. Corssen und die Sprache der Etrusker. Eine Kritik. Stuttgart: Heitz.
de Simone C. 2010. “Etrusco arcaico (Caere [?], VII sec. a.C.) Numasia(na), prenestino Numasio-:
chiuso ormai un annoso dibattito.” Oebalus 5: 7–51.
ET Etruskische Texte. Editio minor, edited by H. Rix. Tübingen: Narr.
ET2 Etruskische Texte. Editio minor, edited by G. Meiser. Hamburg: Baar-Verlag.
Lambrechts, R. 1963. “Un faux étrusque sur le Poggio di Firenze.” Latomus 22: 3–13.
Lattes, E. 1904. Correzioni, giunte e postille al Corpus Inscriptionum Etruscarum. Florence: Seeber.
Müller, C.O. 1828. Die Etrusker. Breslau: Max & Komp.
Müller C.O. and W. Deecke 1877. C.O. Müller, Die Etrusker. Neu bearbeitet von W. Deecke. Stuttgart:
Heitz.
Olzscha, K. 1969. “Etruskischer Literaturbericht.” Glotta 47: 279–323.
–. 1970. “Etruskischer Literaturbericht.” Glotta 48: 260–94.
Pallottino, M. 1969. “L’ermeneutica etrusca fra due documenti chiave.” StEtr 37: 79–91.
–. 1984. Etruscologia. Milan: Hoepli, seventh edition.
REE Rivista di Epigrafia Etrusca (in StEtr).
Rix, H. 1963a. Das etruskische Cognomen. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz.
–. 1963b. “Etruskisch (seit 1951).” Kratylos 8: 113–58.
–. 1983. “Norme e variazioni nell’ortografia etrusca.” AIΩN 5: 127–40.
Rosenberg, A. 1913. Der Staat der alten Italiker. Berlin: Weidman.
ThLE Thesaurus Linguae Etruscae I. Indice lessicale, 1978. Rome: CNR. 2009, second edition. Pisa,
Rome: Serra.
Wikander, C., and Ö. Wikander. 2003. Etruscan inscriptions from the collections of Olof August
Danielsson. Stockholm: Medelhavsmuseet.

Philip Perkins
8 DNA and Etruscan identity
Abstract: From the time of Herodotus, who suggested that the Etruscans were immigrants to Italy,
to the present day, the origin of the Etruscans has been debated. Since the mid-twentieth century a
convincing academic consensus has been built that the Etruscans were an autochthonous people.
The development of molecular archaeology, investigating ancient biological molecules, particularly
DNA, has brought new evidence to the debate. This area is still developing and many of its findings
are experimental or provisional.
Keywords: Etruscan origin; DNA; molecular archaeology
Introduction
From the time of Herodotus—who suggested that the Etruscans were immigrants to
Italy—to the present day, the origin of the Etruscans has been debated.1 Since the mid-
twentieth century a convincing academic consensus has been built that the Etruscans
were an autochthonous people. The development of molecular archaeology, investi-
gating ancient biological molecules, particularly DNA, has brought new evidence to
the debate.2 This area is still developing and many of its findings are experimental or
provisional.3
1 The search for Etruscan DNA

A fundamental feature of gene distribution in Europe is a gradient of variability from
high diversity in the southwest of Asia toward lower diversity in the northwest of
Europe.4 This gradient is thought to derive from the Neolithic colonization of Europe
after the last Ice Age when much of Europe was depopulated.5 The variability in the
mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA) in modern samples from southern Tuscany lies between
1 See chapter 2 Ulf.

2 MacIntosh Turfa 2006; Perkins 2009; Kron 2013.
3 Richards, Macaulay, Bandelt, et al. 1998; Jones 2001; 2006; Richards and Macaulay 2001; Hummel
2003; Jobling, Hurles, and Tyler-Smith 2004; Barbujani 2007; Graham 2007. For a general introduction
to the science see Jobling, Hurles, and Tyler-Smith 2004 and for more detail Crawford 2007.
4 E.g. Belle, Landry, and Barbujani 2006; Rosser, Zerjai, Hurles, et al. 2000; Simoni, Calafell, Pettener,
et al. 2000.
5 Ammerman and Cavalli-Sforza 1984.
110 Philip Perkins
these extremes.6 Assuming some degree of continuity between the modern Tuscan
and Etruscan population,7 this observation suggests that the Etruscan population
was descended from the Neolithic population, which would be consistent with the
hypothesis that the Etruscan language is a relic of pre-Indo-European times and
with the current archaeological consensus of an autochthonous origin. Subsequent
research has sought to identify genetic material distinct from this generalized Neo-
lithic “background” that might be related to a distinct Etruscan ethnicity, whether
autochthonous or immigrant. A further challenge for studies using contemporary
genetic variability is that it is associated with contemporary linguistic and geographic
variability and the distribution of recent social groups.8 This means that contempo-
rary samples from Tuscany will have patterns of variability generated by their geo-
graphic, linguistic, and social origins and contacts, irrespective of any relationship to
an ancient Etruscan ancestry.
Since about 2000, the study of population genetics has made significant advances
in its methodology, particularly in the adoption of statistical techniques to interpret
laboratory findings, the development of computer simulation techniques to model
population histories, the extraction and analysis of ancient DNA, and the develop-
ment of techniques that can analyze sections of the genome that are larger than the
single molecules that were the focus of earlier studies.9
The first major investigation of the Etruscans analyzed eighty samples of bone
from ten cemeteries in Etruria along with samples from Adria in the Po Valley and
Capua in Campania.10 The investigation sought to answer two questions. (1) Were the
Etruscans a biological population or just people who shared a culture but not ances-
try? And (2) what is their relationship to modern populations and are they linked to
other Eurasians?11 The first question is interesting because it directly addresses a
basic assumption: that the Etruscans were a people. This assumption is rarely ques-
tioned in Etruscology; after all, the Roman sources identify the Etruscans (the nomen
Etruscum) as a group, even if they are then subdivided into the duodecim populi Etru-
riae (twelve peoples of Etruria).12 The research group led by Vernesi found that the
internal genetic diversity in the Etruscan DNA was low, comparable to that in modern
European populations, and not distinct, meaning there is no clear Etruscan “genetic
6 Francalacci, Bertranpetit, Calafell, et al. 1996; Francalacci 1997.

7 Guimaraes et al. 2009 have found relationships between medieval and modern Tuscan DNA, but
not Etruscan and modern. Ghirotto et al. 2013 have suggested continuity between ancient Etruscan
DNA and modern Tuscan DNA from Volterra and the Casentino, but not with DNA from Murlo.
8 Piazza, Cappello, Olivetti, et al. 1988; Barbujani and Sokal 1991; Novembre et al. 2008.
9 Barbujani and Bertorrelle 2001; Excoffier 2004; Jobling, Hurles, and Tyler-Smith 2004; Bandelt
2005; Thomas, Gilbert, Bandelt, et al. 2005; Richards and Macaulay 2001.
10 Vernesi, Caramelli, Dupanloup, et al. 2004.
11 Vernesi, Caramelli, Dupanloup, et al. 2004, 695.
12 Torelli 1985; Colonna 2000; Perkins 2005, 110.

8 DNA and Etruscan identity 111
fingerprint” that could be detected. The research also suggested that the Etruscan
samples had a shared set of ancestors,13 and this is consistent with the existence of the
gentilicial system of family structure based on blood lines that is directly observable
in Etruscan personal names and in the sharing of family chamber tombs over several
generations that became widespread from the Late Orientalizing period onward.
Genetic relationships between individuals from the same chamber tomb have also
been demonstrated using mtDNA evidence at Tarquinia.14 At a more general level,
the findings are consistent with Etruscan autochthony, since cultural and settlement
continuity from the Late Bronze Age to the Etruscan period would generate a shared
ancestry extending over at least ten generations.
2 Etruscans and modern DNA

The second question, posed by Vernesi and colleagues, of the relationship between the
genetic diversity in the ancient DNA from Etruria and the genetic diversity observed
in modern populations, aimed to investigate any genealogical or emigrational links
between the Etruscans and other Eurasian populations. The results were not decisive:
the samples were found to have less genetic resemblance to modern Tuscans than
there is resemblance between randomly chosen modern European populations.15
Analyses of the shortest genetic difference between the (Etruscan) samples and
modern populations found them closest to Tuscans, with Turks, other Mediterranean
peoples, and the Cornish (from the southwest of England) following. Assessment of
the mix of genetic material in the samples (admixture coefficient)16 suggested that
Etruscans are more closely related to Turks and North Africans than to Basques and
northeast Europeans, and that the samples were more likely to have components of
Turkish or North African DNA than samples from Tuscans, southern Italians, or Sicil-
ians. The conclusion drawn was that the findings support an autochthonous origin
for the Etruscans, inasmuch as their DNA is similar to that of other Europeans, but
without excluding some component of female-derived DNA originating in the eastern
or southern Mediterranean. This study was subsequently criticized for technical and
methodological reasons, including the origin of the samples in old, possibly contami-
nated museum collections;17 however, this need not invalidate tentative conclusions

14 Cappellini, Biella, Chiarelli, et al. 2004; Cappellini, Chiarelli, Sineo, et al. 2004.
16 Dupanloup and Bertorelle 2001.
17 Bandelt 2004; Malyarchuk and Rogozin 2004; Bandelt 2005; Thomas, Gilbert, Bandelt, et al. 2005.

112 Philip Perkins
despite the hazards involved in being certain that the DNA identified is authentically
ancient.18
The tentative observation that Tuscans have the shortest genetic distance from
the Etruscan ancient DNA (aDNA) has been further investigated by attempts to simu-
late population histories that could have led to the degree of relatedness between
Etruscans and Tuscans that was observed by Vernesi’s group.19 This work concluded
that the Tuscans are largely descended from non-Etruscan ancestors.20 Projecting the
simulations backward in time suggests that the genetic lines of the Etruscan samples
emerged in the early Neolithic ca. 5500–4000 BCE (coalescence), a hypothesis con-
sistent with an unbroken sequence of cultural development.21
Contrary to these studies, principal component analysis comparing 322 samples
of modern Tuscan DNA with samples from other parts of western Eurasia found that
Tuscan mtDNA has many affinities with European DNA but samples from Murlo had a
higher proportion of haplogroups that are commonly found in the Near East.22 Eleven
haplotypes in the Tuscan samples were not found in 10,589 samples from Europe,
including Italy, but were found in samples from Near Eastern populations spread
from the Levant through Jordan, Mesopotamia, Iran, and the Caucasus, with one in
Turkey. The findings indicate post-Neolithic, genetic input from the Near East to the
present-day population of Tuscany.23
A subsequent, more detailed study of 258 samples from Tuscany has identified
that approximately three percent of these contain typical Near Eastern haplogroups,
significantly reducing the proportion estimated by Achilli and colleagues in 2007.24
Other studies have also identified a link between modern Tuscan and Anatolian DNA
but suggested that the two populations divided at least as far back as the Neolithic
Period.25
An alternative approach to identifying intrusive populations is to identify a
restricted geographic distribution of a gene mutation and then attempt to chronologi-
cally reconstruct the history of the mutation of that gene to provide a date for the first
occurrence of that mutation. In Tuscany, nine of fifty-three samples from Elba con-
tained a distinct mutation (U7a2a subsequently renamed U7b1) of a haplotype most
commonly found in southwest Asia, with a distribution centered in Iran.26 The occur-
rence of this mutation has been tentatively dated to 750 BCE–950 CE, which could
18 Barbujani, Vemesi, Caramelli, et al. 2004

19 Belle, Ramakrishnan, Mountain, et al. 2006.
20 Belle, Ramakrishnan, Mountain, et al. 2006.
21 Pallottino 1984, 35–75; Malone 2003.
22 Achilli, Olivetti, Pala, et al. 2007, 762, fig. 1.3.
23 Achilli, Olivetti, Pala, et al. 2007, 766–67, fig. 5.
24 Cf. n. 22. Brisighelli, Capelli, Álvarez-Iglesias, et al. 2009.
25 Ghirotto et al. 2013; Tassi 2013.
26 Brisighelli, Capelli, Álvarez-Iglesias, et al. 2009.

indicate the arrival of a Near Eastern immigrant carrying the mutation in the Etruscan
period. However, the date range is wide and many other historical scenarios could
easily account for the presence of this material in Italy.
Yet more recent work, using genome-wide, rather than maternal mtDNA, has
identified a component of near eastern DNA in Tuscan samples, estimating that
the genetic material mixed into the pool between 600–1100 BCE. Once again, as the
authors note, these are estimates and various historical circumstances may have led
to the formation of the observed dataset. Likewise, from an archaeological point of
view, eastern genetic material in Italy is not to be unexpected in that period, and does
not do anything to prove migration from Anatolia to Etruria. One new element of the
study is the identification as the Caucasus as the area with the most closely related
DNA to Tuscany, as an ancestral location this would seem, on the face of it, to be his-
torically unlikely.27
3 Italian cattle DNA

A study of DNA from eleven rare breeds of Italian cattle identified Near Eastern
haplotypes in Tuscan breeds,28 and this led to a hypothesis that the cattle arrived
in Tuscany with Etruscan settlers in the Late Bronze Age. Earlier studies of cattle
DNA also detected genetic variation in European cattle that can be associated with
southwest Asia, where Bos taurus was originally domesticated. Those studies also
identify the highest levels of alleles associated with Bos indicus (zebu) in Italian
cattle and relatively high levels of them in Greek cattle, and these are said to derive
from cultural associations between Anatolia, Greece, and Italy over the past three
millennia.29
A more comprehensive study concluded that the cattle originating in the Neo-
lithic in the Near East also have mtDNA deriving from North African cattle and wild
aurochsen; it presents a circum-Mediterranean distribution of cattle DNA illustrating
that the African (T1) and Near Eastern (T and T2) haplotypes are found around most of
the northern shores of the Mediterranean, making the Tuscan cattle less of a special
case that could be associated with a hypothetical migration of (Etruscan) people from
the Near East.30
27 Pardo-Seco, Gómez-Carballa, Amigo, et al. 2014.

28 Pellecchia, Negrini, Colli, et al. 2007.
29 Cymbron, Freeman, Malheiro, et al. 2005.
30 Beja-Pereira, Caramelli, Lalueza-Fox, et al. 2006.

114 Philip Perkins
4 Conclusions
Given the Neolithic colonization of Europe, it is to be expected that Tuscan, or indeed
Etruscan, DNA should contain haplotypes characteristic of southwest Asia. The
Tuscans or Etruscans occupy a position on the clines of various distributions of hap-
lotypes, just like any other European population. There have not yet been enough
studies to reliably distinguish a Tuscan combination of haplotypes as distinct from
other combinations in Italy, even if it is now possible to separate northern Italian
samples from Bergamo from Tuscan samples.31 Even if the arrival of southwest Asian
haplotypes could be dated to ca. 2,800 years ago, this would not confirm that the
Etruscans were immigrants, because we already know that people moved around
the first-millennium Mediterranean, either as immigrants or as groups of Greek or
Phoenician colonists. Traditional archaeological techniques find it challenging to
convincingly identify intrusive alien individuals, but ethnic diversity is indicated by
the presence of foreigners, particularly Sardinians, in cemeteries in Etruria from the
tenth–ninth centuries onward,32 and there is plentiful evidence for cultural and eco-
nomic exchange in the subsequent Orientalizing period33 that has led to the sugges-
tion of Near Easterners in the elite of Etruria34 and provides a plausible context for
genetic exchange to occur. Mythistorical accounts, new artistic styles or uses of mate-
rials, and personal names occasionally suggest the movements of people35 and also
occasionally suggest a non-Etruscan origin of individuals, who are usually assumed
to be males. The mtDNA evidence indicates there was also immigration of childbear-
ing females across the Mediterranean, possibly in the Etruscan period.
None of the DNA studies to date conclusively prove that Etruscans were an intru-
sive population in Italy that originated in the Eastern Mediterranean or Anatolia.
Likewise, none conclusively prove that Tuscans are descended from Etruscans. On
balance, there are indications that the evidence of DNA can support the theory that
Etruscan people are autochthonous in central Italy. The absence of decisive results
derives from the fundamental fact that archaeological ethnicities do not neatly map
onto patterns in genetic diversity. Studies of modern genetic variation mapped with
socio-cultural categories can demonstrate correlation between the two,36 but the
time-depth of the archaeological perspective creates complex layering in genetic
diversity as population dynamics change, populations relocate and intermingle over
31 Li, Absher, Tang, et al. 2008, fig 2a.

32 Camporeale 1997, 48–49; Bartoloni 1988, 48–49.
33 Cristofani 1996; Giangiulio 1996, 518–25.
34 Magness 2001; Novembre et al. 2008.
35 Pallottino 1971, 83–84; Ampolo 1976–77; Ridgway 1992; Colonna 1989, 21; Cristofani 1996; Winter
2009.
36 Novembre et al. 2008.

time.37 The genetic diversity of the ancient people we identify as Etruscans, will have
been a complex mix of genetic material deriving from western European, south west
Asia and neighboring areas. Unraveling that mix, and relating it to the socio-cultural
development of archaeological societies is an exciting challenge for both archaeoge-
neticists and archaeologists.
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II. Issues
Politic and society

9 Political organization and magistrates
Abstract: In the last few decades of the eighth century BCE and even more so in the first few decades
of the seventh, the role of the Etruscan elites grew further, part of an overall process of social restruc-
turing along aristocratic lines linked to the urbanization already in progress. Archaeologically, the
allusions to the “princely” status of the most eminent members of the Etruscan elites of the Oriental-
izing period are consistent with the information provided by the literary sources, which describe Etru-
ria’s most ancient historical phase as monarchical. The reconstruction of Etruscan political structures
and organization in the seventh to sixth centuries BCE should, in the first instance, be conducted with
reference to the individual local contexts: Etruscan cities were autonomous political entities whose
authority extended to the surrounding area (city-states). In the current historical interpretation, the
period from the last decades of the sixth to the first decades of the fifth represents a long phase of
transition, by the end of which the Etruscan cities (or at least most of them) had abandoned monar-
chical regimes in favor of some form of republican order. The archaeological evidence (above all,
the Etruscan inscriptions of the fourth to the second centuries BCE) enables us to reconstruct some
aspects of the magisterial system in force in the Etruscan settlements of the time. Etruscan literary and
epigraphical sources also make mention of the existence of a (con)federal-organism encompassing
the twelve populi of Etruria.
Keywords: Kings, magistrates, city
Introduction
For the most ancient phases of Etruscan history, our knowledge of the forms of politi-
cal organization adopted by the individual communities is essentially based on data
derived from archaeological evidence, especially from funerary contexts. It is only in
the late seventh century BCE that Etruscan inscriptions begin to yield data of insti-
tutional interest. The few indications in the literary sources of the political structure
and organization of Etruscan towns in the seventh to sixth centuries, especially con-
cerning the existence of monarchical regimes, are generally of the annalistic type,
and as such their reliability needs to be carefully assessed. Indeed, it is important to
consider the difficulties experienced by the ancient authors in verifying and describ-
ing the events of the past solely on the basis of annalistic data, together with the
considerable period of time separating the facts from their annotation in the primary
sources. The composite and often artificial character (especially regarding the earliest
phases) of the ancient historiographical reconstruction would not, however, seem to
invalidate the basic historicity of the data on which it is founded. This would seem
to be confirmed by what is known of the Etruscan world through other channels (i.e.
archaeological evidence).
However, the difficulty in reconstructing the most ancient phases of Etruscan
political organization does not stem solely from a problem of documentation. It
122 Gianluca Tagliamonte
should also be borne in mind that the “political” dimension, as it is commonly per-
ceived today, only began to emerge in the Etruscan world in its autonomous, fully
fledged “institutional” form when the seventh century was well under way. The earli-
est archaeological evidence of this development, especially epigraphical data, dates
from this period. Associated with processes of urbanization and the acquisition of lit-
eracy, it is seen throughout the various regions of Etruria. The case of Tarquinii (Civita
di Tarquinia), with its associated problems of interpretation,1 clearly illustrates the
difficulties inherent in describing situations where the various structural components
(be they “political,” “religious,” “economic,” etc.) of a social system appear to be
closely intertwined. These difficulties appear even more evident if one considers that
the local social system of Tarquinii has one of the highest degrees of structural and
functional differentiation of all the Etruscan towns.
The reconstruction of Etruscan political structures and organization should be
conducted with reference to the individual local contexts: Etruscan cities were auton-
omous political entities whose authority extended no farther than the surrounding
area; they may be compared to the Greek city-states (Gk. poleis)2. The distinctive form
of political organization in the Etruscan world was the city-state, and each commu-
nity had its own institutional development.
One factor they had in common, highlighting the alliances between them and
their ethnic solidarity, is the existence, cited in the literary sources, of a federal organ-
ism encompassing the entire nomen Etruscum: ancient tradition portrays this as an
Etruscan League (see below, section 4).
1 Orientalizing and Archaic Periods
1.1 A “princely” society
In the course of the eighth century, the process of “socio-political” development

within the Villanovan communities3 seems to have generated significant and stable
forms of socio-economic differentiation. These no longer affected individuals only
but were extended to the other members of the family unit, depending on their degree
of integration, based in turn on their family background. In other words, heredity of
1 These difficulties are reflected on the lexical level, by the variety of terms used to refer to the
monumental building phase of the seventh century: “sacred area,” “monumental complex,”
“complex,” “sacred-institutional complex”: Bonghi Jovino and Chiaramonte Treré 1997, 218; Bonghi
Jovino 2001, 21–29. See Rathje 2006, esp. 104.
2 On the Etruscan city and its comparison to the Greek and Roman city see d’Agostino 1998; Piel 2002;
Aigner Foresti, Siewert 2006.
3 See chapter 33 Pacciarelli.

9 Political organization and magistrates 123
rank seems to have become an established principle. This is most evident in those
areas (southern Etruria and Po valley Etruria) where proto-urban formation processes
were most advanced and the local communities were more cohesive. The “socio-polit-
ical” organization of those communities, whose leaders were members of the local
elites, thus followed models which the social sciences (particularly anthropology)
have described, in neo-evolutionist terms, as pre-state (chiefdom) or proto-state (early
state) entities.4
In the last few decades of the eighth century and even more so in the first few
decades of the seventh, corresponding to the most ancient phase of the Orientalizing
period, the role of the local elites grew further, part of an overall process of social
restructuring along aristocratic lines linked to the urbanization already in progress.
The exponents of these dominant social groups, whose power and privileges were
founded on the possession of land, goods, and the means of production, seem to have
gradually taken on the role of principes. Archaeologically, this is shown above all by
the richness of their grave goods, among which were large quantities of luxury and
prestige items including imported products. The exhibition of their wealth and power
frequently made use of forms and symbols taken from oriental and Homeric royal
models.5
1.2 Kings of Etruria
These clear allusions to the “princely” status of the most eminent members of the
Etruscan elites of the Orientalizing period are consistent with the information pro-
vided by the literary sources, which describe Etruria’s most ancient historical phase
as monarchical. As well as with Rome, the monarchical traditions are associated
most closely with the cities of southern Etruria. Monarchical forms (if they may fairly
be considered such) seem to have been particularly strong in Veii, a city for which
the ancient authors provide the names of a whole series of kings with mythological
characteristics. Vibe is said to have had dealings with Amulius, mythical king of Alba
Longa (Festus Gloss. Lat. 334); Thebris is the namesake of the Tiber River (Varro Ling.
5.30); Propertius is said to have sent a group of young colonists from Veii to found
Capena (Serv. ad Aen. 7.697); and Morrius is said to have founded the priesthood of
the Salii (Serv. ad Aen. 8.285). Of undisputed historical authenticity is the figure of
Lars Tolumnius,6 explicitly referred to as basileus/rex of Veii,7 whose noble lineage, in
4 See, e.g., Guidi 1998; Sestieri 2010, 224.

5 See chapter 19 Naso. See Colonna 2000a: Menichetti 2000; Naso 2000; Sassatelli 2000; Colonna
2001.
6 Livy 4.17–20; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 12.5.1 ff., etc.
7 Livy 4.17.1, 3; 4.19.2, 5; 4.20.2; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 12.5.1; cf. Dio. Cass. 44.4.3; 51.24.4.

its Etruscan form (Tulumnes), is seen in Etruscan inscriptions of the seventh to sixth
centuries discovered in Veii.8 Recognizable in battle by his clothing (regio habitu;
Livy 4.19.2), the king is said to have been killed by the Roman military tribune Aulus
Cornelius Cossus in 437, who dedicated his remains (spolia opima) to the temple of
Jupiter Feretrius on the Capitoline Hill (Livy 4.20.1 ff.). It was only after the death of
Lars Tolumnius that the people of Veii adopted a republican form of government,
which, was abandoned shortly afterward in 404 (or 403), if Livy is right in asserting
that Veientes contra taedio annuae ambitonis, quae interdum discordiarum causa erat,
regem creavere (Livy 5.1.3). Their choice cost them the opprobrium of the other Etrus-
can populi (Livy 5.1.6), who declined to support them in their struggle against Rome
(which finally conquered Veii in 396).
Monarchical traditions are also attested in Caere, associated both with rulers that
were probably of the “tyrannical” type (Mezentius, Thefarie Velianas) and with later
figures of the fourth century. As king of the Etruscans (“he who reigned over the Tyr-
rheni”), ancient tradition also mentions Arimnestos, who is said to have dedicated ex
voto a throne in the sanctuary of Zeus in Olympia —the first barbarian to do so (Paus.
5.12.5). The circumstances and the motives for the dedication of an object that was so
highly symbolic of power (insignia imperii) remain unknown. Of equal uncertainty
is the chronology of the episode, dated by some9 to the Orientalizing period (due to
the type of offering, a possibly wooden throne), and by others10 to the late archaic
period (also ascribing the offering to a sovereign of one of the Etruscan cities of Cam-
pania). In any case, that it was not an isolated case seems to be shown by the probable
dedication of Etruscan thrones in Olympia11 and an Etruscan diphros (perhaps a sella
curulis) in Delphi.12
Monarchical traditions are also found in other Etruscan cities, even in the north-
ern area such as Arretium (ruled over by the Cilnii, the gens from which Maecenas
descended),13 although it is not known how far back in time they originate. They
were also present in Rome, where the dynasty of Etruscan kings (Tarquinius Priscus,
Servius Tullius, Tarquinius Superbus) gave rise to what the famous Italian philologist
Giorgio Pasquali described as the “great Rome of the Tarquinii.”14 The personal name
of the first of the Tarquinii (Tarquinius Priscus) is associated with one of the most
ancient traditions referring directly to the existence of kings in Etruria. According to
8 TLE2 36, 38; Briquel 1991.

9 Naso 2006a, 337–340; 2006b, 362–363.
10 Colonna 1993, 53.
11 Naso 2006a, 335–336; 2006b, 362–363, with bibliographic references.
12 Naso 2006a, 339–340; 2006b, 375–376.
13 See Maggiani 1986, with references to the literary sources.
14 Pasquali 1936.

Servius, a late commentator on Virgil’s Aeneid,15 the term lucumo was the Etruscan
word for rex. However, according to some ancient authors,16 Lucumo was also the
original name of the future Tarquinius Priscus. Born in Tarquinii from the union of
the Corinthian exile Demaratus and a local noblewoman, he is said to have changed
his name to Lucius after moving to Rome.17 According to other sources, Lucumo (or
Lycmon) was the name of an Etruscan leader allied with Romulus in the war against
the Sabines,18 and an eminent personage from Clusium who lived at the beginning of
the fourth century.19 In addition, lucumo is attested as a personal name (especially
as a praenomen, but also as a nomen or cognomen), in Etruscan epigraphical texts of
the fifth to second centuries, with the forms Lauchume and Lauchme.20 Scholars have
thus deduced that this is a late tradition, interpretable as the conversion of a personal
name to an institutional term.21
In this context, the ancient sources highlight the role of the Etruscan lady
Tanaquil, the wife of Lucumo / L. Tarquinius Priscus, as the “faiseuse de rois,”22 in
reference to both her husband and his successor, Servius Tullius. The woman is said
to have woven the toga regia undulata that was subsequently worn by Servius Tullius
with her own hands.23 The latter’s daughter, Tullia, wife of Tarquinius Superbus, is
said to have played a similar role to that of Tanaquil in predicting the royal destiny of
her husband and in facilitating his rise to the throne, to the point that, according to
Livy (1.48.5), regemque prima appellavit.
As in the case of the Tarquinii, the rise of the Etruscan kings and magistrates
was accompanied by auguries of power (omina imperii). Some authors24 record the
extraordinary destiny reserved for those leaders who were struck by lightning in the
exercise of their functions as rex, or plausibly as magistrate (princeps civitatis) and
yet survived. However, in the Etruscan tradition, omina imperii were also indicated
by other celestial phenomena or by certain animals. Fulmina regalia were defined
by Aulus Caecina as those lightning bolts that struck the forum, the comitium or the
main public places of a free city (as in the case of Rome), warning of the threat of
15 Serv. ad Aen. 2. 278: duodecim enim lucumones, qui reges sunt lingua Tuscorum, habebant (scil.
populi Tusciae); cf. 8.65; 8.475; 10.202.
16 Livy 1.34.1 ff.; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 3.46.5; Strabo 5.2.2; De vir. ill. 6.1; Macrob. Sat. 1.6.8; Sid. Apoll.
Epist. 5.7.7.
17 Livy 1.34.11; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 3.48.2; Strabo 5.2.2.
18 Cic., rep., 2.8.14; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 2.37.2, 2.37.5, 2.42.2, 2.43.2 (Lucumo); Prop. 4.1.29 (Lycmon).
19 Livy 5.33.1; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 13.10.1; Plut., Cam. 15.3.
20 Giannecchini, Reali 2001, 454–458.
21 E.g., de Simone 1988, 35–36; Cristofani 1991; Agostiniani 2003.
22 According to the definition given by Heurgon 1969, 113, followed by Martin 1985 and Briquel 1998.
Cf. Meulder 2005; Santini 2005. See also Small 2003.
23 Varro, in Plin. HN 8.74.194; cf. Festus Gloss. Lat. 85.
24 E.g., Serv. ad Aen. 2.649.

monarchy (Sen. Q. Nat. 2.49.2). Macrobius25 notes that even the color of the coat of
sacrificial animals (rams, goats) was useful in this regard: if the hide had golden or
purple patches, great fortune lay in store for the princeps. This form of augury, cited in
the libri Etruscorum, is also to be found in the liber Tarquitii (scil. Tarquitii Prisci) tran-
scriptus ex Ostentario Tusco. For other ancient authors, certain animals had a special
symbolic value in terms of royalty. According to Pliny the Elder (HN 11.18.55), bees
were considered an ill omen in that they were a symbol of monarchy, while Servius
affirms that doves provide auguries only to kings, since, like them, they never travel
alone (ad Aen. 1.393).
According to late testimony by Macrobius (Sat. 1.15.13), the Etruscan kings regu-
larly gave audiences and made decisions on questions of public interest every eight
days.
1.3 Symbols of power
To these traditions may be added those relating to the Etruscan origin of the symbols of
power associated with Roman kings and magistrates (insignia imperii). In recent years
this issue has been the object of renewed attention on the part of researchers,26 partly
as a result of important discoveries such as the group of bronzes (lituus trumpet, axe,
shield) discovered in Tarquinii (Fig. 45.2).27
The ancient authors’ accounts of royal clothing and symbols among the Romans
show some discrepancies: Dionysius of Halicarnassus, who provides the most exhaus-
tive list, mentions the golden crown,28 scepter with eagle, ivory throne, tunic and
cloak in purple (identified with the tunica palmata and the toga picta worn by victori-
ous Roman leaders during triumphs), and the staffs and axes borne by twelve lictors.
Other authors also mention the bulla aurea, trumpets, spears, and other items. All
appear to basically agree in attributing their origin to the Etruscans, either to Etruria
and its twelve populi generally or to Tarquinii in particular.29 The Etruscans are said
to have passed these insignia to the Romans in the time of Romulus30 or Tarquinius
Priscus.31 Subsequently, these symbols and items of clothing, except the golden crown
25 Sat. 3.7.2; cf. Serv. ad Ecl. 4, 43.

26 E.g., Torelli 1992; Menichetti 1994; Delpino, Bartoloni 2000, 223–225; Menichetti 2000; Torelli
2000; Tassi Scandone 2001; Guittard 2002–2003; Piel 2005, 423–430; Torelli 2006, 407–430; Fortunelli
2008, 186–187. See these studies for complete references to the ancient sources.
27 See footnote 1 above.
28 Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 3.61.1. Contrary to Virgil’s opinion (Aen. 8.505–506), according to Servius (ad
Aen. 8.505) the crown was not retained as a symbol of power and of monarchy among the Etruscans.
29 Strabo 5.2.2; cf. Verg. Aen. 8.505.
30 Livy 1.8.3; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 3.61.3.
31 Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 3.61.1; Strabo 5.2.2.

and the tunica palmata,32 passed to the Roman magistrates. These symbols and items
of clothing were retained by Rome in adherence to an explicit tendency to elevate
the symbols of power to sacred status, and even to propose a divine origin for them,
achieved by associating them with the city’s most important divinity, Jupiter Optimus
Maximus Capitolinus. The cult statue of the god, commissioned by Tarquinius Priscus
and created by Vulca, a sculptor from Veii,33 was kept in the central cella of the temple
on the Capitoline. It showed the god seated on a throne, with a bundle of lightning
bolts in his right hand, wearing the clothing and insignia typical of Etruscan royalty,
which were later worn by Roman generals on the occasion of triumphs.
In contrast, the isolated testimony of Silius Italicus claims that the Romans
derived their magisterial insignia (sella curulis, toga praetexta, military trumpets,
lictors’ fasces) from Vetulonia, at an uncertain date (Pun. 8.483–488). The reference
to Vetulonia has often been linked to the discovery of certain items in the settlement’s
necropolises, such as the Late Orientalizing funerary stela (late seventh century) of
Aule Feluske, which shows a warrior armed with a double-headed axe,34 and the
bundle of rods with a double-headed axe discovered in the Tomb of the Lictors (630–
620 BCE).35 The latter is the only known example of its kind for Etruria. As was subse-
quently the case with the “Roman” fasces, the rods (symbolizing the imperium domi,
i.e. power in the urban context) and the axe (alluding to the imperium militiae, i.e.
power in the military context) are clearly associated, although elsewhere in Etruria
they are always separate.
In addition, Etruscan contexts abound in other objects of clear ideological and
symbolic value, such as the hasta, considered to be the summa armorum et imperii,36
and the lituus, representing an imperium based on the correct interpretation of the
divine will.37
In the archaeological evidence from the Orientalizing and Archaic periods, this
ideology of power, particularly royal or “princely” and aristocratic power, is expressed
most clearly in a series of artifacts (ceramics, architectural terra-cottas, funerary
sculptures, objects in ivory, etc.) that convey figurative cycles and programs. In the
last few decades, these have been the object of iconographic analyses and iconologi-
cal interpretations that have generated much debate.38 Of considerable importance
in this context are the emphasis on genealogical data and the use of Greek myths for
ideological and propaganda purposes. Indeed, Greek mythology was perceived and
32 Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 3.62.2.

33 Varro, in Plin. HN 35.45.157; cf. August., De civ. D. 4.31.
34 G. Bartoloni, in Delpino and Bartoloni 2000, 227; cf. Poccetti 1997 for the inscription.
35 Pagnini 2000; Tassi Scandone 2001.
36 Alföldi 1959; cf. Scarano Ussani 1996.
37 Aureli 2000.
38 See chapters 19 Naso, 45 Menichetti, 46 Micozzi, 47 Naso.

adopted by members of the Etruscan elites as an instrument of self-representation

and legitimation of their power.
Demonstrating the complexity of the issue and the heterogeneity of the individ-
ual local contexts, data from Etruscan epigraphic texts of the seventh to sixth centu-
ries do not appear to provide explicit indications concerning monarchical forms. One
of the Late Orientalizing funerary stones discovered in Rubiera39 in Po valley Etruria
bears the most ancient (early sixth century) attestation of the term zilath, which in the
Etruscan inscriptions of the fourth to second centuries indicates the city’s supreme
magistrate. It is possible that in this case zilath corresponds to a local rex40 or is used
in a generic sense to refer to the “headman.”41 It might, however, identify a magis-
trate, considering the variety of Etruscan constitutional arrangements and the typi-
cally precocious nature of “colonial” contexts such as Rubiera. Consider also that
the cippus found in Tragliatella42 documents the presence of maru, another Etruscan
magisterial office, in Caere in the mid sixth century.
2 Late-Archaic Period
In the current historical interpretation,43 the period from the last decades of the sixth
to the first decades of the fifth century represents a long phase of transition, by the
end of which the Etruscan cities (or at least most of them) had abandoned monarchi-
cal regimes in favor of some form of republican order. In some settlements this shift
is believed to have entailed experimentation with forms of radical “democracy” and/
or experiences of tyranny, similar to what was happening in the same period in the
Greek colonies of southern Italy and Sicily (as well as Greece itself).
Overall, this interpretation is plausible. There is no doubt that the urbanization
of Etruscan settlements, the structural and functional differentiation of local social
systems, and the growth of “intermediate” social classes (artisans, traders, etc.) all
somehow weakened and reduced (but did not entirely obliterate) the preeminent
political, social and economic role of the Etruscan elites in the Orientalizing and
Archaic periods. It is also a fair assumption that in the Etruscan cities of the Late
Archaic period such transformations led to experimentation with new forms of gov-
ernment.44 It is harder to say, however, precisely what these forms consisted of. From
39 Amann 2004, 2008; cf. de Simone 1992, 10–15.

40 Maggiani 2000, 229.
41 E.g., Camporeale 2000, 62, 152.
42 Morandi 1995; Colonna 2007a; Aigner Foresti 2009, 11.
43 See, e.g., Cristofani 1978, 74–88; Torelli 1984, 175–181, 201–203; Briquel 1987, 144, 147–148; Maggiani
2000, 227–228; Adam 2001; Cristofani 2001, 131, etc.
44 E.g., Maggiani 2000, 228.

an assessment of the ancient authors’ reconstruction of Late Archaic Etruscan history,

with reference to historic and institutional contexts about which much more is known
(Greece, Rome), it may be inferred that the figures found at the head of the city-states
in that period played a role that was in some ways comparable to that of a tyrant (or
tyrant-king). In fragments attributed to the sophist Hippias of Elis,45 who lived in the
second half of the fifth century, the association of the Etruscans with tyranny was
cited as an etymological explanation of the Greek term tyrannos, said to be derived
from the name of the Tyrrheni.
An example of a leader with tyrannical characteristics is the evil Mezentius of
Caere, who was responsible for the brutal killing (by stoning) of the prisoners from
Phocaea following the battle of Alalia around 540.46 The historicity of this figure,
known primarily from Virgil’s Aeneid,47 is highly debatable; he may be recognized
today as the projection backwards into the mythical past of an Etruscan leader of the
Archaic period. Another figure from Caere who appears to have been some sort of
tyrant is Thefarie Velianas, “ruler over Cisra” in the late sixth century. From the three
inscriptions on gold plates discovered in the sanctuary of Pyrgi (“the Pyrgi Tablets”),48
we learn that Thefarie Velianas had a temple and a sanctuary built in honor of Uni
(assimilated to the Phoenician Astarte), to give thanks for the help received three
years earlier on the occasion of his rise to power.
Another possible tyrant is Mastarna, identified by ancient tradition with Servius
Tullius.49 He is shown with his friends and supporters Aulus and Caelius Vibenna,
generals from Vulci, in the famous cycle of frescoes in the François Tomb in Vulci.50
Lars Porsenna, whom literary sources refer to as the lord of Clusium and Volsinii,51
may also have been a tyrant. Together with his son Arruns, he is described as seeking
to help Tarquinius Superbus return to Rome after his expulsion (509 BCE), though his
real objective was to seize the city himself.
The fall of tyrannical monarchies in the course of the sixth century in Athens
(Hippias, in 510) and Rome (Tarquinius Superbus, in 509) was explained by ancient
historians as the “expulsion of the king-tyrants.” This interpretative model could also
45 FrGrHist 6 F 6; cf. Philochorus of Athens FrGrHist 328 F 100.

46 Hdt. 1.167.2. On this episode see Di Fazio 2001, esp. 439–445. On the figure and the name of
Mezentius see also de Simone 1991; Briquel 1989; Gaultier and Briquel 1989. On the naval battle of
Alalia see Bernardini, Spanu and Zucca 2000; Bernardini 2001.
47 Aen. 7.647 ff.; 8.481 ff.; cf. Liv. 1.2.3 (who refers to Mezentius as rex); Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 1.64.4,
2.5.5 (basileus).
48 CIE 6314–6316. On the figure of Thefarie Velianas see Briquel 1989; Colonna 2007b.
49 According to the opinion expressed by the emperor Claudius in his famous speech of 48 CE (cf. CIL
13.1668). On this topic see Laurendi 2010 and Maras 2010 (with bibliographic references).
50 On these paintings and their interpretation see Musti 2005.
51 Colonna 2000b; 2001. Cf. Jannot 1988; Di Fazio 2000; Migliorati 2003; Piel 2003; Martínez-Pinna
2011.

be applied to Etruria, at least in certain cases. In reference to the events of 509, the
ancient authors mention popular assemblies (ekklesiai) and magistrates (tele) in the
city of Tarquinii.52 In 404 the populi of Etruria declined to assist Veii, at war with
Rome, while the city was still sub rege (Livy 5.1.6).
3 From the Fifth to the Second Centuries

For the period from the fifth to the beginning of the first century (the Social War,
91–89 BCE), the study of the forms of political organization in Etruscan cities ben-
efits from much richer and more varied documentation. To the data retrievable from
the archaeological sources may be added the information yielded by the numismatic
evidence. Moreover, for the purposes of historical reconstruction, the literary sources
pose fewer problems of reliability, although certain weak points remain. For one
thing, the chronological distance between the events being narrated and their anno-
tation in the sources is much smaller. However, the greater historiographical credibil-
ity of the information recorded by the ancient authors must be weighed together with
their limited interest in the political and institutional arrangements of Etruscan cities
and the complete absence of any information of a technical or juridical nature. Their
attention is essentially taken up by the dialectic between domini and servi, around
which Etruscan society generally appears to have been polarized. There are isolated
accounts, such as the late contribution by Hesychius of Miletus,53 who glosses the
term drouna as an Etruscan word (truna? thruna?) designating “the magistrature
among the Tyrrheni.” However, the term does not thus far seem to have any equiva-
lent in the rich legacy of Etruscan epigraphy.
In any case, it is the epigraphic sources—much more abundant than previously—
that provide the most explicit and significant data regarding the chronology of the
fourth to the second centuries. There are dozens of Etruscan inscriptions containing
information of institutional interest. In addition to magisterial terminology, they also
yield an institutional lexicon, of limited extent but reasonably complex, essentially
relating to urban organization and the territorial limits of the city’s jurisdiction. For
example, the Etruscan term spura denotes the “community;” methlum the “city” or
“urban space;” tuthina the “village” or the “area within its territorial jurisdiction;”
cilth, the “arx” or “acropolis;” rasna the “people.”54
Above all, the Etruscan inscriptions of the fourth to the second centuries enable
us to reconstruct, with a certain degree of reliability, especially for certain cities, the
52 E.g., Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 5.3.2.

53 TLE2 829.
54 Lambrechts 1970; Rix 1984; Colonna 1988; Agostiniani 1997; Cristofani 1997; Cerchiai 2000;
de Simone 2004.

magisterial system in force in the Etruscan settlements of the time. This was a fairly
complex system, with elected posts of one year’s duration55 that could be held more
than once, of an individual or collegiate nature, with functions and competences that
are often hard to discern. Also active in Etruscan city-states were collegiate bodies
that the ancient authors describe as local assemblies or senates,56 made up of expo-
nents of the city’s nobility. Possible analogies with the situation of Rome, together
with clues contained in the literary sources,57 suggest that the populations of Etrus-
can cities, probably from the start of the monarchical period onward, were divided up
into tribes, which were probably subdivided into curiae.
The existence of an institutional setup of this kind within the Etruscan settlements
of the period constitutes explicit evidence of the shift from monarchical regimes (or
similar arrangements) to republican ones.58 This process seems to have had differ-
ent timescales and outcomes depending on the city. In some cases, it seems to have
taken place quite early, as in Tarquinii, for example, a city which—apart from the local
origin of the Tarquinii dynasty—had no known traditions of royal government. The
presence here of republican institutions is recorded in the literary sources as early
as the late sixth century, while in Caere the presence of a maru in the sixth century
is documented epigraphically. In other cases, the shift may have been more gradual
or discontinuous. Caere, for example, in the first half of the fourth century seems to
have been ruled by a rex Caeritum, mentioned in the elogium by Aulus Spurinna.59 In
Veii, apart from a brief, late parenthesis, the monarchical regime seems to have never
really been abandoned, considering that as late as 404 the inhabitants appointed a
rex. For Felsina too, on the basis of iconographic data, particularly the explicitly regal
ideology that emerges from the figurative decoration of the funerary stelae of the fifth
to fourth centuries, some scholars have posited the prolonged survival of the monar-
chical system.60
In any case, the shift from monarchical to republican forms did not substantially
modify the oligarchical nature of Etruscan government. In the first few decades of
the fifth century, after the disastrous Etruscan defeat in the sea of Cumae (474) and
in the same period as the so-called “closing of the patriciate” in Rome, the Etruscan
oligarchies seem to have closed ranks in defense of their privileges, in what has been
termed an oligarchic “closure” or “involution” in Etruscan society at that time.61
55 Liv. 5.1.3 refers to annuae ambitionis.

56 E.g., in the case of Tarquinii: Dion. Hal. 5.3.2; Arretium: Livy 27.24.2 ff.
57 Verg. Aen 10. 202; Serv. ad Aen. 8.475; 10.202; 11.9 With reference to the Etruscan town of Mantua,
Serv. ad Aen. 10.202 makes mention of three tribes, each subdivided into four curiae.
58 E.g., see Briquel 1987, 144; Maggiani 1996 and 2000; Fromentin 2003. Cf. Mazzarino 1945.
59 Torelli 1975, 39ff.
60 E.g., Maggiani 2000, 228.
61 Torelli 1984, 184–185.

Until the Roman conquest, magisterial office and the priesthood continued to be
the preserve of local elites (domini or exponents of the ordo principum), who occupied
the assemblies of the senates and the citizens and from whom the princeps civitatis
was chosen.
The names of these magistrates and priests appear mostly in Etruscan funerary
inscriptions. There are significant quantitative differences, however, in the documen-
tation available. Only in the case of Tarquinii and the settlements associated with it
(Musarna, Tuscania, Norchia) is there sufficient information; about fifty inscriptions
have been discovered there, containing elements of institutional interest. Only few
inscriptions are available for the other Etruscan city-states. It has therefore rightly
been observed that only for Tarquinii can the available material be considered signifi-
cant62—sufficient for example to enable a plausible reconstruction of the local cursus
honorum. In the other cases this is not possible due to the scarcity of known evidence.
This may not be pure coincidence, considering the city’s ancient and consolidated
republican tradition and the absence of data concerning the existence of local reges.
Nor is it likely to be pure coincidence that for Veii, a city strongly tied to monarchical
institutions, there are no epigraphic attestations of local magistrates. However, this
silence is also a result of its early conquest by the Romans (396), who put an end to
the city’s autonomous institutional history.
In examining the magisterial system of the Etruscan settlements of the fourth to
the second centuries, it is important to distinguish between the abstract form (i.e. the
magistrature), almost always characterized by the suffixes -uch and -uc, and the con-
crete form (i.e. the individual magistrate), indicated by a broader range of suffixes.63
In the case of Tarquinii at least, it is possible, as mentioned above, to reconstruct the
plausible career path (cursus honorum) of a public magistrate, as in the Roman world.
This began with the marunuch magistrature, which then led to the eisnevc or perhaps
ep(u)rthnevc, the macstrevc, and finally the zilach.
In Etruria the marunuch (corresponding to a maru), which is also attested among
the Umbrians, appears to have existed as both an individual and a collegiate office.64
Very often an attribute or an appellative indicates the area of competence (m. spurana,
m. pachathura. m. spuran cepen, to name just the most frequently attested forms).
This appears to have extended to the religious and building spheres, thus making it to
some extent comparable with the Roman quaestura and aedilitas.
62 Maggiani 1996, 123; 2000, 233, 235.

63 Maggiani 1996, 101–102; 2000, 234–235; Wylin 2002.
64 For this and the other magistratures see Maggiani 1996; 2000; 2001; 2005 (on whom this discussion
is largely based); cf. Adiego 2007. For other aspects relating to the Etruscan magisterial system see
Pallottino 1955–1956; Lambrechts 1959; Martínez-Pinna 1999; Berrendonner 2003; Aigner Foresti
2004; Martínez-Pinna 2006.

Etymologically, the eisnevc (corresponding to an *eisne-) is linked to the Etruscan

adjective aisna/eisna, meaning “sacred action.” The office is believed to have had
priestly functions, as did the cepen, which however should probably not be consid-
ered part of the Etruscan magistratures.
The office of ep(u)rthnevc (corresponding to an *ep(u)rthne), plausibly coreferen-
tial with the forms purthsvac/purthsvanais, is also hard to define. Various unsatisfac-
tory explanations have been proposed on the basis of its etymology, linking it to the
name of Porsenna or the Greek institution of pritania. In any case it is believed to have
been a highly important office that was not included in the cursus honorum.
Military prerogatives are believed to have accrued to the macstrevc (correspond-
ing to a *macstre), which seems to be the literary transcription, via the transposition
in the place name Macstrna/Mastarna of the Latin magister,65 with particular refer-
ence to the magister populi or equitum.
At the top of the Etruscan magistrature was the office of zilach/zilac (correspond-
ing to a zilath/zilat), which was held by eminent persons in the various communities.
It is also the office with the earliest attestation, dating back to the beginning of the
sixth century. It was both an individual and a collegiate post, appointed on an annual
basis, which could be held for as many as eleven times, according to the available evi-
dence. It was eponymous and often accompanied by attributes (z. parchis, z. seleita/
selaita, z. eterau/eterav, z. munica, z. mechl rasnal, z. cechaneri, etc.) that specify the
area of competence or allude to some form of hierarchy within the category.
For some of these specifications, we can be more precise. The zilath eterau/eterav,
for example, was associated with the youth domain in that the post was held by a
young person, preparatory to the cursus honorum itself, or corresponded to the leader
of a youth organization.66 The zilath mechl rasnal is today identified with the supreme
citizen magistrate at the head of the populus (rasna), i.e. of the individual city-state
and its territory (for example Tarquinii and its ager). Another was the zilath cechan-
eri, corresponding to the highest office of the so-called League of the twelve Etruscan
populi.
Of the magistrates, especially the zilath, there are many iconographic attesta-
tions in the Etruscan art of the period. One of the first representations is probably
that of a funerary cippus from Clusium (475–450): seated on a dais, two magistrates
(or perhaps two agonothetes?), a scribe, and a lictor observe a parade of winners of
the agōn.67 However, it is above all in later Etruscan figurative works that the image
of the magistrate becomes common. The scenes painted on the walls of the funerary
chambers of Tarquinii or sculpted on the caskets of sarcophagi and urns from the set-
tlements of southern Etruria (Caere, Tarquinii, Vulci) and northern Etruria (Volterra)
65 Cf. de Simone 2002; 2006.

66 On the Etruscan term etera see the considerations of Benelli 2003; cf. Facchetti 2002.
67 For an iconographical analysis of the cippus see Colonna 1976.

portray the magistrate in a chariot or standing in a procession escorted by lictors,

apparitores and musicians.68 With the semantic ambivalence typical of Etruscan
funerary iconography, this scene is loaded with symbolic and allusive meanings that
represent the journey of the deceased magistrate to the world of the dead, but also, as
some have pointed out,69 reflect real magisterial processions and faithfully reproduce
their personages and attributes.
The earliest examples of the iconographic tradition of the magisterial procession
in southern Etruria date back to the late fifth century. These include the representa-
tions on the sarcophagi of Ramtha Visnai in Vulci and the Tomb of the Sarcophagi in
Caere (which both show distinctive attributes of magistrates such as the sella curulis
and the lituus). From the beginning of the fourth century, this is also seen in the funer-
ary paintings of Tarquinii (Tomb of the Pygmies), where it is attested in various con-
texts up to the third century (the Tomb of the Shields, the Bruschi Tomb, the Tomb of
the Meeting, the Tomb of Typhon) (Colour plates 42–48). Even in the second century,
it was still in use in Volterra, on the reliefs that decorate the caskets of the locally
produced cinerary urns, although it was by then subject to the growing influence of
Roman iconography.
4 Etruscan federal organization

While Etruscan forms of political organization depended primarily on the individual
cities (city-states), Etruscan literary and epigraphic sources also mention the exist-
ence of a (con)federal-organism encompassing the twelve populi of Etruria (duodecim
populi, duodecim populi Etruriae, dodeka hegemoniai, or more simply Etruria, omnis
Etruria).70
The expression of an ethnic-national identity linked to the nomen omne Etruscum,71
the League of the “twelve peoples of Etruria,” as it is conventionally referred to in
modern Etruscological discourse, is believed to have been a stable but fluid political
and religious structure, able to adapt over time and incorporate settlements that had
acquired importance and political autonomy in place of others that had declined or
had been conquered. It is therefore possible that it originally included the cities of
Veii, Caere, Tarquinii, Vulci, Volsinii, Clusium, Vetulonia, Volterra, Perusia, Cortona,
Arretium, and Faesulae; and that cities such as Rusellae, Populonia, and Pisa subse-
68 On the magisterial procession in Etruscan art see Maggiani 1996, 95–99, 127–132; Jannot 1998;
Maggiani 2000, 239; Menzel and Naso 2007, 23 ff.
69 Menzel and Naso 2007, 40.
70 On this topic see the contributions in Volsinii 1985 and Lega 2001.
71 As it may be deduced from Livy 4.23.5; 4.25.7; 4.61.2; 5.17.6; 6.2.2; cf. 5.1.3; 9.41.6.

quently replaced others that were conquered by the Romans or simply declined, such
as Veii, Vetulonia and perhaps even Caere.
In any case, the League of the twelve populi appears to be cited mostly by the
ancient authors in connection with the assemblies that were held near Volsinii at the
fanum Voltumnae, i.e. the federal sanctuary dedicated to Voltumna, deus princeps
Etruriae (Varro Ling. 5.8.46), which is traditionally considered to be near Orvieto.72
Livy73 records a series of meetings of the concilia Etruriae between 434 and 352, in
which questions of a political and military nature were debated. These assemblies,
which until 397 discussed issues relating to the conflict between Rome and Veii, could
authorize armed intervention by the members of the League in support of an indi-
vidual city or even the establishment of a federal army.
It is plausible that concilia had also been held in an earlier period. For some
sources, especially those of the annalistic type, the existence of the twelve populi
of Etruria dates back to the age of the Tarquinii,74 or even to that of Romulus (e.g.,
Livy 1.8.3). It is practically certain that they continued to be held well into the fourth
and even third century, if we consider the generic references in the literary sources
to assemblies held by the peoples of Etruria in connection with their clashes with
Rome.75 In the fifth and fourth centuries, the meetings of the concilia at the fanum
Voltumnae seem to have been held regularly, perhaps once a year. The decisions of the
assembly were made by vote, as explicitly recorded by the ancient authors,76 albeit in
reference to the monarchical era. Any dissent from the common policy could lead to
the exclusion of individual cities from the League.77
When the concilia Etruriae were held, ludi were organized and “federal” officials
were elected. In the monarchical period at least, the League was headed by a king
elected from among the sovereigns of the twelve populi, to whom they entrusted their
insignia (one lictor from each of them) and on whom they conferred full powers.78
Subsequently, with the advent of republican institutions, the federal leader was
chosen from among the principes (Livy 2.44.8), i.e. the superior magistrates (zilath)
of the twelve populi. It is possible that the holders of this post were given the title of
zilath cechaneri (“responsible for higher matters”), attested by Etruscan epigraphy.
72 The most recent archaeological research seems to identify the sanctuary with the site of Campo
della Fiera, near Orvieto: Stopponi 2012.
73 4.23.5, 4.25.7, 4.61.2; 5.17.6; 6.2.2; 7.21.9.
74 E.g., Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 3.51.4, 3.57.1, 3.59.2–4, 4.27.2–4.
75 E.g., Livy 9.41.6 (308 BCE); 10.16.3 (296); cf. Flor. 1.12.17.1, who makes mention of the duodecim
populi Etruscorum in ca. 310.
76 E.g., Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 3.57.1, 3.59.4, 4.27.4.
77 Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 3.57.1; cf. 9.18.2.
78 Referring to this figure, the ancient authors make use of the terms rex, lucumo, basileus, hegemon,
and strategos hegoumenos: Diod. Sic. 5.40.1; Livy 1.8.3; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 3.61.2; etc. cf. Strabo 5.2.2
and. Serv. ad Aen. 2.278, 8.475, 10.202, 11.9.

The anonymous occupant of the Tomb of the Meeting in Tarquinii may have held such
a post (Colour plate 44).79
The ancient authors also record the election (in 403) of a sacerdos Etruriae
(Livy 5.1.5) during the solemnia ludorum quos intermittit nefas est (5.1.4). Although we
do not need to accept—as has frequently been proposed80—that the League was origi-
nally and essentially of a religious character, the literary sources provide compelling
evidence of the centrality of religious practice in the context of the Etruscan League,81
as in the case of other (con)federal institutions in ancient times. The sources also
confirm the importance of the political and representative function of the sanctuaries
in Etruria (or at least some of them), again amply attested elsewhere in the ancient
world.
The purely formal survival of the Etruscan League in the Roman Imperial epoch—
right up until the fourth century CE—is attested by Latin inscriptions that continued to
make reference to official posts (praetor Etruriae XV populorum, aedilis Etruriae) that
recalled the ancient structures of the League.82 These were elective posts of a year’s
duration, of a religious but essentially honorific nature, reserved for members of the
municipal Italic elites of senatorial and equestrian rank. They reflect the Etruscan
revival that characterized the early Imperial age and led, in the Augustan and Clau-
dian epochs, to the re-establishment—in an antiquarian perspective—of the Etruscan
League, with the number of cities increased to fifteen.
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87:88–108.

10 Economy and trade
To the memory of Mark Weir
Abstract: For many centuries, the Etruscan economy was one of the most thriving in the Mediterranean,
driving intense trading over an area stretching from eastern Greece (Samos, Miletus) to the far Western
reaches (Carthage, Iberia). Yet in spite of their importance, there are very few direct sources concern-
ing these processes. After a brief overview of these sources, this chapter looks at the different scales of
Etruscan production and trade (city, regional, and Mediterranean networks). This is followed by a dia-
chronic presentation of the principal historical phases of the Etruscan economy. The development of the
earliest processes of stockpiling and specialized productions, above all in metalworking (eighth century
BCE), led to the formation of a highly prestigious aristocracy (seventh century) that was able to control
production and trade over long distances. In parallel, various forms of highly specialized manufactur-
ing developed. The sixth century saw the emergence of a phase of emporia, with specialized trading
and the affirmation of a craftsmen class in the various Etruscan cities. Coastal trade was structured in a
number of ports in southern Etruria (Gravisca, Pyrgi). This phase was characterized by a marked mobil-
ity of craftsmen and merchants, as is shown above all by the dedications found in various trading sites
and sanctuaries throughout the Mediterranean (Mileto, Naucratis, Carthage). Transformations during
the fifth century brought about a crisis in some local economies (above all in southern Etruria), but
also fostered a notable boom for centers in the Po Valley (Felsina, Spina, Adria, Marzabotto) and on
the Tyrrhenian (Aleria, in Corsica). In the fourth century, coinage entered commercial exchanges, even
though—paradoxically—trading circuits had reformed on a local scale. The main goods exchanged over
this broad chronological span were certainly staple commodities (crude metal) and the products of spe-
cialized agriculture (wine, oil), together with the products of luxury craftsmanship, such as metalwork-
ing and probably perfumes, textiles and other precious commodities. However, such a cursory overview
must not obscure the many issues still under debate. Two such topics are outlined in the closing section:
whether use was made of intermediaries in the network of Etruscan maritime trade, and how such a
widespread trading network was sustained in an essentially pre-monetary environment, drawing on
other systems of equivalence such as metal ingots of known weight.
Keywords: trade, land, mobility, agricultural products, craft products
1 Methodological aspects and sources

on the Etruscan economy
There are two immediate difficulties facing anybody wishing to write a history of an
ancient economy: the lack of any theoretical consideration of economic factors in
ancient times, and the difficulty of quantifying phenomena. These shortcomings are
even more dramatic when dealing with a people like the Etruscans, who left no direct
written testimonies of their own history. This could be why very few attempts have
144 Maria Cecilia D’Ercole
been made to sum up the economic history of Etruscan societies,1 even though there
is an enormous literature concerning particular aspects of manufacturing, produc-
tion, trade and everyday life. Nonetheless, rather than forgoing the attempt to trace
an economic history of ancient societies, it is appropriate to perfect our interpretative
models and collate all the various sources available to us. If we cannot pin down the
exact quantities involved in transactions (and after all, for how many societies prior
to the modern age are such calculations possible?), we have to focus on the quality
of the evidence. This methodological approach, which owes something to the disci-
plines of anthropology and social history, investigates the impact—even indirectly—of
exchanges on the development and configuration of ancient societies, without losing
sight of the partial and hence modifiable nature of the results obtained.
The sources for a history of trade and the economy in Etruria fall essentially into
three categories: a) literary; b) epigraphic; and c) archaeological. The sources of the
first type, which are primarily Greek and Roman, are often affected by phenomena of
distortion common in the representation of foreign societies. An eloquent example of
such an attitude is the way in which the Etruscans’ prosperity2 was perceived as exces-
sive luxury—tryphé—and thus as a negative quality.3 Another example of mispercep-
tion is piracy. This activity is often associated with the Etruscan presence on the seas,
at least from 530 BCE onwards, when the legend of the abduction of Dionysus by Tyr-
rhenian pirates first featured on Ionian and Attic vases.4 In the Augustan age, Strabo
(5.3.5) described joint actions of piracy by the Etruscans and inhabitants of Antium in
the second half of the fourth century. Undoubtedly piracy involved the violent seizure
of goods, and was particularly common in certain contexts such as the slave trade. But
in antiquity it was a widely practiced economic activity: not only by the Phoenicians
(Homer, Odyssey) but also by the Greeks themselves in a remote past (Thuc. 1.5).
The epigraphic sources never make direct reference to trade, meaning that we
do not know the vocabulary used for this activity in Etruscan. On some recipients
that have come to light, we do, however, have traces of calculations and the so-called
“trademarks,” symbols representing owners or traders.5 The discovery of texts, such
as the lead plaque found at Pech Maho (France), dating from the beginning of the fifth
century, provides new information. Although it has elicited a series of controversial
interpretations, in this text, all scholars recognize:6 a) the Etruscan name of Marseille,
i.e. mataliai; b) the first evidence of the use of depots (Etruscan kisne); c) evidence
of a very extensive commercial enterprise, involving an Etruscan (Vel) and a Latin
1 Exceptions are: Colonna 1976; Cristofani 1983; 1986; Torelli 1986; 1997.
2 Strabo 5.29; Dion Hal. Ant. Rom. 1.18.
3 Ath. 12. 517 d, 518 a-b, drawing on Timaeus of Tauromenion and Theopompus of Chios.
4 On Etruscan piracy: Cristofani 1983, 57–8.
5 Johnston 2000, 48–51.
6 Cristofani 1995, 133; Colonna 2006a, 668; Ampolo 2009.

10 Economy and trade 145
merchant (Utave), who signed the contract in a Greek trading post in the western
Mediterranean, probably Marseille or its Iberian colony, Emporion (now Ampurias).
Archaeology still provides the fundamental evidence for establishing Etruscan
economic history, whether in terms of the landscape or traditional studies on the pro-
duction and distribution of goods. Yet the use of archaeological remains obviously
presents some problems of interpretation. Most of the data comes from funerary
contexts, which, far from being the equivalent of ledgers, were intended as a kind
of social and symbolic representation. Moreover, the process of circulation (seen in
amphoras) only partially coincides with production processes (such as agricultural
resources). In spite of these limits, archaeology gives a fairly reliable overview of eco-
nomic processes, sometimes providing firsthand information. This is the case of ship-
wrecks, precious sources for studying trade routes and cargoes. But in this case too,
the information that can be derived is never an objective entity, but rather a matter of
interpretation.
2 Regional, urban and Mediterranean networks

The economy occupied a number of spaces, which conditioned production and
exchange mechanisms. In order to understand the specificity of the Etruscan eco-
nomic system, it must be viewed on several different scales. On one scale we have
the urban realities that constantly characterize the development of Etruscan history,7
from the “Villanovan revolution”8 through the Roman conquest. The affirmation of
the Tyrrhenian ports in the sixth century testifies to the connections between empo-
rium, city and territory, seen particularly clearly in the case of Tarquinia.9 Civic organ-
ization also accounts for the different reactions towards global events such as the so-
called “crisis of the fifth century,” and the various policies concerning coinage during
the fourth century. The second scale concerns the diversity of regional districts. The
distinction between maritime, mining and Po Valley Etruria is not merely a modern
convention but corresponds to different economic realities. However, these regional
varieties should not be seen as idiosyncratic. On the contrary, the Etruscan communi-
ties soon distinguished themselves for their capacity to interact with their surround-
ings. We can think of the mining of metal ores but also of the hydraulic know-how that
made it possible to manage apparently hostile environments, such as saline lagoons.
Veii, Pisa, and Spina are three illustrations of the Etruscans’ ability to transform their
natural environment. At the same time, their political strategies made it possible to
7 See summary in Torelli 2000.

8 Bartoloni 2002, 97–114.
9 Bonghi Jovino 2006, 684–87.

extend the boundaries of regional realities, as is seen in the Etruscan expansion in

the Po starting at the end of the sixth century, probably the work of the cities in the
hinterland of northern Etruria, mostly Chiusi.
The third approach is on the Mediterranean scale, and in the case of the Etrus-
can economy, this became significant very early on.10 Commercial expansion took
place first of all within the western quadrilateral lying between Tyrrhenian Etruria,
Sardinia, the Euboic settlements in Campania (Pithekussai, Cumae), and the western
Phoenician sites from Carthage to the settlements in Sardinia. But already in the
Geometric period, this scenario extended to the Aegean Mediterranean, as is seen by
the presence of Etruscan votive offerings—weapons, fibulae, vessels and ornaments,
dating from the ninth–sixth centuries—in several Greek sanctuaries.11 Starting from
630, the Etruscan network regularly reached Celtic Europe12 and Iberia.13
3 The formation phase (eighth century)

Our investigation begins in the eighth century. This is when regional varieties emerge
in the Italic peninsula, when Greeks (Euboeans, Acheans and Corinthians) founded
several cities in southern Italy and Phoenicians reinforced their existing footholds
in Sardinia and Sicily. The occupation of the historic Etruscan sites (Veio, Tarquinia,
Populonia) and their territories involved an intensive exploitation of the territory that
has suggested a full-blown internal colonization.14 For the first time, the Etruscans
extended their territorial limits in the direction of the fertile lands of the Po Plain
and Campania. This agricultural expansion also had a technological basis. It prob-
ably relied on the alternation of crops and fallow land and the introduction of new
tools such as the plow, which occupies pride of place in one of the finest speci-
mens of Italic and indeed Mediterranean craftsmanship, the cult-chariot of Bisenzio
(Fig. 10.1). Individuals who were at the head of emerging family groups fostered this
expansion, and these people eventually became genuine aristocrats, recognizable by
the prestige objects found in some significant funerary contexts.15 These dynamics
imply the formation of a class of servants who were dependent on their overlords
and on the land, a social category that in some regions (such as southern Etruria)
10 See Rendeli 2007.

11 Naso 2006b.
12 See Shefton 1995, for an inventory of Etruscan bronzes and pottery north of the Alps, with list and
map of finds, and chapter 83 Baitinger.
13 Botto and Vives-Ferràndiz 2006.
14 Torelli 2000, 196.
15 Bartoloni 2002, 162–65.

Fig. 10.1: The chariot of Bisenzio. Rome, Villa Giulia (after Woytowitsch 1978, pl. 24)
persisted until the fourth century.16 Moreover, already in the eighth century, Etruscan
societies were able to intervene simultaneously in various sectors of the production
and circulation of goods. In this period, metallurgical activities can be linked to the
cities, while in the Late Bronze Age they took place on a regional scale,17 suggested,
among other things, by the way in which the coastal system flourished (Populonia
and Vetulonia). On the one hand, centers had common interests in the exploitation
of mineral deposits on Elba, and on the other in exchanges with Sardinia, another
major mining region. Some particularly dynamic centers like Tarquinia could have
played an important role right from the Early Iron Age in the search for minerals, in
particular iron.18 Another element is the richness of the metal objects produced in the
various ateliers, found above all in tombs or deposits (the so-called “hoards”). The
largest of such deposits came to light in Bologna. It contained 14,838 bronze objects,
and three made of iron, weighing 1418 kg in all, dating mostly from between the
ninth century and the first decades of the seventh century, when the deposit seems
16 Torelli 2000, 197, 200 (on bellum servile at Arretium during fourth century).
17 See model put forward by Carancini and Peroni 1999.
18 Zifferero 1991, 228–29.

to have been sealed.19 Moreover, starting in the mid eighth century, one can recog-
nize an ever-larger network of exchanges with the Aegean and the Near East. At Veii
and at Pontecagnano, for example, the presence of Euboic Geometric bowls (with
semicircles and à chevrons,) seems to accompany or even precede the colonization at
Pithecusa and Cumae.20 This process brought about a change in indicators of power.
The control of wide-ranging exchanges allowed to emerging individuals to add a new
political status to their private role of pater familias. The role of women became one
of the linchpins of the trade system through matrimonial alliances. At the beginning
of the eighth century, a female tomb from Vulci containing three Sardinian bronze
statuettes shows how extraneous women could be assimilated into local society.21
The exchange process became at the same time cause and effect of the formation of
a predominant class that was to become visible, exhibiting very pronounced exterior
markers, over the following century.
4 Aristocratic expansion (seventh century)

In the seventh century, the aristocracy attained a political and economic rank that
was of a very high level, perceptible in this phase thanks to epigraphs and archaeo-
logical evidence. This is when the gentilitial—an onomastic formula that establishes
membership of a family group in which the name, and presumably also the estate,
is passed on—came into existence.22 Once again, the exploitation of resources (both
agrarian and mineral) and the predominance of trading networks were the corner-
stones for the enormous expansion of Orientalizing Etruscan objects. In parallel, the
introduction of specialized cultures (such as grapes and olive) created new forms of
wealth and exportation networks. The rural area of Caere, one of the leading cities of
Orientalizing Etruscan society, numbered 113 farms and agricultural holdings dating
to between the end of the seventh and the sixth century.23 The discovery of grind-
stones, dolia, amphoras and animal remains, including game, indicate that cereals,
grapes and olives were cultivated, as well as animal husbandry. Finally, the presence
of aristocratic tumuli (e.g. in the Monteroni necropolises) together with the exist-
ence, already in the Archaic period, of gentilitials associated with the local toponym
(Alsaia) suggest that an aristocratic component was directly involved in the dynamics
19 Bentini 2005.
20 Boitani 2001.
21 Torelli 1997, 58; Bartoloni 2002, 184; Rendeli 2007, 236.
22 While still rare in the first half of the seventh century, gentilitians became increasingly common in
the second half, as in the onomastic corpus of Caere: Torelli 1997, 74.
23 Enei 2001, 49. A preliminary calculation suggests a figure in excess of 1,200 inhabitants distributed
over circa 85 km2 of cultivable land, on the territory lying between Alsium and Caere.

of territorial occupation.24 To this we can now add the increased technical prowess
of Etruscan craftsmanship. Like the Greeks and Phoenicians, the Etruscans became
famous for the manufacture of prestigious objects, made in a wide range of materi-
als, including clay and bronze, certainly, but also ivory, amber, gold and ostrich egg.
It is no coincidence that around the mid seventh century, the sources place in this
phase the arrival in Tarquinia of the Corinthian noble Demaratus, with craftsmen in
his entourage.25
In practice, these phases of trade in Etruria seem to have been centered on gift
exchange an economic as well as a ritualized process.26 This model of trade, which
was common among their Greek trading partners, is based on mechanisms of reci-
procity27 and presupposes a parity—generally at a socially elevated level—of the
partners. In this type of commerce—prexis in Greek—the production of resources (e.g.
from the land) and the sale of surplus are substantially identical.28 The donors’ dedi-
cations frequently inscribed on the precious objects and ceramic ware conform to this
model.29 A vase found in a tomb in Tarquinia dating from around 630 bore mention
of a “rutile hipucrates”30 whose onomastic formula undoubtedly denotes the Greek
aristocratic name Hippocrates preceded by the Latin name Rutilius, probably given
to him in the individual’s Etruscan place of residence (Fig. 47.2a).31 The “aristocratic”
model of production and trade likely persisted at least until 590–580, when a vessel—
believed to have been sailing between Etruria and Eastern Greece (Ionia), with ports
of call at Corinth and possibly Pithecusa—sank off the Isola del Giglio.32 The objects
found on board indicate that the naukleros (the captain, and possibly also owner of
the craft) and crew, probably natives of an Ionian city, enjoyed writing and quite pos-
sibly also music.
24 Enei 2001, 52–3.

25 Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 3. 46; Strabo 5.2.2; 8.6.20; Val. Max. 3.4.2.
26 An interesting overview in Weber 2000, 86–88.
27 In the standard classification of economic relations by Karl Polanyi (1977, 38–43): a) reciprocity
(exchange between equals); b) redistribution (exchange managed by a centralized structure, whether
state or sovereign); c) market exchange (prices fixed autonomously).
28 Mele 1979; Ampolo 1984, 473-74 on the circulation of goods within an aristocratic society possessing
essentially agrarian resources.
29 Cristofani 1984.
30 TLE 155.
31 Following Torelli 1997, 132.
32 For the reconstruction of the cargo and the route of the Giglio wreck: Cristofani 1995 and Colonna
2006a; on the possibility that Ionian bowls had been taken aboard at Pithecusa: Gras 2000, 146.

5 The emporic phase (sixth century)

By the time between seventh and sixth centuries the transformation was under way.
The rise and fall in the fortunes of Etruscan bucchero ware is a good example of the
dynamics of development in Etruscan societies starting in the last decades of the
seventh century.33 In the first phase (680–630) such ware began to be exported from
Caere towards southern and maritime Etruria, with very few craftsmen involved. From
630, ateliers proliferated particularly in southern Etruria (Caere, Vulci, Tarquinia) and
their products were exported over a large area, stretching from Marseille to Carthage
to the Nile delta. This boom attained spectacular proportions in the Late Orientalizing
period (610–580).
During the sixth century, manufacturing was the protagonist of many significant
changes in Etruscan cities, where it had acquired autonomy, no longer at the service
of the princeps but rather catering for public requirements (such as the construction
of temples). The production of surplus and the circulation of goods involved ever-
broader segments of the population that gained visibility in the topographical and
architectonic organization of towns and necropolises (Orvieto).34 At Caere, the crafts-
men’s quarter in the area of the Vigna Parrocchiale was found to contain pigments
and various waste materials, proving that glass, iron and copper were all worked
here.35 At Populonia, structures for iron working were in use from the second half of
the sixth through to the first half of the fifth century.36
In parallel, Etruscan trade took on features that can be described as specialized
or “emporic,” reflecting an evolution that also affected Greek cities, which were con-
stant trading partners of the Etruscan world in the sixth century.37 To give the briefest
outline of what is the subject of immense debate, the emporium is a place for trade
separate from the urban community but subject to its juridical and political control, a
fixed and often obligatory port of call in a trading process and finally somewhere that
undergoes an influx of foreigners. Our knowledge of the emporic phenomenon in the
archaic and classical Mediterranean owes much to archaeological research carried
out along the Tyrrhenian coast over the last fifty years, in particular at Gravisca, the
port for Tarquinia, founded at the beginning of the sixth century, and at Pyrgi, the port
for Caere, founded around the end of the seventh–early sixth century.38 The two ports
have certain features in common. Both were the point of convergence for cosmopoli-
tan trading carried out over great distances. The Ionian component predominates at
33 Gran-Aymerich 1993, 20–23.

34 Colonna 1976, Torelli 1997.
35 Giolj Guidi and Trojsi 2001.
36 Martelli 1981.
37 Excellent reconstruction in Lombardo 1997.
38 See Cristofani 1983, 118–122 (Pyrgi); Torelli 1997, 148–153 (Gravisca).

Gravisca in the first quarter of the sixth century, while in the second and third, there is
a higher incidence of East-Greek and Laconian ceramic ware. From the fourth quarter
of the sixth century, the Aeginian component began to predominate at Gravisca, as
can be deduced from epigraphs, in particular the unique dedication by Sostratos to
Apollo Aeginas, dating from about 510 (Fig. 35.12). This may be the merchant Sostra-
tos cited by Herodotus (4.152), and also the same person who left his signature in the
emporium of Naucratis. If so, in view of the quantity of trademarks found at Gravisca,
he was the Greek merchant responsible for bringing “from Athens to Etruria (…) more
pots than any other individual.”39 Other graffiti illustrate the variety of ethnic compo-
nents in this emporium: Ionians and Aeginians, of course, but also Corinthians and
Achaeans.40 At Pyrgi, the foreign component is Phoenician, probably from Carthage
itself, as indicated by the exceptional record of the inscriptions on the golden plaques
found in Temple B, dating from the beginning of the fifth century (Fig. 35.2). The text,
inscribed in Etruscan and Punic, states that Thefarie Velianas, the king of Caere, con-
secrated a temple to the female divinity Uni-Astarte, who was worshipped by both
the local and the Phoenician (probably Carthaginian) communities. These texts show
three important things. The first is the ability to set up strategies and alliances. Aris-
totle (Pol. 3.5.10–11, 1280a) knew of the existence of conventions (graphai) between
Etruscans and Carthaginians concerning the goods that could be imported and forms
of mutual alliance. The second is the active intervention of a political figure—Thefarie
Velianas—to create the conditions that would encourage the arrival of foreign mer-
chants and the development of trade. The third is that in these Tyrrhenian ports, as
at the major Greek emporium of Naucratis in Egypt, the divinity played a vital role in
the reception of foreigners and in underwriting commercial dealings. In the case of
Etruria, the divinity took over the functions that in the Orientalizing society had been
performed by the princeps.41
In this phase the trading network became very widespread. In Italy, exporta-
tions from Etruria itself and from Etruscan Northern Campania (Capua) were directed
above all towards the aristocracies of the Peucetians and Daunians, taking advantage
of internal river-borne routes (along the Calore-Sele).42 Etruscan sea-borne destina-
tions involved not only the traditional Tyrrhenian area, stretching from the Gulf of
Lion to Carthage (as shown by the wine amphoras from Vulci and Caere), but also
Central Europe and the eastern Mediterranean (Fig. 10.2). Further afield Etruscan
trade went as far as North-Eastern Iberia43 and regularly to the South of France, from
where Etruscan objects found their way to Celtic aristocracies in the hinterland.
39 Johnston 2000, 15–6.

40 Johnston 2000, 50.
41 Torelli 1997, 147; Colonna 2010, 282–86.
42 D’Ercole 2002, 240–60 and chapter 80 Tagliamonte.
43 Botto and Vives-Ferrandiz 2006, 146.

Fig. 10.2: Main types of Etruscan trade

amphoras (after Py 1985, fig. 2)
The forms of contact and mobility arising out of exchanges began to multiply.
The most ancient inscription left by an Etruscan craftsmen (from Vulci?) was found at
Saint-Blaise, in the South of France, and dates from the middle of the sixth century.44
In the settlement of Lattes, a dramatic increase in the presence of Etruscan amphoras
and scripts occurred during the last quarter of the sixth century.45 Between the third
quarter of the seventh and the mid sixth century, direct contacts may explain the pres-
ence of bucchero ware (Fig. 88.3) and Etruscan-Corinthian vases (twenty specimens
in all) found at Carthage, the latter probably made at Vulci and Tarquinia.46 Personal
relationships—possibly deriving from more ancient forms of contact and exchange—
appear at least in part to be codified in the so-called tesserae hospitales. These objects,
evidence of twinning arrangements to be exhibited on arrival in a foreign port, have
been found at various places throughout the Tyrrhenian area, from the emporic sanc-
44 Sourisseau 2003, 65, 70.

45 Landes 2003, 129–30.
46 Naso 2006a, 187–90 and chapter 88 Naso.

tuary of Sant’Omobono at Rome (an ivory miniature lion mentioning an Etruscan),

to the necropolis of Santa Monica at Carthage (a tessera inscribed in Etruscan men-
tioning “a Punic of Carthage”) (Fig. 88.4).47 In some cases, we have evidence of the
involvement of Etruscans in Greek commercial dealings, as for example two genera-
tions of merchants from Vulci who were active between 560 and 500, appear to have
participated in the commerce of Attic pottery, using the “trademark” fa(ltu) found
painted or more often scratched on vases.48 Greeks are known to have been assidu-
ous visitors to Etruscan sites. The presence of Etruscan bucchero ware at Samos and
Miletus in the second half of the sixth century may be due to personal dedications by
Etruscans49 or more likely Greeks,50 as the rare inscriptions found on bucchero are
always written in the Greek alphabet. Southern Etruria, above all, continued to attract
Aegean craftsmen, often coming from Ionia. The famous hydriae from Caere, a small
group of vases manufactured between 530 and 500 by Ionian craftsmen who were in
residence at Caere,51 are an example of these processes. A Greek with the Etruscan-
ized name Larth Telicles, cited in the inscription on an Orientalizing aryballos in buc-
chero, may have been involved in the local perfume industry.52
6 Transformations and epilogue

(fifth–fourth centuries)
In the Italic peninsula, the fifth century was a period of major social and political
changes, also in macro-historical terms. One can think of the fall of Sibari in 510 and
the downfall of the last Etruscan dynast in Rome in 509. Etruscan society responded
in different ways to this situation, reflecting regional and urban diversities. Social
conflicts took up much of the fifth century, although there was no single chronology
or modality.53 As a rule, we can say that the economic system in the southern cities
took more of a battering. To go back to the case of the rural area of Caere, there was
a “marked contraction of the rural settlement” (from 113 to 55 sites) in the fifth and
fourth centuries, and an analogous contraction can be seen in the ager cosanus, near
Vulci.54 These transformations had a strong impact on trade. After the phase of monu-
47 Cristofani 1983, 66, fig. 40; Naso 2006a, 190; Maggiani 2006.
48 Colonna 2006b, 10, note 6; StEtr 69, 2003, 370 (= REE 76).
49 Naso 2000, 176.
50 Naso and Trojsi 2009 and chapter 87 Naso.
51 Hemelrijk 2009, with previous bibliography.
52 Colonna 1976, 9; followed by Bellelli 2008, 233, 235, note 61. For the oil production in Etruria:
Barbieri, Ciacci, and Zifferero 2010.
53 Torelli 1997, 213.
54 Enei 2001, 58–59. For ager cosanus, Perkins 2002, 79–82.

mentalization in 470, the sanctuary and emporium of Gravisca appears to regress to

an essentially local dimension. On the other hand, the crisis did not affect Po Valley
Etruria in the least. In the fifth century, it actually experienced an enormous economic
and cultural development,55 with a large throughput of people and goods. At the end
of the sixth century, Felsina (Bologna) looked like a new city, almost as if it had been
“refounded,”56 the importation of the highest quality Attic vases soared in the years
475–450.57 In the western sector, the thriving emporium of Alalia in Corsica seems to
display analogous features, with the site being intensely frequented and yielding a
great variety of products.58 The Po Plain sector (Adria, Spina, Marzabotto) became an
authentic powerhouse of both local resources (wheat, salt and hides) and craft (in
bronze and amber) products, capable of fueling exchanges with various regions of
the Greek world—especially Attica, as is evident from the wealth of imports of figured
and black varnish pottery, but also Corinth, Samos and Chios (amphoras for wine and
oil) and southern Italy (“Greek-Italic amphoras”).59 Both Spina and Alalia give the
impression of being prosperous settlements characterized by a mixed culture, Etrus-
can but also Greek and indigenous, Celtic and Italic in Corsica, Umbro-Venetian in
the Po Plain. In both cases, onomastics reveal a weakness or lack of the gentilitial
nomen, typical of the aristocracy, and the presence of a very dynamic middle class
that appears to have controlled trading in complete autonomy. This could explain
why Spina was defined as a “polis” by Strabo (5.1.7). The first onomastic attestations
of Alalia are Kaile and Klavtie, dating from the mid fifth century; either one could
denote an origin from Caere.60 The grave goods of the population of Spina display
great wealth, which justifies the tradition that exists in some ancient texts concern-
ing a dedication by a native of Spina in the sanctuary at Delphi.61 Certainly relations
were maintained with the political class of the hinterland. The stele of Vel Kaikna,
a member of one of the most important families of Felsina, features a warship and
alludes to the office of a magistrate who may have been engaged in the protection of
the ports at Spina (Fig. 61.1). But such relations probably indicate forms of territorial
integration between Felsina, Spina and other centers in Po Plain Etruria, rather than
the relationship of dependence.62
Diversity continued to characterize the Etruscan world in the fourth century, when
Rome began its systematic conquest of Etruscan territories. Manufacturing tended to
have a local circulation, with only a few centers of ceramic production (Volterra, Tar-
55 Sassatelli 2005, 238–43.

56 Macellari 2005, 295–96.
57 Govi 2005, 311.
58 See chapter 84 Jehasse.
59 Sassatelli 2005, 238–45.
61 Strabo 5.1.7; 9.3.8; Plin. HN 3, 120; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 1.18. See chapter 87 Naso.
62 Sassatelli 2005, 241; 252.

quinia) managing to go beyond the local sphere. The Etruscan cities began to mint
coins (in gold, silver and bronze) in the last quarter of the fifth and the first decade
of the fourth century. However, this innovation was restricted to the individual cities.
Only the currency issued in Populonia succeeded in establishing itself on a wider
circuit during the fourth century.63 At the same time, some large tombs appear to indi-
cate that land ownership was in the hands of a few elite groups. These fertile lands
were taken over by the Roman plebs when Veii was conquered in 396, and owned by
rich Roman citizens when Tiberius Graccus visited an almost entirely deserted south-
ern Etruria in 133.
7 Exchange commodities
One of the typical features of Etruscan trade was the ability to dominate and control
a very extensive network of exchange commodities, ranging from staple goods (biotos
in Greek) to the most varied and exotic luxury items. This ability invariably went hand
in hand with a technological expertise that excelled at luxury products.
Commerce in metals illustrates the complexity of Etruscan production and
exchange networks. Etruscans are known to have exported crude or semi-crude metal
in the form of ingots, as exemplified by the copper bars found in the shipwreck of the
Isola del Giglio, dating from 590–580. They also exported manufactured products,
above all tableware (Schnabelkannen, basins with beaded rims, infundibula), to the
Italic peninsula (Campania, Daunia64) and Celtic settlements in the South of France
and Central Europe. As personal dedications, Etruscan metal implements associated
with the symposium traveled as far afield as the major Greek sanctuaries (Olympia,
Samos, Miletus).65 But this was not a one-way migration. In spite of the richness of the
Etruscan mineral deposits, it must have been necessary to import metal to maintain
such a major production. The wrecked ship of Rochelongue, which sank off Gaul in
the mid sixth century, contained more than 1,700 bronze objects and copper bars,
dating at the latest from the mid sixth century. This cargo was probably intended
as payment for supplies of wine from Vulci and Cerveteri.66 Although to date, little
work has been done on it, the dissemination of tin was also important, since it was
essential for the production of bronze and could be procured only in a few regions of
Europe (Cornwall, Brittany, northwestern Spain, northeastern Germany, and Croatia).
63 Panvini Rosati 1976, 31, 37; Cristofani 1986, 144. See chapter 27 Catalli.
64 D’Ercole 2002, 240–60.
65 Bronze graters probably used in banquet rituals: Naso 2000, 181. See chapter 13 Kistler.
66 Garcia 1995, 160.

In this connection the presence of a tin cheese grater in a tomb at Spina is a very sig-
nificant indication.67
Wine was a true dynamo of trade in the Mediterranean, and one of the chief com-
modities to be exported from archaic Etruria. In brief, we can observe that a recogniz-
able circuit for the distribution of Etruscan wine was in place from the beginning of
the sixth century, serving essentially the South of France, the Iberian sector and also
stretching further north towards the Celtic world. Some vessels give a good idea of the
scope of this trade. The so-called Grand Ribaud F had a cargo of 800–1,000 amphoras
probably originating in the region of Caere. It was traditionally thought that Etruscan
trade in Gaul declined with the foundation of Marseille, and did not persist beyond the
middle of the sixth century. However, recent finds have shown that it continued until
the end of the fifth if not into the fourth century, even though the general conditions
did change when Marseille became a center to be reckoned with from 450.68
Together with the exportation of wine went the dissemination of Etruscan table
customs. These enjoyed considerable prestige even in the Aegean, where Etruscan
wine did not arrive very commonly, if at all. To date, only one Etruscan amphora has
been found at Miletus (Fig. 14.1), while a number of fragments of bowls in bucchero
dating from the sixth century have been found in sanctuaries (e.g. that of Aphrodite)
as dedicatory offerings, possibly by Greek merchants who had had contact with Etrus-
can communities.69 The form of these bowls is very informative—they are kantharoi,
sometimes very large (“giant-kantharoi”). First appearing in Etruria in the third
quarter of the seventh century, the bucchero kantharos of this shape is the emblem of
the vases used by Etruscans to serve wine, and is systematically found accompany-
ing exportations of Etruscan amphoras towards Southern France until the middle of
the sixth century.70 Furthermore, this vase is not the only indication of the extent of
the Etruscan commercial network and of the appeal of a model that was cultural as
well as economic. In the second half of the sixth century, bronze funnels (lat. infun-
dibula) probably manufactured at Volsinii and Vulci were the most common Etruscan
bronze implement throughout the Mediterranean, from Carthage to Cyrene and on to
the Aegean world, where they were imported by Greek merchants.71
Wine and oil are not enough to explain the complexity of trading around the
Mediterranean and on the mainland; the reality was undoubtedly more composite.72
According to Diodorus of Sicily (5.13.3–5; 14.1), at the time of their Tyrrhenian thalas-
socracy, the Etruscans went to Corsica to stock up on resin, wax and honey. Corsica
67 Negrioli 1924, 300.

68 Dedet and Py 2006, 139.
69 Naso and Trojsi 2009, 137–39.
70 Gras 1984.
71 As has been pointed out by Naso 2006a, 191–92; Naso 2006b, 367–70.
72 See overview given by Nash Briggs 2003.

was famous for its animal husbandry, and also for slaves. The Etruscan cargo ship-
wrecked off the Isola del Giglio contained pine nuts, which are a spicy food with high
nutritional value. Other quality goods had more specialized circuits. Perfumes began
to be used in Etruria from the beginning of the Orientalizing period, as shown by the
first importations of Cypriot, Eastern Greek and Rhodian vases identified in southern
Etruria (Caere and Vulci). This phenomenon really took off between 630–580.73 It is
likely that perfumes were also produced locally, since there was a flourishing industry
of oil vases—the so-called Etruscan-Corinthian aryballoi—manufactured at Caere and
widely exported in the first half of sixth century. Such vases are found throughout
southern Etruria as far as Cumae and Carthage and down the Italic peninsula (Sabins,
Faliscans, Picenians).74 They do not seem to have been exported to Gaul, which points
to a substantial autonomy in the orientation of trade.75
The trading of textiles is likely to have taken several routes, both regional and
further afield. Some imports of linen probably came to Etruria from other Italian
regions such as the Po Valley and Campania.76 Although it is an isolated case, the
surprising discovery of fragments of cashmere in the Etruscan settlement of Lattes
could be interesting evidence of trade with central Asia.77 On the other hand, some
Etruscan fibulae in bronze and amber common in Central Italy (Verucchio) reached
the sanctuary of Artemis in Ephesus during the seventh century.78 As Verucchio was a
flourishing center of textile production, some of these personal ornaments could have
traveled with textiles.
8 Open issues
The summary nature of all this information should not mask the complexity of the
questions we have been considering. For example, not only was there a gradual
passage from the type of aristocratic commerce to the specialized emporium, but the
two patterns could at times overlap. Moreover, many topics can give rise to new inter-
pretations and be modified by archaeological and epigraphic discoveries. What were
the interactions between Etruscan and Phoenician trading?79 Was the first influx of
73 Bellelli 2008, 228–28.

74 For a summary of this question: Bellelli 2008, 232–33.
75 Camporeale 2006, 15.
76 Gleba 2008, 195.
77 Landes 2003, 136–37.
78 Naso 2000.
79 Botto and Vives-Ferràndiz 2006 emphasizes the growing Etruscan involvement in the western
sector from the beginning of the sixth century, following the decline of the Phoenician navy towards
the end of the previous century.

commercial activity towards southern France Greek or Etruscan? When can we date

the last forms of Etruscan presence in these regions? These have all been the objects
of recent studies and debates that will certainly help us achieve a better understand-
ing of the Ancient Mediterranean. There are two open issues in particular. The first
is whether the Etruscans were directly involved in the sea-borne conveyance of
their products or if they called on intermediaries (Phoenician, Ionians, Aeginians,
etc.). Recently, Patrice Pomey has called attention to the archaeological “invisibil-
ity” of Etruscan vessels, which suggests that they might have used intermediaries.80
However, this is to argue ex silentio, and new discoveries may well disprove this sug-
gestion. In the same conference proceedings, Giovanni Colonna made a good case
for the direct involvement of Etruscans in maritime traffic by illustrating the great
mobility of Tyrrhenian merchants.81 It appears unlikely that this far-flung circulation
of men and goods could have taken place entirely on foreign-owned vessels, but for
the moment, it remains unresolved.82 This investigation touches on one of the classic
topics in the history of commerce in the ancient world—namely, the role of intermedi-
aries and the practice of leasing means of transport. After all, this practice was at the
heart of the Athenian practice of maritime loans, well documented in the speeches of
Greek orators from the second half of the fifth century.83
One surprising feature of Etruscan trade is the fact that it was able to develop
for centuries without minting coinage, even though it involved a circuit of exchanges
extending over most of the Mediterranean. Etruscan coinage only appeared quite late,
and had a local circulation, whereas counterparts had long been in circulation in
Greece, southern Italy, Carthage and Rome. We also only know of rare episodes of the
hoarding of foreign coins (with just a few exceptions, for example at Volterra84 and
Pyrgi85). This suggests that most Etruscan trading did not involve monetary exchange
but was based on other forms of payment. It is likely that a fundamental role in the
assessment of value was played by the weight of metals. The letters inscribed on the
metals in the deposit of San Francesco in Bologna, from the seventh century, are
probably an indication of calculations of this sort.86 A century later, the bars of metal
known as “with dry branch” probably served a function in “trading requisites,” even
though it is difficult to place them in a system of weights and measures. Guaranteed
by the hallmark, these ingots had a vast circulation (from Sicily and Campania to
80 Pomey 2006, 427–30.

81 Colonna 2006a.
82 For a very balanced appraisal see Morel 2006, 32–34.
83 Aprosio 1987.
84 Morel 2006, 42, note 6.
86 Bentini 2005, 199.

the Po Plain and the eastern Adriatic), which testifies to their reliability.87 But there
may also have been other systems of value equivalence, based for example on the
capacity of some forms of ceramic ware. The role of “vase-étalon” has been attributed
to the bucchero kantharos.88 There remains the possibility that this function may
have been performed by Attic vases (e.g. lekythoi), found in some cases to feature
numerical marks, for example at Spina. The letters and numbers imprinted on the
archaic Greek amphoras found in Po Plain emporia have been associated with the city
of provenance—e.g. “S(icyon ?),” on a Corinthian amphora, “A” from Marzabotto—or
interpreted as an indication of capacity, above all for the Chiote amphoras, whose
contents was subject to variations.89
More generally, we have to consider why the Etruscan cities should have been
unwilling to mint coinage. Some scholars have pointed out that money appeared as an
internal solution to the crisis of the Etruscan economical system. In fact, the marked
differences in ponderal systems shows the lack of political unity, and undoubtedly
detracted from its economic effectiveness.90 But we can also wonder whether such
a belated appearance may not have been the outcome of a political design aimed at
containing the forms of social mobility that the introduction of coinage entails. We
should not forget that in Plato’s ideal city, coinage was to serve only for day-to-day,
local purposes,91 and that according to Xenophon,92 the circulation of coinage was
practically impossible in oligarchic Sparta. It is significant that the great majority
of pre-monetary ingots (50%, no less) came from the Po Plain, precisely the area in
which, from the sixth century onwards, the social transformations brought about by
manufacturing and mercantile activities were most evident.93
These considerations suggest that the economic history of the Etruscans is itself
currently a highly dynamic sector. Yet one fact has been securely established. To adopt
the elegant expression of Jean-Paul Morel the Etruscans have taken their place in the
company of mariners, merchants, and perhaps also colonial settlers and immigrant
residents of the northwestern Mediterranean,94 and indeed, of the Mediterranean tout
court.
87 Cristofani 1986, 140–41, pl. XX; Pellegrini and Macellari 2002.

88 Gras 1984, 329.
89 Sacchetti 2009, 58–59 (Marzabotto); 60–62 (Chios).
90 Panvini Rosati 1976, 31.
91 Pl. Leg. 742 a.
92 Xen. Lac. 7, 4–6.
93 Pellegrini and Macellari 2002, 164–68. A whole specimen (ca. 2900 gr.) was found in the settlement
at Marzabotto, in a structure probably used as a workshop (Pellegrini and Macellari 2002, 266).
94 Morel 2006, 44.

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Markus Egg
11 War and Weaponry
Abstract: The development of armaments and warfare in Etruria can best be followed through the
tombs of warriors. In the ninth–eighth centuries BCE, there arose independent armaments that were
strongly influenced by central European traditions, which can best be shown through helmet shapes
and the antenna sword. Beginning in the seventh century, influence of the Greek art of war—includ-
ing the phalanx tactic—increased in Etruria. The Etruscans adopted the hoplites’ shield and the flex-
ible greaves, and probably also linen armor. Here and there Greek helmet shapes were taken over as
well, but the Etruscan armorers from the seventh to the third centuries always developed their own
helmet types, clearly distinct from the Greek forms. In the fourth century, the successful occupation
of northern Italy made the influence of Celtic weaponry noticeable to some extent. Etruscans adopted
the iron sword and helmet of the victorious Celts. The Etruscan artisans adapted the iron helmet to
their own preferred material, bronze. With the subjection of the Etruscan cities to the Romans in the
third and second centuries, the independent Etruscan tradition of war disappeared and with it the
weapon-tombs as well.
Keywords: Helmet, Spear, Greave, Sword
1 “War makes the man” in the ancient world

War played an entirely different role in ancient Italy than it does today on account of
the numerous martial conflicts, since the army was of fundamental importance for
the survival of a society. In contrast to today, the business of war was highly regarded,
and bravery in battle counted as the highest manly virtue. It constituted one of the few
possibilities for transcending the mostly very narrow social boundaries of the distinct
social classes. Military success, just like wealth, ambition, shrewdness, and rhetorical
ability, was an essential prerequisite for a leading position in politics. War was deadly
serious and was the cruelest and most fearsome challenge that men faced. Because in
the ancient world plunder was not as today forbidden, but an integral part or some-
times even the purpose of military undertakings, war also brought the possibility of
achieving economic success. Thus in ancient times war exuded a certain fascination,
so that the Greek philosopher Heraclitus even called war the “father of all things.”
Ancient Greece was also acquainted with the bitter side of war and not for nothing is
it always accompanied in the Iliad by the adjective “man-killing.”
It is not so simple to draw up a history of war, and hence also of warriors,
using the tools of archaeology. Finds that directly illuminate the events of war are
extremely rare. Normally, the corpses of the losers were burned or turned over to the
wild animals and thus lost forever. Traces of their ultimate sacrifice are therefore
scarce. A further possibility for interpreting pre- and proto-historic war is contem-
porary representations of battle and warriors. But these must not be understood
as direct reflections of reality, since early pictures mostly deal with a mythological
166 Markus Egg
or idealized image, representing the combat of various ancestors, heroes, or even

gods. The study of “instruments of war”—weapons—also permits drawing conclu-
sions about the nature of ancient war. Besides isolated finds, weapons appear in
dedicatory finds. These dedications of weapons in ancient times, called Gk. tropaia
(trophies), are closely related to military events. With good reason, they are inter-
preted as the dedication of weapons seized in battle to the honor of the divinities
that supported the victors.
What we encounter much more often is the warriors themselves in their graves.
Since warriors enjoyed high status, it was usual to bury their weapons alongside them,
so that in the afterlife their warrior status could be recognized. It can be assumed that
by and large in archaic societies, one took on the same role in the afterlife as in the
here and now. Weapons of course are used to kill people, but the brutal moments of
their use are in fact swift and short. Because of the high esteem of war in many archaic
societies, weapons were often provided with military insignia and symbols of power,
often richly ornamented, for the purpose of self-representation during the owners’
lifetime as well as in funerary use. To what extent these claims of warrior status in
the grave necessarily corresponded to reality—or reflected a somewhat idealized and
distorted image—will not be considered here.
The consistent production of iron began in Italy in the ninth or eighth century BCE.
This new material had serious consequences for the conduct of war. Not only is iron
harder than bronze, but iron ore is much more common in nature than copper or even
tin. Much more extensive segments of the population could therefore be equipped
with metal weapons, and men of warrior rank could have made an ever greater claim
to power within any individual society. The replacement of bronze in the context of
offensive weapons was not sudden, but gradual. Beginning in the late eighth century,
iron offensive weapons—such as swords and lance—dominated the battlefield. But
bronze remained the prevailing material for defensive equipment such as helmets.
2 The Villanovan period (1000–730 BCE)

Curiously, the development of weapons in Iron Age central Italy begins not with ordi-
nary weapons, but with miniaturized specimens or clay models. The earliest indica-
tions of weapons as grave goods are found in some graves from Lavinium and Santa
Palomba in Latium.1 A set of miniature weapons was found in the tenth-century Grave
21 from Lavinium, consisting of a lance, a dagger, a knife, a pair of greaves, and two
figure-eight shields. We may suppose that the deceased was a warrior and entered into
1 Colonna 1991; Borgna 1993; De Santis 2011 (Santa Palomba and Lavinium). See chapter 79 Naso.

11 War and Weaponry 167
the afterlife as such, but his family was not quite ready to surrender actual weapons
for his benefit.
The clay helmets from the Villanovan period are quite similar.2 These too sub-
stituted for the valuable metal helmets. They were used as lids for the urns and pre-
sumably also characterized the deceased as outstanding warriors. The clay helmets
often represent very early helmet designs and lead us to suspect that at first only clay
helmets were placed on the urns and not until later, beginning about 800, were metal
helmets used (Fig. 11.1).
From the late ninth through the eighth century, grave goods increase from gen-
eration to generation and a real race sets in for more and more elaborately furnished
graves, which eventually peaked in the princely graves of the Orientalizing period.3
This development reflects the rise of an elite from simple circumstances to the rich
princely graves. At the latest, from the time of the erection of the first princely tombs,
the Etruscans were successfully participating in maritime trade.4
During the late ninth century, metal weapons appear in the tombs of the Villano-
van culture. These are short bronze flange-hilted swords (Ger. Griffzungenschwerter)
with T-shaped pommel, and lance points.5 In the eighth century, the Italic antenna
sword of the Tarquinian type develops, which emerged from central European
models.6 In the late Villanovan period, daggers as well as lance heads were more and
more often made of iron. Lances took center stage to a somewhat greater extent in the
late Villanovan period. The points became longer and often had a faceted socket, and
the shafts were provided at the other end with an often likewise faceted ferrule. In
addition, the shaft was occasionally wound with coils of bronze wire. The peak was
reached by a lance from the rich warrior’s Tomb 871 of the Grotta Gramiccia necropo-
lis at Veii, whose shaft is alternately surrounded with spirals and studded with bronze
nails.7 Even the pouch for the slingshots were made of wire and nailed to the shaft.
These especially distinctive lances remained in use during the Orientalizing period.
In the eighth century, bronze defensive equipment also appears in burials, above
all in the form of bronze helmets,8 which (as the clay helmets had been) were placed as
a lid on the urns. Most common are the striking crested helmets with towering bronze
crests; helmets with knobs and helmets with simple dome-shaped caps appear also in
Etruria. All these types of helmets come from Central European models from the Late
Bronze Age. Crested helmets were preferred in western Central Europe, knob helmets
in the Carpathian basin, and cap helmets were worn in between in southern Germany.
2 von Hase 1988; Raddatz 1996.

3 See the list in Strøm 1971, 141–71.
4 See Camporeale 1969.
5 Bianco Peroni 1970, 82–96.
7 Müller-Karpe 1974.
8 von Merhart 1940; Hencken 1971; von Hase 1988; Iaia 2005.

168 Markus Egg
Fig. 11.1: Chronological development of Etruscan helmets

(drawing M. Ober, RGZM).
The Italic representatives are also distinguished from their Central European prede-
cessors by a few technical details and their very much richer decorative bosses.
Around the middle of the eighth century, the decorated Villanovan shield devel-
oped.9 This is a round shield of sheet bronze with a low boss in the middle. The grip
is on the back behind the boss and in addition four arches or loops were riveted to
the shield to take rattling pendants.10 The shield was more than a defensive item and
insigne; it could also make noise, possibly in connection with ritually motivated war
dances. Into the Roman period, connected pairs of these Villanovan shields, being the
9 Geiger 1994, 29ff.

10 Geiger 1994, 13ff.

sacred Shields of Mars, led the processions and dances of the Salii, a Roman priestly
collegium.11 The decoration of the still quite small shields in the Villanovan period
was limited to circles of bosses, circular bulges, groups of lines, and images of horses.
The bronze Villanovan shields made of thin sheets of bronze were not very effective
defensive equipment and appear to have served more as indications of status. That
much more effective shields made of organic material must have existed is shown by
some depictions of a large oval shield, known as the scutum, which counted as the
preferred defensive paraphernalia of Italy until Roman times.12
In the late Villanovan period, body armor consisted of rectangular plates of armor
worn on the chest. The bronze plates that are more or less firmly attached along the
long sides were fastened to the upper body with leather straps. This form of body
armor still persists in the following Orientalizing period.
Figural representations, such as horse tripods,13 demonstrate that Villanovan
warriors fought not only on foot, but also mounted on steeds.
Villanovan defensive items are found not only in Etrurian tombs, but also in
Greek sanctuaries, such as Olympia and Delphi.14 They are very likely traces of mili-
tary encounters between Etruscans and Greek colonists, who had settled in southern
Italy in the eighth century. Captured weapons were dedicated to the gods by the victo-
rious Hellenes in Greek sanctuaries.
3 The Orientalizing period (730–580 BCE)

The Orientalizing period brings serious alterations in weaponry, while at the same
time several traditions were preserved. The Villanovan shields are included among
the traditional elements in the new period.15 Shields became ever bigger and often
lost their grips; they had become a symbol that could no longer be used in battle.
The “Tomb of the Shields and Chairs” in Caere illustrates that these shields were
hung over a throne in ceremonial spaces and served only “heraldic” purposes any
more16. At the same time the scutum continued to be an important component of
weaponry.
Figural representations, such as the stela of Aule Feluske in Vetulonia,17 show
that during the seventh century, Etruscan warriors had adopted the Greek hoplite
11 Colonna 1991.
12 Stary 1981a; Eichberg 1987.
13 Nachbaur 2011.
14 Kilian 1977; Naso 2006.
15 Geiger 1994, 83–108.
16 Proietti 1986, 122–23.
17 Poccetti 1997; Bol 1989.

170 Markus Egg
shield, a round shield constructed from wood, leather, and sheet bronze. This shield
with two shield handles made possible the phalanx tactic developed by the Greeks, in
which dense rows of heavily armed foot soldiers face each other.18 The Chigi vase (an
olpe), made in Greece and discovered in Veii in southern Etruria, represents one of the
oldest illustrations of this new and very effective battlefield technique.19 Every soldier
in the offensive line uses the shield to cover not only himself, but also his neighbor to
the left, which led to a highly consistent approach to battle, since if a soldier deserted
from the line, he exposed his comrades, a capital offense. There arose an uncompro-
mising battle tactic, which demanded ironclad obedience and unconditional com-
radeship. To this battlefield tactic the Greeks owed many victories over barbarian
enemies, and it stands to reason that the Etruscans as well adopted this tactic during
the seventh century. The Corinthian helmet was also adopted in the seventh century
by Etruscan warriors, but only a few of these helmets, which are so characteristic of
the Greek hoplites, have been found in seventh-century Etruria. Yet another element
of the Greek hoplite armament, the flexible greave, also appears in Etruria for the first
time in the seventh century.20
Quite sporadically, the beginning of the Orientalizing period still yields the last
of the crested helmets, as in the “Tomb of the Throne” from Verucchio in the Roma
gna.21 These helmets have an oversized crest and like the late Villanovan shields are
no longer intended for military use. Not for nothing was a second helmet, a legitimate
defensive item, included in that “Tomb of the Throne.” It was a conical helmet with
a crest in the form of a horse’s mane, a type of helmet widely known in the area of
Caput Adriae. Orientalizing period Etruscans developed a new type of helmet in the
seventh century surrounded by a distinctive brim. Among the earliest representatives
are the buckle helmets,22 which have a semicircular dome with two buckles that cover
the rivets that secured the organic-material lining of the helmet and a turned-down
brim. The helmets were topped with a horse’s mane crest, just like the Greek helmets.
Alongside the buckle helmets there also still appear in Etruria helmets with compos-
ite cap,23 distinguished from the buckle helmets by construction from several plates,
but still included among the brimmed helmets. The early brimmed helmets, however,
do not play as significant a role among grave goods as the crested helmets, and they
primarily appear in northern Etruria.
Beginning in the Orientalizing period, offensive weapons were largely made of
iron. In close combat, Etruscan soldiers use iron daggers and large knives, whose
18 See Hanson 1991.

19 D’Acunto 2013.
20 Sannibale 2008, 228ff.
21 von Eles 2002, 167, pls. 75–76; Gentili 2003, 305 pls. 151–52. See chapter 76 von Eles.
22 Egg 1986, 6–19.
23 Esposito 1999, 52.

hafts are dressed up with sheet silver or made of ivory and amber, like those from
Tomb A from Casale Marittimo in Tuscany.24 Longswords also occasionally appear
in central Italy25 that are related to the Greek sword, the xiphos. Socketed iron axes
also take on special significance as weapons. From time to time the shafts of these
weapons are richly decorated, such as the examples from Tomb A from Casale Marit-
timo in Tuscany,26 which indicates that they were not merely weapons, but also major
status symbols. In the “Tomb of the Lictor” in Vetulonia there was even found an
iron double-headed axe with a bundle of rods,27 the sign of dignity, that in Rome was
borne before the important dignitaries. The canes were intended for clearing the path,
and the axe symbolized the right to impose the death penalty.
Orientalizing-period warriors’ tombs often include a two-wheeled wagon among
the grave goods.28 The currus is suspected of being used as a war chariot, without it
being possible to prove it. The many artistic metal fittings are not particularly appro-
priate to a war chariot; rather they must have pertained to the privilege of driving a
vehicle and with it the prestige that continued into Roman times in the form of the
triumphal procession. For a short time, the successful commander was granted the
originally royal right of the prestigious chariot. Figural representations in the Ori-
entalizing period depict scenes of battle wagons,29 although whether they represent
contemporary battle tactics or depict mythic heroes remains uncertain.
4 The Archaic period (580–450 BCE)

In the Archaic period, except for the helmets, Greek armaments and along with them
the tactic of the phalanx of hoplites ultimately prevailed in Etruria. Tendencies in
that direction could already be observed in the Orientalizing period. Although it is
not the case that in Italy no imported Greek weapons were in use, Etruscan artisans
developed their own Etruscan variations on Hellenic weaponry.
According to the testimony of pictorial representations, the Greek hoplite shield
became the Etruscan standard.30 There are also a few physical examples of wooden
shields covered with thin sheets of bronze from Etruria, as from the warriors’ tombs
24 Esposito 1999, 52–53.

25 Benelli and Naso 2003, 187–94.
26 Esposito 1999, 53–54.
27 Schätze der Etrusker 1986, 194 figs. p. 49.
28 Woytowitsch 1978, 25ff.; Emiliozzi 1997. See chapter 24 Emiliozzi.
29 Woytowitsch 1978, 80ff.
30 Stary 1981b, 123.

172 Markus Egg
from Vulci and Bomarzo.31 Alongside the Greek hoplite shield, the scutum remained
in use in Etruria; this is verified by the bronze mounting of a spindle-shaped central
rib of a scutum from Gualdo Tadino in Umbria32 as well as by a variety of depictions
elsewhere.
Flexible bronze greaves, other components of the phalanx tactic, are also part of
the normal equipment of warriors beginning in the Archaic period, and an impres-
sive number have been preserved in Etruscan tombs.33 The simple representation
of the musculature of the calf and the trim added to the edge to which the organic-
material lining was attached distinguish them from Greek models. Again according to
pictures, Etruscan soldiers preferred what is known as a linen cuirass, an originally
Greek defensive accoutrement made of organic material with characteristic shoulder
clasps,34 which because of their composition have virtually no chance of archaeo-
logical preservation. An especially good depiction of this defensive equipment with
shoulder clasps and wings over the hip area appears in a fresco of the hero Geryon in
the Tomb of the Orcus II in Tarquinia,35 although to be sure it comes from the succeed-
ing Hellenistic period.
The warrior’s tomb at Lanuvium in Latium is unusually equipped.36 In the first
half of the fifth century, a man was interred there in a stone sarcophagus with a
bronze helmet, a pair of greaves, a machaira (machete-like sword), and anatomic
cuirass. Current scholarship takes the anatomic cuirass to be a Greek development.
The breastplate and the back piece from Lanuvium, however, did not cover the entire
upper body; the shoulders and underarm area remained unprotected and bronze
bands connected the breast and back plates. The anatomic cuirass from Lanuvium
is thus not only one of the oldest of its kind, but also the predecessor of the South
Italic-Samnite armor of the Early Iron Age, which was largely held together with such
bronze bands.
Etruscan warriors occasionally wore disk armor, a feature especially widespread
in Picenum and the Abruzzo. Good examples are provided by a set of this disk armor
from Burial Mound 90 at Aleria on Corsica,37 an Etruscan colony on the island, and a
picture of a warrior in a fresco from Ceri not far from Caere in southern Etruria.38
Etruscan helmet manufacture followed the native tradition of brimmed helmets,
which does not mean that Greek-style helmets did not occur alongside them, albeit
31 Curti and Frapiccini 2003, 252 (Vulci); Baglione 1976, 143–44, no. 32; Buranelli and Sannibale 1998,
192–99, nos. 25–28 (Bomarzo).
32 Szabó 1995.
33 Sannibale 2008, 228–31.
34 Jarva 1995, 33–47.
35 Steingräber 1984, 334–36, pl. 129.
36 Zevi 1991.
37 Jehasse and Jehasse 1973, 55 pl. 148, 1815; Tomedi 2000, 49 pl. 54.
38 Proietti 1986, 150–51 cat. no. 60; Tomedi 2000, 20–21 fig. 8A.

in reduced numbers. The typical helmet of the Archaic period is called the Negau
helmet, after the findspot in Negova (Ger. Negau), Slovenia:39 it has a brim all the
way around with a surrounding seam, a groove at the base of the cap, and a ridged
cap, which lent the helmet special dependability. Above the ridge runs the soaring
horse’s mane crest. Helmets of this form have been found in considerable number in
Etruria, and in other provinces of Italy and in the Alps as well. The helmet deposit of
Vetulonia (“Mura dell’Arce”) is the largest find, comprising some 125 helmets of this
type.40 Fifty-five of the helmets carry the Etruscan inscription “belonging to Haspna,”
but we have no idea who Haspna was. It may be supposed that these helmets were
dedicated to the gods on the occasion of a military victory in Vetulonia. Two Negau
helmets, along with a Corinthian helmet, were dedicated to Zeus in Olympia bearing
inscriptions to the effect that the three helmets were seized in the maritime battle of
Cumae near Naples in 474 by the victorious Syracusans under Hieron of Syracuse.41
The fateful maritime victory at Cumae cost the Etruscans primacy over the Tyrrhenian
Sea.
Greek helmets, as opposed to Negau helmets, appear in quite limited numbers.
In the late Archaic period, Chalcidian helmets came more and more into favor. They
derive from a Greek form, but Etruscan craftsmen developed an Etrusco-Chalcidian
type, often with figural crest-holders.42 The most beautiful examples come from Vulci.
The forehead portion of one is decorated with a scene of the battle between Apollo
and Hercules around a tripod,43 and the cheek pieces of one from a tomb in Todi are
adorned with figures.44 This type of helmet is also frequent in Etruscan depictions,
continuing into the successive Hellenistic period.
Offensive weapons were made of iron almost exclusively. Alongside lance heads,
an important role was played by the longsword, corresponding to the Greek xiphos.
This period also saw the machaira, a single-edged slashing sword, which is also pre-
served in Greek weaponry.45 Axes no longer played any significant role among arma-
ments.
39 Egg 1986, 41–62; 1988, 244–54.

40 Pernier 1919, 13–16; Egg 1986, 207; Nedoma 1996.
41 Egg 1986, 198; Naso 2000, 202; Frielinghaus 2011:70.
42 Pflug 1988a, 149–50.
43 Adam 1984, 108–9.
44 Bergamini Simoni 2001, 219–20.
45 Stary 1981b, 84–85.

174 Markus Egg
5 The Classical and Hellenistic periods

(450–250 BCE)
In the Hellenistic period, the Greek arms components, such as the hoplite shield,
linen armor, and greaves, continued to be used, but alongside them appeared the
bronze anatomic cuirass, such as the one found among other things in the “Tomb of
the Warrior” in Orvieto-Settecamini.46 This protective gear covered the entire upper
body and reproduced the musculature of an athlete as “decoration.” Etruscan ana-
tomic cuirasses usually do not depict the nipples, which is distinct from southern
Italian examples that likewise principally date from the fourth century. Worthy of
mention, though unique, is the lamella cuirass worn by the “Mars” of Todi,47 a life-
size bronze statue of a warrior. Linen armor with shoulder plates has metal scales
sewn on in horizontal rows. The greaves of the Hellenistic period feature a realistic
representation of the musculature of the calves.
In helmets once again the Etruscans went their own way. After 400, the Negau
helmet appears only in a grandiose variant along the Ligurian and southern French
coast. In Umbria, there are many bronze helmets with forehead grooving,48 found
in different varieties. But bronze helmets with a knob at the top and a neck guard
became standard.49 This originally Celtic form, which in Celtic lands was made of
sheet iron and reached Italy with the Celtic invasion, was taken up by Etruscan crafts-
men and reworked in the Etruscans’ trusty material, bronze. The early examples from
the fourth century still have the typically Celtic cheek pieces with three cockades;
they derive from anatomically correct cheek pieces. These helmets were the standard
equipment not only for Etruscans, but also for Republican Romans. The spread of the
late variants in Sicily, southern France, and Spain is certainly connected with the rise
of Roman power in these regions. The late representatives of these helmets no longer
have cheek pieces.
Alongside the characteristically Greek longsword and machaira, the Celtic La
Tène sword with iron sheath was also included in Etruscan weaponry, taken over from
the Celtic tribes that had successfully invaded Italy.50
In Late Iron Age Etruria, there still appear offerings of weapons. The best exam-
ples come from the weapon deposit from Populonia–San Cerbone,51 which contained
a few helmets and a large number of iron weapons, especially spear and lance heads,
46 Adembri 1982, 77–78.

47 Bergamini Simoni 2001, 79ff.
48 Pflug 1988b.
49 Schaaff 1981; Mazzoli 2010.
50 Schönfelder 2010, 1.
51 Romualdi 2009.

and the deposit from Talamonaccio near Orbetello,52 which comprised a large number
of lance and javelin points.
The javelin points from Talamonaccio, which were part of Roman armaments,
indicate that during the third century, the Etruscans had lost their independence and
bore allegiance to the Romans. This brought an end to the independent development
of weaponry. Moreover, after the fourth century, weapons were hardly ever deposited
in Etruscan tombs. As an echo of this many-centuries-old burial custom and the asso-
ciated warrior ideology, weapons were represented in tomb reliefs and wall paintings,
for which the famous Tomb of the Reliefs in Caere53 and the Tomba Giglioli in Tar-
quinia (Colour plates 40–41)54 provide eloquent testimony. Pictures of greaves, ana-
tomical cuirasses, helmets, and shields replaced offerings of weapons.
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53 Steingräber 1984, 268–70 pls. 1–2; Proietti 1986, 236–65 cat. no. 107.
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Petra Amann
12 Society
Abstract: The basic unit of Etruscan society was the family, established in a lawful marriage, which
also formed a residential unit. Presumably there existed in Etruria an institution comparable to the
Roman pater familias. Women enjoyed a somewhat public existence but were excluded from politi-
cal office; female cultic activity in public service is difficult to verify. The onomastic system based on
gentilicia shows that the individual was defined primarily by his membership of a broader community
of descendants, membership which was transmitted in the father’s line. The importance of the gens
changed over time; while in the Orientalizing period and again from the fourth century BCE it played
a certain role, this appears to have diminished considerably in the sixth and fifth centuries.
A strongly hierarchical society with unequal division of wealth and power was typical for the
Orientalizing period, which was dominated by the principes. In the course of the sixth century, a
number of factors led to the formation of new social strata and the establishment of a broader urban
upper class. Beginning in the fourth century, the circle of those who shared in political power once
again tightened more strongly. A small oligarchical and very prosperous upper class dominated the
Hellenistic city-states of Etruria.
We are considerably less well informed about the middle and lower social strata. An urban
middle class must have begun to come into being in the Archaic period. These citizens certainly had
to perform military service, but their integration into the political life of the community is unclear.
In the later sixth and the fifth centuries there may well have been a free peasantry owning modest
amounts of land. As for the lower classes of population, they comprised an urban proletariat and
lower rural classes. Beginning in the second half of the fourth century, considerable social tensions
arose, especially in the strongly industrialized cities of northern and inner Etruria, but a clear distinc-
tion between discriminated Etruscans and real slaves (mostly foreigners), whose numbers strongly
increased during the fourth and third centuries, sometimes proves problematic.
The liberalizing tendencies of the Hellenistic period led on the whole to a substantially more
varied social spectrum than before (e.g. new forms of marriage, freedmen). With the lex Iulia of 90 BCE
Etruria definitely became part of the Roman world.
Keywords: Family, pater familias, principes, upper classes
Introduction
The reconstruction of Etruscan society is an undertaking afflicted with numerous
uncertainties; much must remain (for the time being) unclear and in the dark. This
is due above all to the problem of sources: the literary output of the Etruscans in the
original (setting aside the Liber Linteus) is entirely lost.1 Through Roman intermedi-
aries there have survived fragments of religious writings (especially from the disci-
plina etrusca), while historical, geographical, philosophical, and political texts are
1 On its existence see Harris 1971, 4–31; Sordi 1989. Unfortunately the twenty books of the emperor
Claudius’s Tyrrhenica (Suet. Claud. 42.2) have not survived.
180 Petra Amann
entirely absent. Along with them went any sort of self-presentation and self-appraisal
of Etruscan circumstances. The only available perspective is that of outsiders—that
is, some, albeit not much, evidence from Greek and Roman authors who, for differ-
ing reasons and with varying quality, have remarked on Etruscan society. The most
important role in the reconstruction of Etruscan social history is thus naturally played
by the primary sources, namely the epigraphic material and archaeological finds and
results. The quite numerous inscriptions (around 13,000, including single letters)
provide important information about family structure, though in most cases they are
very short and relatively limited in content, since the vast majority of them come from
funerary contexts.2 Longer inscriptions with more complex content are rather rare
and mostly not comprehensible to us in all details. New epigraphic finds, however,
continue to enrich our understanding. A central role is played by archaeological finds
and results, among which the sepulchral sphere is of great importance in Etruria.
In a way, it represents a mirror image of the society of the living, but a distorted and
ideologically highly freighted one that hence must be evaluated with care.3 Other
approaches important for our inquiry, such as excavations of settlements (which can
also provide information on the life of the lower classes)4 and the investigation of the
cultivation of rural areas, remain in their infancy.
Making things more difficult, sweeping statements and false as well as over-inter-
pretations of older research in the area of Etruscan social history have, to some extent,
a long shelf life, which is due to the fact that supposedly settled knowledge is gener-
ally only reluctantly abandoned. The best example is the myth of Etruscan matriarchy
created in 1870 by J. J. Bachofen, which, though utterly untenable, in weakened form
strongly influenced subsequent opinion speaking of Etruscan “mother culture”.5 In
fact, for the conservative patrician from Basel in Switzerland, the Etruscans were also
a means to an end; he wished to denounce the moral decay of an entirely “material”
society.
Despite these unpromising precursors, a reconstruction in outline of the society
or, better, the societies of Etruria is achievable. For this purpose, below we separate
the description of the rather static, scarcely changing basic structures of the Etruscan
family, which functioned as the nucleus of social organization, from the description
of the various social classes, since their development and existence interacted much
more strongly with the economic and historic-political development of the Etruscan
city-states. “The Etruscans” is not an undifferentiated mass of people, but a juxtapo-
2 The Editio minor Rix 1991 has been updated by Meiser 2014 (= ET²).
3 For the New Archaeology and the critical discussion surrounding it see inter alia Binford 1971;
O’Shea 1984. For Italy: d’Agostino 1985; most recently Izzet 2007.
4 Recent research has attempted to fill these gaps. See most recently Bentz and Reusser 2010a and on
Marzabotto in particular, Sassatelli and Govi 2010.
5 Bachofen 1870. See Amann 2000, 13–19 (with older literature).

12 Society 181
sition of politically and administratively independent state entities, which naturally

resulted in distinct cultural, economic, and of course social developments. By the
sixth century BCE at the latest, however, the Etruscans must have considered them-
selves a linguistic and cultural unity. The existence of treaties between the individ-
ual city-states, permitting commercial and personal contacts (similar to ius connubii
and ius commercii of the Latins), is extremely probable. In modern terms, we are not
dealing with a federal state in historical times (with uniform citizenship), but with
an—albeit rather loose—ethnically based confederation.6
1 Early times
The Final Bronze period in Italy (twelfth–eleventh centuries BCE) is characterized
by the widespread phenomenon of cremation with subsequent urn burial (called
Proto-Villanovan). The sometimes extensive urn fields present a relatively uniform
picture of interments in the form of individual burials without great social distinc-
tions, which does not necessarily mean that there were no leaders or persons with
specific religious-magical authority. Especially in southern Etruria—northern and
central Etruria differed—Proto-Villanovan-period single graves and small groups
of pozzo graves, which probably represent family plots, are also known. Generally
speaking, the south Etruscan Tolfa-Allumiere zone is where material differentia-
tions probably denoting socially prominent groups of persons are first found.7 Large
seventy to eighty square meter huts could represent dwelling places of extended
families, though smaller units (for the nuclear family?) appear to have existed too
(e.g. Sorgenti della Nova).8
The living conditions in the Early Iron Age (tenth–ninth centuries) appear not to
have differed greatly (e.g. Tarquinia, Calvario), although population was increasingly
concentrated in the core settlements (see chapter 33 Pacciarelli). The hut floor plans
that differ in form and dimension, though, probably express not only social-famil-
ial distinctions, but also functional and chronological differences.9 In the course of
time, however, a certain tendency must be recognized toward housing that provided
room for the nuclear family.10 In parallel, the concept of private property—including
also and especially land—must have acquired significance in the Early Iron Age, as
opposed to common possession by a larger group. The housing unit will also have
constituted a production unit flanked by specialists in metalworking and also to some
6 Most recently Aigner-Foresti 2005 (with older literature).

7 di Gennaro and Guidi 2000, 114; Sestieri 2010, 236–39.
8 Negroni Catacchio 1995; Sestieri 2010, 234.
9 Bartoloni 2002, 127–29.
10 So Colonna 1986, 390.

182 Petra Amann
extent pottery manufacture from outside this unit.11 Within the cemeteries, the grave
goods clearly mark the different responsibilities and roles of the sexes. A few men’s
graves more lavishly equipped with weapons and hut-urns appear to be associated
with leading roles within the community (e.g. in Tarquinia).12 Colonizing movements
to northern, eastern, and southern Italy presuppose the existence of leaders. The
women responsible for the household were, as a rule, characterized by tools for wool
and cloth production (spindle whorls, spools, occasionally loom weights). Although
social stratification begins to become recognizable in the material record, in this early
phase no really great economic differences can yet have existed between the families.
Whether initially a uniform funeral ritual that masked social differences was ideologi-
cally required is a matter of scholarly dispute.13
While the older necropolises reveal larger groups of graves, which probably
represent extended kinship groups and perhaps also dependency relations, in the
great proto-urban centers of Etruria the model of the family with the central husband-
and-wife couple appears to increase in significance. The small to medium groups of
graves show different consistence, but common to them was probably an organiza-
tion by internally stratified family groups, whether the nuclear family or the extended
family.14 Fertility and sexual potency guaranteed family continuity, and the legitimacy
of the progeny with regard to rules of inheritance gained increasing significance. A
special role was assumed by the founding father. The eighth century may have seen a
developed ancestor cult.15
2 On the structure of the Etruscan family

In principle, the gens as descent-community from a common ancestor in the sense of
a larger, superordinate unit must be distinguished from the small or nuclear family
of father, mother, and children. Already before the Early Iron Age, groupings can
be recognized in the necropolises that probably reflect extended family bands in a
wider sense, yet their organizational structure remains unknown to us. Only with the
appearance of epigraphic sources beginning around 700 BCE do we acquire deeper
insights into Etruscan naming practices, and thus into the typical family structure as
it must have been common at least since the late eighth century. The nomen gentile or
gentilicium appears to be the most important part of the name of an individual—that
11 On the manufacture of pottery, see Boitani, Neri and Biagi 2007–8.
12 For Tarquinia see Iaia 1995, 250–51. The use of hut-urns is not uniform in Etruria, but in any case it
emphasizes the high social status of the one buried in it: Bartoloni et alii 1987, 223–24.
13 Cf. e.g. Torelli and Cristofani 1995, 108–9; Iaia 1999, esp. 122.
14 Pacciarelli 2001, 247 (Tarquinia, Le Rose), 256.
15 Damgaard Andersen 1993. See also Babbi 2008.

12 Society 183
means one’s status was primarily defined by one’s membership in a descent-commu-

nity (Lat. gens).16 This naming practice is a constant through all of Etruscan history
comparable to the Italic-Roman world, whereas in ancient Greece the individual name
remained the core. The gentilicium combined with a praenomen (= binomial nomen-
clature) designated a free male or female person with citizenship status, its transmis-
sion occurred in legal marriage strictly patrilinearly. Unilineal lines of descent gen-
erally follow the need for clear rules of succession through the generations. From a
morphological point of view, various types of gentilicia can be distinguished in Etrus-
can; in pre-Hellenistic times gentilicia of patronymic origin (with suffix -na, -ni, -nie,
-ra) predominate.17
The concrete responsibilities of the gens in historical times are unclear. In case
there were no close agnatic relatives, it was probably—similarly to the situation in
Rome—responsible for family-law concerns such as inheritance, care duties, guard-
ianships, etc., and functioned originally as a protective community as well. As the
inscriptions show, marriage in Etruria was always strictly exogamous, thus outside
one’s own gens.18 The feeling of solidarity between the individual branches of a gens
appears to have changed repeatedly in the course of Etruscan history; the significance
of the gentilicial system in the structure of the state alters parallel to this. It must have
been high especially in the Orientalizing period,19 and then again from the fourth
century onwards among the ruling families; while forms of organization based on
gentilicial bonds in the sixth and fifth centuries were less prominent. The grave struc-
ture points in this direction: in the Orientalizing period, the custom of monumental
tumuli expanded throughout Etruria, which in their inner chambers had space for
several members and/or generations of a family (the stone circle graves in Vetulonia
and environs are comparable). In some cases we can speak of an extended family in
the sense of a gens, e.g. in the large Tumulus II at Caere, which was in use from the
early seventh to the second half of the sixth century and probably contains the resting
places of several branches of a gens (Tomb of the Hut, Tomb of the Dolia and Fire
Dogs, Tomb of the Beds and Sarcophagi, Tomb of the Greek Vases).20 In the Archaic
period, from the mid sixth century on, the phenomenon of chamber tombs with more
than one room and multiple burials declined, so that the relatively small, mostly one-
room chamber tombs with wall paintings in Tarquinia and the cubic tombs of Caere
and Orvieto more clearly concentrate on the nuclear family. Beginning in the fourth
16 Various proposals have been made concerning the origin and period of appearance of the nomen
gentile. See Rix 1972; Colonna 1977. Overview in Marchesini 1997, 154–62.
17 There are also gentilicia based on ethnic and individual names. See Rix 1977, 66–67. On the group
of the supposed “Vornamengentilizia” see Benelli 2002; 2011.
18 Amann 2006, 9; Franciosi 1988.
19 The large number of gentilicia in early times speaks against an original limitation to the upper
class, as seen already by Pallottino (1988, 287–88).
20 Ricci 1955, 233ff.; Gran Aymerich 1979, esp. 601–36.

184 Petra Amann
century, the element of the gens recurred very strongly, at least as concerns the funer-
ary sphere, with the so-called “gentilicial” tombs.21
In the Late Etruscan period, the term laut(u)n must have had the meaning
“extended family, descent-community, gens”. It appears in the contract on the Cippus
Perusinus and in two funerary inscriptions in Tarquinia and Perugia referring to the
foundation of the tomb.22 Another term expressing familial connection is known from
rock facade tombs in Castel d’Asso and from one of the necropolises at Tuscania:
neś(l) = “descendants” (of a person) or “family”(?).23
This leads us to the free small or nuclear family, the true basic unit of Etrus-
can society.24 In historical times, the married couple was bound together in serial
monogamy; a few Late Etruscan inscriptions appear to attest to remarriage after the
death of a spouse (e.g. ET² Ta 1.164, 1.166–68). Upon marriage, the woman normally
left her family of origin (this pratice is called patrilocal or virilocal), but retained
her complete birth name (praenomen and nomen gentile). The father transmitted his
nomen gentile to his sons and daughters (patrilineal) and represented the family to
the outside world; this is quite clear from the funerary inscriptions engraved over
the tomb entrances in Archaic Orvieto, which usually name only the father of the
nuclear family. Patriarchal organization must be assumed, some evidence points to
the possibility that in Etruria too an original powerful father figure along the lines
of the Roman pater familias existed; perhaps the formation of an onomastic system
based on the nomen gentile should be seen from this point of view.25 This would
mean that only upon the death of the father do his sons become sui iuris and on
their part patres familias. An interesting document for the depths of the generations
is the late third century Tomb of the Volumni in Perugia, which, along with three
brothers of the gens Velimna (two of them singled out as builders of the tomb), also
contained the urns of the father and grandfather, whose mortal remains were prob-
ably transferred to the newly erected family tomb and laid to rest in purpose-made
urns (ET² Pe 1.306–12).
In the course of time, the binomial nomenclature was supplemented with addi-
tions that further explained the position of the individual within the family: the filia-
tion (the father’s praenomen in the genitive) was very common beginning in the sixth
century, the matronym (the mother’s nomen gentile in the genitive, occasionally in
21 E.g. Tarquinia: Mercareccia Tomb; Cerveteri: Tomb of the Reliefs; Vulci: François Tomb; Perugia:
Tomb of the Cai Cutu; Volterra: Inghirami Tomb; rock facade tombs in Norchia and Castel D’Asso.
22 ET² Pe 8.4, A 2 f.; Pe 5.2 (San Manno); Ta 5.6 (Tomb of the Typhon). This word probably comes from
the Indo-European root *h1leudʰ-. Most recently Rix 1994, 111–12. Perhaps it especially emphasizes
one’s freeborn status.
23 ET² AT 1.30; 1.138, 140, 141, 148 (cf. for Sovana AV 1.13).
24 On house and family see in general Camporeale 1986.
25 In this sense Rix 1972; contra Colonna 1977, 181. The problem has not yet received a widely accepted
solution.

12 Society 185
combination with her praenomen) mainly appears beginning in the fourth century.
It served both to better differentiate the individual within a gens and very likely to
document family pride in the cognate line. Especially in the Late Etruscan period,
the gamonym (the name of the husband)—with or without the addition of puia
(“wife”)—was usual for married women. The cognomen, usually a family cognomen,
first appears in the third century.26 There were in Etruria no fixed rules for the use of
these name additions.
Unfortunately, Etruscan inheritance law is entirely unknown to us.27 Parallel to
the situation in Rome, inheritance by daughters, which made possible the accumula-
tion of property in female hands, seems highly probable. The kinship terminology
deduced from tomb inscriptions is very one-sided: while the vertical line is relatively
well documented (apa “father,” ati “mother,” clan “son,” seχ/c “daughter,” apa nacna/
papa “grandfather,” ati nacna/teta “grandmother,” papals/tetals “grandchild”), we
know very little concerning the terminology of horizontal relationships28 – only ruva
“brother” and nefts “nephew” are attested a few times (especially in the Golini I Tomb
in Orvieto).29
The responsibilities of women were traditionally defined in Etruria, too—above
all, they lay in the area of childbearing and the domestic sphere. Special responsi-
bilities outside the home, such as cultic duties, may be assumed, but—in contrast
to Greece or even other peoples of ancient Italy—are difficult to prove.30 From the
political life and state administration, Etruscan women were entirely excluded.
On the other hand, Etruscan women stood out through a certain public presence:
as wives they participated in upper-class banquets at home and elsewhere, they
were present in the audience for games and contests, and as mothers they certainly
occupied a position of respect within their families similar to that of the Roman
matron.
26 A few examples of individual cognomina come from the Archaic period (probably not inherited):
Rix 1963, 380.
27 On the few Etruscan civil law texts, see Facchetti 2000 (including some highly hypothetical
suggestions). On the Tabula Cortonensis, see Agostiniani and Nicosia 2000.
28 The terms for “uncle” and “aunt” would be interesting, for example.
29 Amann 2006. On kinship terminology in the Indo-European languages, see the still fundamental
work of Benveniste 1969.
30 On the female spheres of life in general see Rallo 1989; Amann 2000 (with older literature). For an
overview and for the much-discussed passage by Theopompus (apud Ath. 12.517d–518b) cf. chapters
53 Amann and 59 Amann.

186 Petra Amann
3 On the hierarchization of society:

the different social classes
In the course of the eighth century BCE—that is, in the second phase of the Early Iron
Age—tomb furnishings allow us to recognize stronger and stronger economic distinc-
tions. This can easily be seen e.g. in the tomb arrangements of the Quattro Fontanili
Necropolis in Veii.31 Richly furnished children’s graves document the transition to
an aristocracy by birth and a true class society. This did not happen simultaneously
throughout Etruria: in the southern part of the core area the development happened
sooner (second half of the eighth century) than in the north; the colonial regions were
also affected (e.g. Pontecagnano, Verucchio).
A strong hierarchization of society with unequal division of wealth and power is
typical of the Orientalizing period (last quarter of the eighth to the beginning of the
sixth century). In the seventh century we speak of an “Etruria of the principes”, of
powerful noble families, who set a monopolistic claim on wealth and power. Their
economic base was the possession of land (agriculture and cattle raising),32 flanked
by the control over metal resources (especially iron), and interregional trade routes.
The ostentatious display of wealth and status symbols legitimized the claim on power
of this small elite, which left its archaeological mark throughout Etruria in the so-
called princely tombs.33 High-ranking men represented themselves with their arma-
ments as warriors, although this practice waned in southern Etruria—as opposed to
the northern part—during the seventh century.34 The rich equipment of the female
members of the ruling families was an integral part of princely self-representation. As
elements of alliances (through marriage) and guarantors of family continuity, these
women were important members of the elite, even though they did not enjoy equal
rights.
In contrast to this small ruling class stood larger freeborn parts of the popula-
tion without noticeable economic possibilities, probably also lacking basic rights of
political participation (e.g. farmers, craftsmen), who found themselves to a consider-
able degree dependent on the principes. Unfortunately, our sources are poor in this
respect; unfurnished burials around the major tomb areas can be interpreted as rep-
resenting a dependent lower class.
The quick urbanization process that was already setting in in the seventh century
(with division of labor, settlements with higher population density),35 the increas-
31 Guidi 1993; Pacciarelli 2001, 261–76. In general: Bartoloni 2003.

32 On the throne of Verucchio, whose incised decoration depicts several stages of wool production,
see von Eles 2002.
33 See inter alia most recently Principi 2000; Celuzza and Cianferoni 2010.
34 On this development see d’Agostino 1990.
35 On urbanization, see most recently Izzet 2007, 165–207; Bruni 2010; especially Riva 2010.

12 Society 187
ing demand for specialized crafts, the major role of interregional trade, and probably
better organized and more productive agricultural techniques36 led, during the sixth
century, to the formation of new social strata and ultimately to the establishment of a
broader urban upper class, which also included wholesalers and workshop owners.
The appearance of necropolises with uniform tombs arranged in neat rows (“cubic
tombs”) is to be interpreted in this way. Good examples are provided by the Banditac-
cia necropolis at Cerveteri and the Crocifisso del Tufo necropolis at Orvieto;37 parallel
to the sepulchral areas, a stronger spatial organization of the residential quarters is
assumed too. In the second half of the sixth century, the important cities of Etruria
show a relatively broad, timocratically organized upper class. Possibilities for upward
social mobility must have been limited (especially with regard to the integration of
foreigners).38 A similar impression is offered by the (in most cases) quite small but
extensively painted chamber tombs beginning around 540 BCE in Tarquinia, a town
which in contrast to Orvieto possessed a long aristocratic tradition. The members of
the local upper class cultivated their horizontal connections, were cautious about
external equality, and claimed political leadership of the republican city-states, as
they provided the annual rotation of magistrates. The old gentes of the Orientalizing
period survived to a certain extent (see, for example, the Tomb of the Greek Vases
from the second half of the sixth century in Tumulus II of the Banditaccia necropolis
at Cerveteri), despite the decline in significance of the gentilicial structures.
Some sort of allegiance (similar to the Roman clientship) must have already from
early times constituted the social glue between upper and lower classes. Only a very
few sources are available; followers and dependents in the circle of a noble lord, who
also provided army services as needed, are nonetheless to be expected.39 The build-
ing type of the atrium house, whose architecture also served for the representational
duties of the master of the house and his social responsibilities, appears to have good
Etruscan roots.40 It is obvious that the character of these allegiances must conform to
the developments of the time.
In Etruria the circle of those who participated in political power was always
rather small. After a certain torpor during the fifth century,41 it strongly tightened
once again during the fourth century. Now a few great gentes raised the claim of sole
rulership in the state (called principes, domini, despótai, dynatótatoi, etc.). Their pros-
36 On agriculture, handicrafts, and commerce, see in general Cristofani 1986.

37 Colonna 1986. On the necropolis of Orvieto, see most recently Feruglio 2003, esp. 280–305.
38 On the various forms of integration of foreigners, see chapters 53 Amann and 59 Amann.
39 The Latin word satelles “companion, retinue, satellite” is usually considered to be of Etruscan
origin (zatlaθ) (cf. sodalis): Breyer 1993, 299–300. On military service by the lower classes cf. Dion.
Hal. Ant. Rom. 9.5.4 and Livy 9.36.
40 Bentz and Reusser 2008, 84–87; Bentz and Reusser 2010b, 110; Prayon 2010, 21–23. On the Casa
dell’Impluvium in Roselle, see chapter 53 Amann.
41 See Torelli 1990.

188 Petra Amann
perity was based on land ownership (large-scale land-holding) and the labor of the
lower classes; internal solidarity was promoted by regional and supra-regional mar-
riage policy.42 Regarding late Etruria, the ancient authors frequently speak of tryphē,
which was expressed in overwhelming opulence.43 The fact is, in Hellenistic Etruria a
small, very prosperous and oligarchic upper class must have existed that surrounded
itself with numerous servants and demonstrated its wealth as the expression of high
prestige.
Considerably less well documented are the population groups perched lower on
the social ladder. An urban middle class, however, must have begun in the Archaic
period: the rock façade tomb area in inner Etruria shows many tombs of an average
level around the smaller urban centers, in both the sixth century and the Late Etrus-
can period. The floor plans of houses in planned cities like Marzabotto also reveal
a broader middle class in the second half of the fifth century.44 A similar situation
is attested by the necropolises (including their onomastic material) of the economi-
cally flourishing cities in Hellenistic northern and inner Etruria (e.g. Perugia). In line
with this is an observation made by Posidonius (apud Diod. Sic. 5.40), namely that in
Etruria most of the free men own houses of different, individual kinds. These citizens
were certainly liable for military service; entirely unclear is their integration into the
political life of the city-state; so far, we are scarcely informed as to the existence and
competences of possible people’s assemblies.45 Phenomena of tyranny, as are sug-
gested in the late sixth or fifth century by the Pyrgi gold tablets for south Etruscan
Caere in the person of Thefarie Velianas,46 speak for a certain (anti-aristocratic) possi-
bility of mobilizing the middle and lower classes. Furthermore the economic crisis of
the second half of the fifth century is likely to have hit the urban middle classes of the
south Etruscan coastal cities quite hard. In the later sixth and the fifth centuries there
may have been a probably free peasantry with medium-sized landholdings, as the few
archaeologically attested farmsteads suggest.47 This appears, though, to have been a
short-lived phenomenon; unfortunately our information in regard is very sparse.
As for the lower social classes of the population, they comprised—depending on
the development of the individual settlements—an urban proletariat, whose members,
42 Illustrative in this regard is the tomb epigram of Larthi Cilnei from Tarquinia, for which see chapter
59 Amann.
43 Diod. Sic. 5.40. Cf. also Catull. 39.40 (obesus Etruscus); Verg. G. 2.193 (pinguis Tyrrhenus).
44 The approximately equally large insulae contained houses of different dimensions, those of the
upper class (e.g. insula IV 1) and those of the broader middle class: Bentz and Reusser 2008, 87–88;
Bentz and Reusser 2010b, 110. On House IV 2,1, see Sassatelli and Govi 2010.
45 The few indications of the existence of a sort of “senate” (e.g. in Arezzo for 208 BCE) reveal a few
principes senatus alongside a larger number of senators (Livy 27.24.4).
46 ET² Cr 4.4 and 4.5; Pallottino 1988, 177; Torelli 1981, 200–203; Colonna 2007 (dealing with the
interesting Tomba delle Iscrizioni Graffite).
47 See Colonna 1990, 15–16.

12 Society 189
similar to Rome, probably were free in their person (e.g. day laborers), but without
their own property, and also lower rural classes. Different forms from oppressive to
less oppressive dependency are theoretically possible in this (perhaps originally free)
peasantry. Rare and scattered indications in ancient literature allow no generalizable
conclusions to be drawn.48 Small rural land ownership appears to be a possibility
again in late inner Etruria,49 while southern Etruria from the third century onwards
had to face extensive land confiscations by Rome and suffered to a higher degree from
the pauperization of the small local peasantry. Often cited is the complaint of Tiberius
Gracchus in 137 BCE about the multitude of foreign slaves on the fields (latifundia) of
southern Etruria (Plut. Ti. Gracch. 8.9).
A development corresponding to the Roman Conflict of the Orders (fifth–third
centuries), which brought legal and finally political equal rights to the plebs (or better
to its upper segment), is not attested for Etruria, although each city-state must be
considered on its own and the general absence of sources advises caution. In the age
of colonization (Po Valley, Campania), the social pressure of the lower classes could
certainly be attenuated by land allotments. Internal colonization may be assumed
after the crisis of the fifth century in the case of Tarquinia.50 It remains open whether
the absence of indications of social unrest in this city is to be attributed to the hazards
of historical tradition or is in fact the result of this colonization activity or other mea-
sures that were taken. It is a fact, though, that, beginning in the second half of the
fourth century, great social tensions affected especially the heavily ‘industrialized’
cities of northern and inner Etruria (Arretium, Volsinii veteres). Of course the often-
unclear terminology of the ancient authors causes problems in the exact definition of
the groups concerned (plebs, servi, oikétai).51 The proportion of Etruscans who were
socially and legally disadvantaged, but free in their person, and slaves (maybe also
freedmen) is not always clear to distinguish, especially in the case of the Orvieto Revolt
of 265/264 BCE (where perhaps a mixed situation has to be assumed). A genuine slave
rebellion encompassing wide parts of Etruria broke out in 197/196 BCE (Livy 33.36.1–3),
and the problem was taken care of by Rome. Enslaved foreigners and probably also
enslaved natives had already been found since early times in Etruria but, beginning
in the fourth–third centuries, an increasing number of foreign slaves must be reck-
oned with, who came into use in the factories and mines, in the noble households,
and the large agricultural enterprises of southern Etruria in particular. Depending
48 The meaning of the word “penestai,” used only once by Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 9.5.4, was greatly
exaggerated in the older literature (e.g. Heurgon 1957; 1970; Mazzarino 1957). See the criticism by
Benelli 1996 and chapter 59 Amann.
49 In this context, the Tabula Cortonensis is relevant. See chapter 59 Amann.
50 Torelli 1981, 218.
51 With a revolt of the plebs we deal in the case of Arezzo in 302 BCE (Livy 10.5.13). For discussion,
see Harris 1971, 114–24; Torelli 1987, 87–95; Benelli 1996; Massa-Pairault 2000; and chapters 59 Amann
and 65 Marcone.

190 Petra Amann
on their assignments, they could have very different lifestyles.52 The Roman agrarian
laws of the late second and early first centuries BCE are probably the chronological
framework for the so-called Prophecy of Vegoia—a pseudo prophecy with a political
background, which documents the fear of the land-owning classes of Etruria of forced
land cessions under the allies of Rome.53
On the other hand, the general tendencies toward social liberalization of the Hel-
lenistic period were also effective in Etruria: the old and rigid forms of matrimony
became replaced by new forms sine manu;54 the possibility of divorce and remar-
riage led to complex interfamilial kinship relations. The appearance of nouveaux
riches (such as the Petru Scevaś of the Tabula Cortonensis),55 the stronger presence of
freedmen (Etr. lautni/θa),56 and the existence of new citizens of Italic origin in partly
remarkable numbers (e.g. at Chiusi, Perugia)57 led to a considerably more varied spec-
trum in social life than in earlier times.
When, as a consequence of the Social War, Roman citizenship was assigned to all
of Etruria in 90 BCE (lex Iulia de civitate), the social elite of the land had long since
come to terms with the dominance of Rome. Thenceforth the Etruscan cities also par-
ticipated in the social developments and internal political conflicts of Rome.
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Etruscan Burials.” AnalRoma 17–18:53–98.
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Erich Kistler
13 Feasts, Wine and Society,
eighth–sixth centuries BCE
Abstract: Feasts in antiquity were public events and thus instrumental in shaping the political scene.
They were organized via certain culinary and table-specific registers of consumption that were deter-
mined in each case by locally dominant social structures and power relations. This led to certain local
and period-specific “consumption-scapes” with a sustained impact on the feasting culture of each local
group, leaving their traces in the resulting archaeological finds that reflected those cultures. Such finds
include, for instance, imagined and actual scenes in pictures, dwellings reflecting hierarchical structures
(from imposing solidly constructed buildings to humble huts), dress codes of festive garments showing
different statuses, and significant patterns in the storage and disposal of implements, dishes, food, etc.
All these material objectivations of commensal politics can provide information about the under-
lying society. Feasts and their material remains have therefore also acquired increasing importance in
the study of Etruscan culture. The focus is particularly on wine and on the drinking and socializing
culture that is associated with it. However, such research has often tended to neglect the interdepend-
ent cause-and-effect relationships that exist between wine, feasts and society. This is why we decided
to emphasize precisely this point as a common link between all feasts and their underlying policies,
as it will help us gain a better understanding of the historical process of transformation from the
eighth century BCE capi guerrieri to the seventh century principes and sixth century aristocrats.
Keywords: feasts, wine, pilgrim flasks, dinoi, olla
Introduction: Societies are shaped by feasts—

and feasts by societies
Feasts in antiquity were public events and thus instrumental in shaping the political
scene. They were organized via certain culinary and table-specific registers of con-
sumption that were determined in each case by locally dominant social structures
and power relations. This led to certain local and period-specific “consumption-
scapes” with a sustained impact on the feasting culture of each local group, leaving
their traces in the resulting archaeological finds that reflected those cultures. Such
finds include, for instance, imagined and actual scenes in pictures, dwellings reflect-
ing hierarchical structures (from imposing solidly constructed buildings to humble
huts), dress codes of festive garments showing different statuses, and significant pat-
terns in the storage and disposal of implements, dishes, food, etc.
All these material objectivations of commensal politics can provide informa-
tion about the underlying society.1 Feasts and their material remains have therefore
1 Dietler 1995; 2001.

196 Erich Kistler
also acquired increasing importance in the study of Etruscan culture.2 The focus is
particularly on wine and on the drinking and socializing culture that is associated
with it. However, such research has often tended to neglect the interdependent cause-
and-effect relationships that exist between wine, feasts and society. This is why we
decided to emphasize precisely this point as a common link between all feasts and
their underlying policies, as it will help us gain a better understanding of the histori-
cal process of transformation from the eighth century BCE capi guerrieri to the Orien-
talizing seventh century principes and sixth century aristocrats.
1 Bronze pilgrim flasks and capi guerrieri

(750–675 BCE)
In the Early Iron Age, characteristic flasks were made from sheet bronze in Veii, Tar-
quinia and Vulci. They were bronze imitations of Levantine flasks and apparently
designed for the storage and transportation of wine enriched with aromatic resins.
These pilgrim flasks were particularly in evidence in richly endowed graves of the
ninth to early seventh centuries, along with various harnessing items (Volterra, Ve-
tulonia, Chiusi, Bisenzio, Vulci, Vetralla, Tarquinia and Veii), and we can therefore
conclude that bronze flasks served as status symbols for those with the highest social
standing—the capi guerrieri.3
Clay and rarely bronze models of huts were used for the pyre debris and ashes of
high-status individuals, thus indicating that the house-society was the basic commu-
nal principle in an Iron-Age village.4 It was characterized by communal dwellings in
compounds. These were simply constructed dwellings, composed of several circular
and rectangular structures.5 Big families were especially conspicuous because of their
extended compounds and also their large quantities of supplies and denser concen-
trations of exotic and prestigious items. This permits us to draw conclusions about
the social statuses and political authorities of the heads of such large “houses” within
their social structures.6
This consolidation of political powers of a given house during the eighth century
was also reflected in the special honors that were given particularly powerful patres
familias at funeral rites. They were the only ones whose ashes were kept in clay or
bronze replicas of the cultic huts of their big families. This exclusive right was highly
2 Rathje 2010, 25.

3 Iaia 2010; De Santis 2005; Marzoli 1989.
4 Amann 2010, 31; Riva 2006, 120–125; see also chapter 42 Trocchi.
5 Damgaard Andersen 1998, 16–20; see also chapter 39 Karlsson.
6 Kistler 2011.

13 Feasts, Wine and Society, eighth–sixth centuries BCE 197
symbolic as it expressed the person’s former headship over the cultic practice and
interests of his “house.” In many cases a hut contained not only urns but also a fune-
real display of complex armory, numerous banquet dishes, rich decorative jewelry
and garment accessories as well as luxurious exotic object. These items in graves
acted as symbolic reminders of the deceased person’s great military prowess and his
economic potency as a generous giver of gifts and feasts. Both were of central impor-
tance in making a good impression not only on the actual villagers but also on outside
guests to the funeral, thus ensuring that the family was seen as sufficiently attractive
for possible marriages or as an alliance partner.7 After all, the only way to ensure
an exchange and transfer of resources and prestigious goods and thus to secure a
leading local position was through a wide-ranging network of family relations and
hospitality.8
Such networks of leading houses during the Early Iron Age in central Italy are
reflected, for instance, in the find-spots of Neo-Assyrian omphalos bowls. They were
used as hospitality pledges which, under the gift-giving practice of the Phoenicians,
spread all the way from the Levant to Gibraltar. This power of geographic distance and
the symbolic value of such Neo-Assyrian bowls virtually predestined these items for
use in funeral ceremonies, giving proof of a successful hospitality network, and they
were therefore placed in the graves of the western Mediterranean elite. It also means
that the relevant sites provide significant archaeological evidence of various nodes
in a ritual exchange system between hosts and guests—a system that covered a wide
range of ethnic groups.9
The items that reached central Italy through this trans-Mediterranean network
included not only the Cypro-Levantine precursors of Etruscan flasks, but also fra-
grant Oriental resins that were indispensable for the spicy wine mixtures carried in
the flasks.10 Moreover, it shows the beginnings of an Oriental-style “winemanship”
whereby flask owners tried to distinguish themselves culturally from the lower orders
of their society during the eighth century.11 Such profiling subsequently reached its
heyday in the seventh century when an Orientalizing habitus became the distinctive
mark of this period.12
7 Riva 2006, 120–125; Iaia 1999, 96–114.

8 Foxhall 2005, 225–6, 234, 244–6.
9 Sciacca 2006.
10 McGovern 2007, 117.
11 Nijboer 2010, 12–18; Foxhall 2005, 235.
12 Rathje 2010.

198 Erich Kistler
2 Dinoi and Orientalizing principes (650–575 BCE)

From the eighth century, westbound Phoenician and Greek migration meant that
former guests and friends from foreign cultures were now living in the immediate
vicinity. In central Italy, in particular, this led to continuous coexistence and ongoing
interaction between elites with a wide range of ethnic backgrounds—Phoenician,
Latin, Etruscan and Greek.13 The result was a multi-ethnic melting pot that created
numerous new hybrid cultural achievements. One of them was the (clay) olla. This
hemispherical wine-mixing vessel regularly featured among the banquet dishes that
were placed in the Orientalizing graves of the elite. It is assumed to have been derived
from Phoenician models, although its Etruscan name, thina, comes from its Greek
synonym, dinos. In the case of this Orientalizing wine-mixing vessel, cultural media-
tion may also have been conducted by Greeks, probably Euboeans from Pithekoussai
or Cumae.14
A parallel process of indirect cultural transmission can be seen in an adaptation
of alphabetical characters in Etruria in the early seventh century. Derived from gram-
mata phoinikia, i.e. Phoenician letters, it originally came from the Levant.15 Never-
theless, it was introduced in Etruria via the Euboeans, as shown in the adoption of
the Etruscan script on the Marsiliana d’Albegna tablet, in characters modeled on the
Euboean script.16
The same elite grave that contained the Marsiliana tablet also revealed a bronze
grater.17 Our current knowledge from archaeological finds suggests that graters, too,
had been invented by the Euboeans. They seem to have reached central Italian graves
as burial items for Orientalizing principes through the same channels as alphabetical
characters.18 One well-known piece of evidence is the silver grater from the Tomba
Bernardini in Praeneste around 675, where it formed part of an exclusive silver drink-
ing set and had therefore been placed into this burial chamber alongside a dinos with
a strainer above the spout, from which a ladle was suspended. The dinos, with its
grater and strainer, accompanied a wine jug and a bowl-shaped drinking vessel.19
It was an indispensable accessory item for the Oriental-style “winemanship” of a
princely house. This is confirmed by the Cypro-Phoenician silver bowl, which also
came to light in the Tomba Bernardini where an enthroned reveler is shown enjoying
13 Malkin 2002.
14 Naso 1991, 101–109.
15 Johnston 2003, 264.
16 Bonfante and Bonfante 1983, 75; see also chapter 17 Benelli.
17 Ridgway 1997, 333 no. 9.
18 Ridgway 1997.
19 Canciani and von Hase 1979, 42.

his wine, using a suitable vessel. He is depicted in relief in the top row that adorns
the vessel.20
It seems that the princeps in Praeneste had cultivated a Phoenician-style wine-
drinking culture where wine was prepared by adding aromatic substances, forming
a gourmet mixture.21 Unlike in Phoenician culture, spices were not pounded in a
massive clay mortar (It. bacino-tripode),22 but were grated with a grater, which the
Etruscans had apparently taken over from the Euboeans together with the dinos.
When the Etruscan principes adopted the custom of reclining on couches at their
banquets, they had probably learned this directly from the Phoenicians and not from
the Euboeans.23 These klinai were used by principes as cultural indicators of their high
social status and therefore continued to be their exclusive right during the seventh
century. This right of exclusive reclining is documented, for instance, in the left-hand
dromos cella of the Tomba della Nave (Tomb of the Ship) in Cerveteri, built in imi-
tation of the banqueting hall of a contemporary mid seventh-century princely resi-
dence. The two stone benches that were carved out of the tuff on the two long sides
of this burial chamber were designed in imitation of the bench-like elevations of two
rows of seats. The head of each of these rows and thus the back of the burial chamber
contained a stone version of a couch as the head of the U-shaped seating arrangement
of this replica of a “banqueting hall.”24 An exclusive royal right to a kline was also
in evidence at the Assyrian court at the time, as shown in the arbor scene in Ninive.
Queen Ashursharrat is depicted enjoying her wine on a throne-like seat, while her
royal master and husband, Ashurbanipal, is reclining on a couch (Fig. 45.3).25
In northern Etruria a piece of furniture with a similar position was the princely
throne, which also involved an exclusive right. Here, the deceased princeps would get
himself “eternalized” in his burial chamber as though he were an Oriental ruler. An
enthroned reveler before a sumptuous table that was laden with food and drinking
vessel. Also, a princeps was shown as an elite warrior and military leader with deco-
ratively engraved shields along the walls of his burial chamber as well as lances and
battle axes on the ground. Sometimes the princeps was shown in a priestly function
of killing sacrificial animals, as indicated by the presence of sacrificial hatchets and
daggers.26
It shows that the social standing of an Etruscan seventh-century princeps was
characterized by a princely table culture, by a sacred privilege to sacrifice animals
and by authority in war. The architectural complex OC 1–3 in Murlo gives us a clearer
20 Canciani and von Hase 1979, 37–38 no. 18.

21 Kistler 2010, 745–746.
22 Botto 2000, 84, 86.
23 See also chapter 14 Colivicchi, with bibliography.
24 Prayon 1975, 152–3.
25 Dunbabin 2004, 14–5.
26 Kistler 2001.

200 Erich Kistler
idea of the mutual interaction between these pillars of princely power in Orientalizing
Etruria.
The proto-palatial complex on the hillside plateau of Piano del Tesoro, 25 km
south of Siena, was built in the second quarter of the seventh century and comprises
three different buildings (Figs. 71.4–71.5).27 The monumental longhouse (OC 1), which
has been interpreted as the residence of the princeps, is 8.5 × 36.2 m and has mud
brick walls on stone bases as well as a tiled roof with acroteria. Approximately 60 m
south of OC 1 was the long workshop OC 2 (6.6 × 51 m). Although this hall also had a
brick roof, it was not supported by walls, but simply by three rows of wooden posts.
The broadroom building OC 3, with its solid masonry bases (9.2 × 23.25 m) was located
seven meters south of the residence OC 1 and divided into three rooms. This building,
too, had vertical walls and a tiled roof with acroteria, so that it looked highly impres-
sive. Because of its cella tripartita ground plan, OC 3 was probably an early type of
building designed for cultic activities and feasts.28
An interpretation of OC 1 as a princely residence is borne out by the large number
of pottery fragments, bearing witness to a rich inventory of banqueting dishes. A small
proportion came from Ionia, Corinth and Sparta. The lion’s share, however, consisted
of bucchero and impasto ceramics locally made. The existence and use of bronze
dishes is only indicated by the fragments of two vessels. Significantly, however, there
were also ten impasto olle which were probably used for the preparation of spicy wine
mixtures.29
In their appearance, the banqueting dishes that were found in OC 1 are directly
reminiscent of the forms and functions of the commensal politics that characterized
rigorously ranked societies. One dominant feature of such a society was its “merit
and gift feasts,” which were given in order to establish and stabilize the existing hier-
archical order and its ranks. This was achieved through the host’s rigorously graded
preferential treatment of individual guests, with the precise calculation of time and
resources spent on serving each person. It included, in particular, different qualities
of food and drinks and different qualities of the dishes that were used at table. To
serve the highest-ranking guests, it was important to serve the most exquisite food
and the finest mixtures of alcoholic drinks, obviously served on the most costly dishes
made from precious metal. The next person lower down was often given somewhat
cheaper dishes made of clay, but still valuable and still imported. Such dishes were
given as gifts or were simply used to serve the food. Those on the next level in the hier-
archy were given less costly imitations of those delicate ceramic import items, dishes
27 See also chapter 71 Nielsen and Warden.

28 Caroll, Rodriguez and Tuck 2009 (with plan and reconstruction of hut CC7); Nielsen and Tuck
2001.
29 Berkin 2003, 20–26, 119–127.

that had been made in regional or local pottery workshops.30 When we place Corin-
thian, Ionic and Laconic drinking vessels on the honorific scale of a “merit feast” at
the Murlo proto-palatial complex, it would come second in prestige value. The first
place was taken by even more valuable banqueting dishes, made of bronze. Most of
these metallic items, however, have not survived to the present day.31
In view of these requirements at “merit and gift feasts,” it was all the more impor-
tant for the princeps of Murlo to be highly successful in his hospitality. As his resi-
dence was inland, he could only secure access to the “global” goods and merchandise
traffic through hospitality ties with influential partners along the Tyrrhenian coast.
This systematic hospitality and networking policy of the princeps in Murlo is also
borne out by the tesserae hospitales made of ivory, of which fragments bearing differ-
ent names came to light in the OC 1 longhouse.32 It clearly seems that in Orientalizing
Etruria, the formation of the elite involved a causal relationship between the region’s
hospitality policy, “global” networking and control over prestigious goods. This was
the only way one could ensure not only those much-coveted import goods but also the
necessary non-local raw materials and input materials which—as in the case of the
workshop hall OC 3 in Murlo—were then processed locally into costly cultic objects
and valuable gifts under the supervision of the princeps.33
At the “merit and gift feasts” that were given at the Murlo residence complex a
central role was often played by the matrona who handled, for instance, the alloca-
tion and preparation of the food and drinks. This included the fermentation of cereal
and grapes into alcoholic drinks and, above all, the distribution of meat, which was
still seen as a highly exclusive culinary delight in Orientalizing Etruria. This high-
ranking function of the princeps’ wife is reflected in the frequent presence of knives in
richly decorated women’s tombs in central Italy from the late eighth century onwards.
These were knives used both for sacrificial purposes and for the carving of animals.34
This role of the high-ranking woman in a princely household is illustrated on the
relief figures depicted in the middle row on a Cypro-Phoenician silver bowl in New
York. It shows a ceremony in which men are bringing small and large horned livestock
to a female ruler seated on a throne. The next image sequence shows the sacrificing of
those animals. Two men have pinned a goat (?) to an altar while one of them is cutting
the animal’s throat with a sacrificial knife in his right hand. As the innermost row on
the bowl shows, this sacrifice ceremony formed part of the preparations for a palatial
feast in a “sacred grove.”35
30 Kistler 2010, 747–8; Foxhall 2005, 243–4; Dietler 1995, 114–5.

31 Berkin 2003, 121.
32 Wallace 2008; Maggiani 2006.
33 Nielsen 1998.
34 Amann 2010, 39 with bibliography; Kistler 2001, 231–2.
35 Cypro–phoenician Silver–bowl from Cyprus. New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art inv. no.
74.51.4557, the Cesnola Collection of Art, purchased by subscription, 1874–76, Matthäus 1999–2000,

202 Erich Kistler
As well as focusing on the central role of the matrona in organizing opulent feasts,
the sacrifice scene on the silver bowl in New York also shows that the animals, which
were received for meat consumption, actually had to be killed and that this clearly
required a place of sacrifice or an altar. Commensal politics therefore always involved
religious practice. As individual capi guerrieri rose to positions of principes and thus
became redistributors and generous hosts, this development was accompanied by
drastic changes in the field of religion. In seventh-century Etruria (Tarquinia, Caere
and Veii) and Latium (Satricum) a number of prestigious sacelli were built on the
grounds of ritually destroyed cultic huts.36 Each of these “sacred houses” had a foyer,
hipped roof and an earthen cover and served as a new place of devotion for honoring
the ancestors of leading families as heroes or even worshipping the same as gods. The
capo guerriero had now become the local or even regional master of cultic and ritual
practice, which formed the religious basis for his new position as princeps outside
the family.37 If it is true that the three-room broadroom house OC 3 in Murlo is a cella
tripartita, then this building should be such a “sacred house” which functioned as a
regional center for ancestral and cultic worship as early as 650. Access to this building
would have been controlled by the princeps who had his residence in OC 1.38
3 Feasts, klinai and aristocrats

The religious condensing process, whereby specially revered ancestors were given
near-divine or even divine status, started with the ascent of individual capi guer
rieri to the positions of principes. During the sixth century, this practice led to wide-
spread monumentalization. The “sacred houses” had imposing peristyle temples
built around them and no longer served as feasting venues.39 Instead, festivities were
held in purpose-built halls and banqueting houses. Like their precursors, the palatial
residences, these newly established sanctuaries with altars and banqueting rooms
served as ceremonial service centres (e.g. in Veji-Portonaccio, Montetosto, Pyrgi and
Graviscae in Etruria and Satricum in Latium).40 In the late sixth century, this move of
regional distribution centers from the residences of the principes into urban or rural
49 with bibliography; see also the two superposed figured frieze on the so-called Plikaśna situla from
Chiusi (Haynes 2000, 108–109 with fig. 90).
36 Prayon 2010, 12; Angiulli 2010; Damgaard Andersen 1998, 139–40; Heldring 1998, 13–18 especially
fig. 14 with the terracotta model of a small temple; for Caere see Izzet 2001.
37 Blake 2005, 121–2.
38 Nielsen and Tuck 2001.
39 Steingräber 2001, 18; Damgaard–Andersen 1998, 195; Heldring 1998, 18–25.
40 Jolivet 2010; Izzet 2007, 128–130; Heldring 1998, 25–29.

sanctuaries for the surrounding regional settlements was again accompanied by

lasting changes in the fields of religion and feasting.41
To get a clearer idea, it is worth looking at the black figures in the sacrificial scene
on the Ricci hydria in Rome around 520. On its shoulder frieze we can see a bearded
man with a long luxurious gown, a red cloak and a kantharos in his right hand—
apparently a priest supervising acts of sacrifice and the preparation of the meat from
the sacrificed animals, ready for the feast. We cannot tell from the frieze whether this
figure is a king or an oligarch with priestly sacrificial duties.42 However, there is no
high-ranking woman. The relocation of communal feasts from the house of the prin-
ceps to the central sanctuary of regionally associated aristocrats obviously meant that
the master’s high-ranking wife lost her role as feast preparation supervisor and was
therefore no longer in charge of the organization of these opulent occasions. This gave
her time and leisure to sit or even recline at the table, dine with her guests and enter-
tain them with her successful flair for conversation. From the second third of the sixth
century, this new commensal role of the Etruscan high-status women was suitably
celebrated in depictions of banquets which adorned the terracotta panels of palaces
and the walls of aristocratic tombs, following the iconographic examples of Greek
symposium pictures.43
Not only did this emulation of Ionic and even Attic culture impact the general
Etruscan presentation of banquets in contemporary images, but even its objects—that
is, its furnishings and dishes—became increasingly Greek from the 560s onwards.
Drinking vessels were now dominated by Greek-style bowls, and the dinos or olla
was replaced by the krater.44 The former splendor and Oriental-style exoticism had
been ousted by the ideal of distinguished “winemanship”, as practiced by the elites
of the late Archaic period between Lydia and northern Etruria. This symposial haute
culture was reflected in the microcosm of the banquet with its proper etiquette and
correct taste,45 which then influenced the behavior of the elite in the microcosm of
the increasingly urbanized centers of Etruria, so that the banquet became an instru-
ment that assigned individuals to specific cultural places in a stratified and refined
society.46
41 Becker 2009, 95–6.

42 Ricci hydria (circa 520), found at Cerveteri and attributed to the Ribbon Painter. Rome, Villa Giulia
Museum; see Warden 2008, 125–7.
43 Rathje 2007, 177–8; see also chapter 14 Colivicchi.
44 Izzet 2007, 211–223; see also chapter 14 Colivicchi.
45 Dietler 2001, 85–88, particularly 86.
46 Izzet 2007, 165–207.

204 Erich Kistler
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11: 121–133.

Fabio Colivicchi
14 Banqueting and food
Abstract: Archaeological evidence and imagery give a clear picture of the development of banqueting
as a social arena and, from the Orientalizing period, a status symbol for the elite. However, everyday
diet of the Etruscan population, in particular middle and lower social classes, was most likely much
more basic. Faunal and plant remains, dental wear and chemical analysis of bones offer the first tan-
talizing evidence of regular Etruscan dietary habits.
Keywords: funerary banquet, wine, komos, diet
1 Iron Age
The earliest evidence for banqueting dates back at least to the Villanovan period, spe-
cifically to its later phases, when sets of grave goods became progressively less basic
and began to include vessels for food, remains of which sometimes survive. Vessels
and food residues have been found both next to cinerary urns as the personal share
of the deceased, and removed from burial locations, in which case they are likely
evidence of funerary banquets. In addition, food offerings were burnt alongside the
deceased, as shown by the animal and plant remains found in the debris of the pyre.1
Funerary banquets may also be represented on some Villanovan urns decorated with
schematic seated figures.2
In northern Etruria and the Po Valley, components of the Villanovan burial
customs survive in the Orientalizing period. Here food is set on tables in front of
the cinerary urn, which represents the physical presence of the deceased after the
destruction of his or her body.3 In the exceptionally well preserved case of Tomb 85 of
Verucchio there are three wooden tables—one for drink, one for meat and fish, and
one for fruit.4 In the territory of Chiusi urns have strongly humanized features and are
placed with symbols of rank on thrones in front of which tables are set, as if the dead
is enjoying a banquet.5
1 Bertani 1995.
2 Rathje 1990; Tuck 1994; Donati 2005.
3 Tuck 1994; Bertani 1995; Esposito 1999, 55–56; von Eles 2005.
4 Bertani 1995, 55.
5 Tuck 1994, with bibliography.
208 Fabio Colivicchi
2 Orientalizing period
Between the Villanovan and the Orientalizing period the banquet developed, and its
function as status marker was strongly emphasized, a character that it probably did
not originally have.6 In fact, the transition to the Orientalizing period corresponds to a
dramatic increase of privileged status symbols, especially in southern Etruria, Latium
Vetus and Etruscan Campania, where elite burials are characterized by the ostenta-
tious display of valuable and frequently exotic banquet instruments.7 A new type of
banquet spread across central Tyrrhenian Italy, which centered on the consumption
of wine and meat. Individuals of “princely” status—a status that emerged from the
formation process of aristocratic clans—display a lifestyle based on truphē (luxury)
and habrosunē (refinement and splendor) and modeled after the Near Eastern courts
and the Eastern Greek aristocracies. The banquet ceremony is one of the principal
expressions of that lifestyle. The question of the origin of this social custom and its
modes of transmission is still open. The Greek component has been favored for a long
time, but scholars have recently turned their attention to the Near Eastern model and
the marzeah, a ceremony of the Syro-Palestinian area in which high-ranking individu-
als drank wine together, celebrating their ancestors and marking their own privileged
status.8 Direct acquisition of Near Eastern customs is confirmed by the presence in
Etruscan tombs of tripod bowls used as mortars to grind spices and mix them with
wine, following a custom typical of northern Syria and the Phoenician colonies of the
central Mediterranean.9 The presence of an attendant with a fan in one of the earli-
est representations of banqueting in Etruria, the urn of Montescudaio (mid seventh
century BCE), is also a typical Near Eastern element (Fig. 45.9). From Greece, on the
other hand, were imported wine vessels,10 for which the Etruscans used names bor-
rowed from Greek,11 and the custom of adding grated cheese to wine.12 It must be
remembered, however, that the banqueting with wine developed in the Greek world
after those same Near Eastern models, and attempting to distinguish clearly what is
Greek from what is Near Eastern is neither easy nor appropriate, especially in central
Italy, where the two components coexisted and blended. Between the eighth and the
early seventh centuries BCE, banquet culture became one of the most important com-
ponents of a sort of cultural koine that the Etruscan aristocracy shared with their
Greek, Latin and Cypriot counterparts. The model of the “Homeric feast” is not only
suggested by the comparison between the elite burials of southern Etruria, Latium
6 Torelli 1989.
7 See, e.g. Delpino 2000; Zaccaria Ruggiu 2003.
8 Rathje 1994; Menichetti 2002.
9 Botto 2000.
10 Delpino 1997, with bibliography.
11 Colonna 1980; Cristofani 1987, 124; Colonna 1989; Cristofani 1991, 70.
12 Ridgway 2009.

14 Banqueting and food 209
and Campania with the burial customs described in the Homeric poems, but is also
confirmed by documents like the “Nestor’s cup” of Pithekoussai, which shows that
the Homeric world was a constant ideal and cultural reference in banquet venues.
In turn, strong Near Eastern models have been recognized in the Homeric banquet
customs, and the settlement of Pithekoussai, even though established by Greeks, had
pronounced Eastern components along with Etruscan and Italic ones.
From the Near East also came the custom of banqueting and drinking wine while
reclining on a couch, which developed in the eighth and seventh centuries in the
Syro-Palestinian region, and spread to Greece and Mesopotamia.13 The reclining
banquet replaced—even though not immediately and not at the same time in all areas
of Etruria—the seated banquet that is still found in the earliest representations, such
as the urn of Montescudaio, bucchero vessels, and perhaps the terracotta figures of
the Tombs of the Five Chairs of Caere.14 The new fashion was introduced roughly
at the same time in Etruria and in Greece, as attested by the lid of the urn of Tolle
(ca. 630–620 BCE).15
In the Orientalizing period a complex ritual of food and wine consumption devel-
oped, which expressed the status of the participants by equating them to regal and
heroic figures, from the Eastern kings to the heroes of Homer, through the use of pre-
cious objects and the presence of assistants and musicians, creating a splendid, luxu-
rious and almost divine setting. The banquet was one of the most important forms
of aristocratic self-representation, and in South Etruria even replaced the traditional
warrior role in burial customs. A large part of the sumptuary goods acquired by the
Orientalizing elites is made up of banquet instruments of Eastern and Greek manu-
facture and/or typology. Near Eastern objects included cups of silver, bronze, glass
and ostrich egg; jugs of silver or mixed materials; metal flasks; red-slip dishes and
jugs, and bronze cauldrons on stands. The latter could be used to boil meat, a prac-
tice which may allude to divine status, since this method of cooking is mentioned in
Greek myths dealing with regeneration and rebirth and is thought to refer to the time
before the gods separated their table from that of the mortals. Their main function,
though, was to hold wine, as confirmed by some of the earliest banquet representa-
tions.16 From the Greek world came cups, kraters and other vessels, which were soon
imitated in workshops established by immigrant potters.17 Orientalizing elite tombs
also contain andirons, spits, and knives, all used for roasting meat. The association of
13 Dentzer 1982.
14 Tuck 1994.
15 Cerchiai and d’Agostino 2004, 263 no. 2.
16 Valenza Mele 1982; Torelli 1989.
17 Delpino 1997.

banquet with meat consumption and sacrifice show the protagonists of banquets as
mediators between men and the divine, fortifying their status and authority.18
An especially relevant question is the origin of the wine used in Etruria. For a
long time, wine has been considered an exotic import brought by the Greeks and/
or the Phoenicians along with the dedicated set of vessels and the related consump-
tion rituals. However, recent studies have demonstrated that in central Tyrrhenian
Italy, a type of wine was already known before the importation of Greek and Oriental
wines.19 The specific set of vessels for the consumption of local wine—a cup with a
tall vertical handle, and a type of amphora—has been recognized as well. Despite
the introduction of new types of wine and associated grapes, agricultural techniques
and vessels from the eastern Mediterranean, the local shapes and varieties of wine
did not fall into disuse. The study of Latin literary texts allows a level of investiga-
tion that is not possible for Etruria and gives an important point of comparison. In
Rome, the local wine, called temetum, had a ritual function, and its consumption
was limited and strictly regulated. Its sphere was very different from that of the Greek
and Near Eastern wines, which were spiced, sweetened, and mixed with water, and
were destined for communal consumption and designated by a Latin word borrowed
from Greek, vinum, which was also used by the Etruscans. For this reason the set of
Greek vessels for wine did not replace the local ones in Etruscan burials until the end
of the Archaic period. Unlike wine for ritual purposes, the wine for banquets was of
Greek and Near Eastern type, either imported or imitated. The shape of the Etruscan
wine amphorae of the Archaic period, modeled on Phoenician jars, is evidence for
the importance of the Near Eastern component in the development of Etruscan wine
production (Fig. 14.1).
The type of banquet which was adopted in central Tyrrhenian Italy in the Orien-
talizing period had strong hierarchical overtones, but integration and relative equal-
ity among the participants developed more strongly than strict exclusivity and elitism.
Very soon, social groups of good (but not “regal”) standing shared this practice, as
is shown by the quick diffusion of the sets of banquet vessels in Etruria and Latium.
As a result, the banquet became one of the most important venues for the representa-
tion and reproduction of the power of Orientalizing and Archaic aristocracies and the
complex dynamics of social relationship of these periods, both vertically, between
the highest ranks of the clan and their dependants, and horizontally, between differ-
ent clans of the same or other communities.20 In fact, the banquet was the common
space for the relationships between homogenous social levels of ancient Italy—Etrus-
can, Latin, Italic, and Greek. It has been rightly stressed that Greek, Etruscan and
Latin banquets cannot be considered identical and there are important differences
18 See e.g. Torelli 1989; Coarelli 1995, 207–8; Kohler 2000.

19 Torelli 2000a; Agostiniani 2000.
20 Zaccaria Ruggiu 2003, with bibliography.

Fig. 14.1: Etruscan wine amphora

from Miletus (photo A. Naso)
which cannot be overlooked.21 Nonetheless, these were not insuperable barriers. The
relationship of hospitality, which crossed ethnic and cultural boundaries, was estab-
lished primarily through participation in a common banquet, and the many cases of
aristocratic mobility imply the capacity of a foreign aristocrat to adapt to the banquet
ceremonial of his new home, since it was primarily there that he was required to inter-
act with the other members of his class.22
The model of Greek conviviality soon prevailed and the Etruscan banquet, like the
Greek, became the main venue for cultural communication and production through
the instrument of myth. Many of the earliest representations of Greek myth in Etruria
appear on wine vessels, and the Etruscan elite were avid purchasers of Greek vases
with mythical scenes depicting the core values of aristocratic culture. It was not by
chance that many of the most spectacular figured Corinthian and Attic vases were
exported to Etruria, and that at least 40 percent of all exported Corinthian craters
were found at Caere, including the crater of Eurytios, with a mythical scene that illus-
trates the role of symposium in relation to hospitality.23
21 Small 1994; Coarelli 1995.

22 Terrenato 2004.
23 Menichetti 2002, with bibliography.

Fig. 14.2: White-on-Red pithos with Ulysses blinding Polyphemus (from Menichetti 2002, 91 fig. 16)
The adherence of the Etruscans to the most typical aspects of Greek wine culture
is also shown by the popularity of subjects dealing with the correct use of wine, sym-
posium ethics, and hospitality, in particular the episode of Ulysses and the Cyclops
(Fig. 14.2). Moreover, inscriptions on wine vessels celebrating individuals recall a
custom of the Greek symposium.24 The Etruscan banquet, however, cannot be con-
sidered in quite the same light as a Greek symposium, an institution with very spe-
cific characteristics which developed over time and had significant variants in Greece
itself.
3 The archaic period

In the sixth century, banquet representations become more similar to Greek sympo-
sium scenes.25 The frieze of Murlo (580–70 BCE) (Fig. 14.3) represents pairs of reclin-
ing banqueters on couches, a cauldron on a stand, and servers with wine jugs. The
couples comprise a man and a woman and an older bearded man and a younger one
who plays a string instrument. The banqueting couples drink from different cups,
hemispheric for the mature men and two-handled for the woman and the younger
man. Tables with food are set before the couches. The scene looks very similar to con-
temporary Greek vase paintings. In the later series of friezes known as Rome-Veii-Vel-
letri (ca. 550–525 BCE), the couple on the couch is a man and a woman, with a server,
a player of auloi and two young men. In the frieze from Acquarossa (ca. 550–525 BCE)
there are three men on each couch, a server who pours from a cauldron, and musi-
24 Colonna 1980; Cristofani 1987, 25–26; Cristofani 1991, 70–71.

25 On Etruscan banquet scenes, see Cerchiai and d’Agostino 2004, with bibliography and catalogue.
On terracotta friezes see esp. Winter 2009.

Fig. 14.3:Terracotta frieze of Murlo, banquet scene (from Menichetti 2002, 85 fig. 9)
Fig. 14.4: Terracotta frieze of Acquarossa, banquet scene (from Menichetti 2002, 88 fig. 11)
cians (Fig. 14.4). As in the Rome-Veii-Velletri series, tables with trays and cups are set
before the couches. One of the three banqueters holds a long knife, an unusual prac-
tice typical of figures—especially Hercules—who do not belong to the symposium. It
may be a way of equating one of the banqueters to the hero, probably relating to the
other scenes of the series, where the labours of Hercules are represented as the model
for the deeds of a triumphant chieftain. A scene of komos appears on the frieze as
well, which makes this series of images especially close to Greek models.
Reclining banquets with specific features appear in the tomb paintings from
Tarquinia (ca. 530 BCE). In some, a husband and wife affectionately lie on the same
couch, and in the others, the wife sits on a throne beside the couch. These represen-
tations find close comparisons in terracotta friezes of Eastern Greece (Larisa on the
Hermos), and probably represent the banquet in the afterlife. Banqueting couples are
Fig. 14.5: Sarcophagus of the Spouses, from Caere, detail. Museum of Villa Giulia, Rome
(foto SAR-Laz)
also represented in late archaic terracotta urns of Caere (Fig. 14.5) and stone reliefs of
Chiusi, while in the reliefs of Fiesole only the man reclines while the woman, when
present, may sit on a throne beside him.
Etruscan women of free status were allowed to take part in banquets and drink
wine, a custom that shocked Greek authors of the Late Classical period (Arist. fr. 607
Rose in Ath. 1.23d; Theopomp. in Ath. 12.517d). Inscriptions on vases confirm the
role of women as custodians and dispensers of wine.26 This custom originates from
the strongly aristocratic fabric of Etruscan society, which gave elite women not only
status but also significant freedom of action.27 This is a feature not unique to Etruscan
society, but it appeared so to the Greeks of the fourth century BCE, when the culture
of the archaic aristocracies of eastern Greece—from many points of view similar to
those of Etruscan aristocracies—had disappeared and only in a very few specific
Greek cities did remnants of that lifestyle still survive.28 In these wall paintings, wine
consumption is emphasized and the set of wine vessels are depicted in detail, espe-
26 Colonna 1980; Cristofani 1991, 71.

27 Bonfante 1981; Small 1994; Rathje 1990.
28 For instance Lokroi in southern Italy (Diod. Sic. 12.21.1)
Fig. 14.6: Orvieto, Archaeological Museum, fresco of tomb Golini l,

detail (from Torelli 2000b, 254)
cially the krater, which may summarize the whole wine-drinking ritual or allude to
the funerary urn. Komos is frequently represented as a link between the human world
and the afterlife where the blessed enjoy their banquet. The Tomb of the Inscriptions
at Tarquinia shows a line of comasts, all men bearing different family names, who
move towards a painted door that alludes to the entrance of the afterlife.29 In this
case, the banqueting couple is replaced by a Greek-style all-male hetaireia (Fig. 6.1). A
further step towards stricter resemblance to the Greek representations of symposium
is found in tombs where the banqueters are men only.
29 Cristofani 1991, 72; Torelli 1997, 130.

4 The classical and late classical periods

Fifth-century tomb paintings are even closer to Greek and especially Attic models,
even though women are still frequently represented reclining on the couches. The
increased similarity to the model of Greek symposia should be put in the context of
the development of the Etruscan city and the formation of an urban society that was
comparable to the Greek, at least partly, in structures and dynamics. The symposium
institution of the Greek world was a powerful model for the Etruscan aristocracy of
the Archaic period, and later for the fifth century selected elite, who were still very
committed to this originally aristocratic practice, and used scenes of banquet/sym-
posium as standard model of self-representations until the early fourth century. The
continuing presence of women is further confirmation of the still very aristocratic
nature of Etruscan society after the establishment of republican state institutions in
the fifth century.
In the fourth century, the paintings of some elite tombs of Tarquinia and Orvieto/
Volsinii again show food on the tables, while wine vessels seem to lose their promi-
nence. Particularly in Tomb Golini l of Volsinii, a number of cooks and butchers are
represented processing and serving food to the masters on their couches (Fig. 14.6).
The emphatic representation of the ancient model of banqueting with ample con-
sumption of food may be put in the context of the dialectic between the higher aristoc-
racy and the new classes that obtained social and political recognition in the second
half of the fourth century. It is probably not by chance that these scenes—powerful
images of hierarchy, abundance, and effective administration of economic and human
resources—appear in the countryside of Volsinii, where local aristocrats retired from
the city before the political and social crisis that caused the Roman intervention, and
in Tarquinia, the watchdog of aristocratic order in Etruria. The general crisis of the
symposium institution in the Greek world itself should be also considered, which
developed alongside the crisis of the classical polis.
5 The Hellenistic period

In the Hellenistic period, the banqueter reclining on a couch is the standard image
of the deceased, both male and female, represented on the lids of sarcophagi and
urns. These figures frequently hold phialai or kantharoi, the cups of heroes and gods,
rather than symposium cups, and Dionysiac symbols are not uncommon. The tomb
chamber appears as a representation of the banquet in the afterlife, where the dead
enjoy their new status as heroized ancestors, some upright and some lying down and
falling asleep, ready for their rebirth.
6 Archaeological evidence for Etruscan diet

In spite of its exceptional cultural and symbolic importance, the banquet and its
display of abundance is neither representative of the elite Etruscan diet nor of that of
less privileged groups. Ancient literature and figurative art did not pay much attention
to everyday meals, and modern research on this matter is still in the initial stages.30
However, the analysis of vegetal and animal remains found in archaeological context
is supplying long-awaited evidence. Data from sanctuaries are useful but cannot be
considered representative, since they depend on the specific regime of offerings of
the various cults, which were often far from regular dietary habits.31 Food remains in
burials are also important, but those were probably special meals, both in quality and
quantity. Settlement contexts are a more reliable source of evidence for a more bal-
anced reconstruction of the Etruscan diet.32
The general picture which can be outlined after the analysis of faunal and plant
remains from different sites and contexts is relatively consistent.33 Hunting, chiefly
of deer and wild boar, along with small game such as hare and birds, made a minor
contribution to diet, especially in cities, where it is almost absent. Meat was supplied
by cattle, sheep and goats, and pigs. Cattle were usually slaughtered in old age, after
they had long been used for work, milk and manure. Pig farming grew more popular
starting from the Early Iron Age, and became especially important in the third
century. A shift towards pig husbandry is a general trend observed in all Etruria. Pigs,
which were very prolific and had low production costs, were a convenient source of
meat for a rapidly increasing population, especially in the cities. Since the majority of
sheep and goats were slaughtered when they were at least three years old, they must
have been raised for wool and meat, while the production of milk was less important
because a large amount of it had to be used to feed a large number of lambs. Poultry is
attested from the Early Iron Age and is common in the Archaic and Classical periods.
Fish is a less common find, or rather a find that has attracted little scholarly atten-
tion, but remains of fish have been found in settlements, sanctuaries and tombs. In
the tombs of Verucchio, there were both freshwater and saltwater fish, sea urchins
and seashells.34
Pollen and seeds found in tombs and settlements confirm the importance of
cereals (wheat, barley, spelt, rye, panic, and millet), as is also stressed by ancient
literary sources on the abundant grain production of Etruria. Legumes (broad beans,
30 For general overview see e.g. Giulierini 2005.

31 See e.g. Bonghi Jovino and Chiesa 2005; Donati and Rafanelli 2004.
32 Colonna 1989.
33 For a general discussion see de Grossi Mazzorin, Cianferoni and Bartoloni 1997, with bibliography.
34 On fishing in Etruria see Giulierini 2007. On fish in Etruscan religion see Donati and Rafanelli
2004, 154. On fish in tombs and sites of the Po Valley see Bertani 1995, 52–53.
lentils, chickling vetch, and peas) are fairly common as well. These crops are espe-
cially suited for rotation with cereals.35 A whole squash with seeds was found in a
tomb of Verucchio. Fruit complemented the diet and is well attested in archaeological
contexts. Hazelnuts are a common find especially in Villanovan tombs, along with
grapes and apples.36 There is also evidence for figs, pomegranates, elderberrys, and
other fruits and berries. A honeycomb was offered in a tomb of Casalmarittimo.37
Olive oil was probably produced very early38 and was an important part of the diet, as
in most of the Mediterranean region.
Archaeological evidence is important for the identification of the components
of Etruscan diet, but it is difficult to get a clear idea of quantity and frequency of
consumption. Great help comes from the chemical analysis of bones and the study
of dental wear, which clearly show that the diet of the Etruscans was largely based
on agricultural produce. Meat consumption was uncommon, probably occurring only
on the occasion of religious festivals and public and private ceremonies.39 The study
of a sample of the population of Hellenistic Tarquinia, middle-class individuals who
could afford small chamber tombs, shows that their diet was chiefly vegetarian, with
large use of starchy food, and meat a rare commodity.40 However, we can assume that
the diet of the elites was richer in animal proteins. A partial confirmation is given by
the animal remains of the House of the Impluvium at Roselle, the home of a well-to-do
sixth century family.41 Here, contrary to the general trend, the majority of cattle bones
are from young animals. The owners of the house were able to afford high-quality
meat, which was most likely consumed at the banquet, that powerful indicator of
status. The literary stereotypes of the “fat Etruscan” and of the decadent banquets of
the Etruscans found in Greek and Latin sources42 were clearly developed on the basis
of the banquets of the elite. In the context of the Roman debate on private luxury, they
could be used as an example of a once powerful people allegedly destroyed by hedon-
ism and moral corruption.
35 Bertani 1995 (Po Plain); Bonghi Jovino and Chiesa 2005, passim, with bibliography.
36 Bertani 1995, 45–47; Esposito 1999, 55–56, 70, 87–90; von Eles 2005.
37 Esposito 1999, 55–56.
38 According to Fenestella (fr. 7 Peter, HRRel.) olive trees were first cultivated in Italy under Tarquinius
Priscus, but his testimony is not reliable.
39 Fornaciari 1989.
40 Bartoli, Mallegni, and Vitiello 1989–90.
41 Corridi 1994.
42 Posidonius in Diod. Sic. 5.40.4; Catull. 39.11; Verg. G. 2.193.
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Jean-Paul Thuillier
15 Sports
Abstract: One aspect of Etruscan civilization for which we have a considerable number of sources—
textual, epigraphic, and especially iconographic—is sports. Images of games appear in Etruria since
at least the seventh century BCE, Contrary to what is often stated concerning a supposed closely-
followed Hellenic model, the Etruscans exhibited in this area in particular considerable originality
with respect to Greece, the most striking example being the social status of Etruscan athletes, who
were “dependents,” “servi,” and not full “citizens.” The Etruscans’ favorite events were pugilism and
horseracing, including the triga races that were unknown to the Greeks: the techniques of the Etrus-
can drivers were later adopted by the Roman charioteers. While funeral games are the best known,
thanks to the frescoes from Tarquinia and the Archaic reliefs from Chiusi, the Etruscans also organ-
ized public and sacred games and games inside their cities (such as at Cerveteri), and we must not
forget the ludi that took place in their sanctuary of the Fanum Voltumnae.
Keywords: horseracing, boxing, athletes, pentathlon, games
Introduction
One aspect of Etruscan civilization for which we have a considerable number of
sources—textual, epigraphic, and especially iconographic—is sports. Images
of games appear in Etruria since at least the seventh century BCE, confirming a
telling passage in Livy (1.35) on the reign of Tarquinius the Elder. Contrary to what
is often stated concerning a supposed closely-followed Hellenic model, the Etrus-
cans exhibited in this area in particular considerable originality with respect to
Greece, the most striking example being the social status of Etruscan athletes, who
were “dependents,” “servi,” and not full “citizens.” The Etruscans’ favorite events
were pugilism and horseracing, including the triga races that were unknown to the
Greeks: the techniques of the Etruscan drivers were later adopted by the Roman
charioteers (the agitatores). While funeral games are the best known, thanks to
the frescoes from Tarquinia and the Archaic reliefs from Chiusi, the Etruscans also
organized public and sacred games and games inside their cities (such as at Cervet-
eri), and we must not forget the “Pan-Etruscan” ludi that took place in their sanctu-
ary of the Fanum Voltumnae.
1 The sources: A favored theme

Jacques Heurgon’s wonderful book on daily life among the Etruscans was published
in 1961. And while many fortunate discoveries have been made since that time that
have, to some extent, modified our view of the civilization, and many articles have
222 Jean-Paul Thuillier
clarified aspects of our understanding, the lines dedicated by the French scholar to
Etruscan sports and games remain valid today:
Whatever we are best acquainted with in the manners and customs of the Etrus-
cans comes from their games, because, in the special form of funeral games, they
loved to depict these on the walls of their tombs or sculpt them on their cippi and
sarcophagi.1
In fact, we must stress at the outset the variety of sources available to us for
addressing this question, and that they are not severely limited, as might be the case
for other aspects of Etruscan life.
But first of all, remaining with iconography, in addition to the frescoes from Tar-
quinia or the Archaic reliefs from Chiusi, we must not forget what can be gleaned from
scenes on pottery, beginning with bucchero that is incised or decorated with more
sophistication (in both relief and engraving), which takes us far back in time, to the
seventh century: the publication of the olpē from Caere (Cerveteri) that shows, along
with Medea (Metaia) and Daedalus (Taitale), a pair of boxers in action illustrates the
Etruscan interest in pugilism already in the 630s.2 But black- and red-figure pottery is
not excluded: among these items, there stands out a necked amphora by the Micali
Painter, from Vulci in the British Museum, from the end of the sixth century, which
offers a collection of athletic scenes taking place alongside a pompa, the religious
interpretation of which is not yet clear.3 The importance must also be stressed of series
like the stelae from Felsina (Bologna) that have been carefully studied with respect to
funeral games:4 this glance toward Po Valley Etruria also carries us closer to the art of
the situlae, on which the ludi constitute a dominant theme clearly marked by Etrus-
can influences. And if we then turn to the other Etruscan “province,” in Campanian
Etruria, we cannot ignore the contributions of the Capuan bronze lebetes (“cauldrons”)
(Fig. 74.8), especially the Barone lebes, and no less the paintings from Paestum, for
there again, the scenes of games have a pronounced Etruscan stamp. Lastly, we must
not forget the interest of some athletic scenes incised on mirrors or cists.
The quotation given above might suggest that the literary and epigraphic sources
take second place. In fact, they make it possible for us to hone our views on chrono-
logical and social questions. It is almost a shock that authors as eminent as Herodotus
(1.167) and Livy (1.35.7–10) mention Etruscan games, even if their remarks are of course
presented from the Greek or Roman point of view; there are even several authors,
including Aristotle, who look into a subject so apparently trivial as the Etruscan prac-
tice of fighting to music: but in that case, the frequent interest in the customs of a
foreign people is sometimes coupled with the well-known urge to denigrate its soft-
1 Heurgon 1964, 193.

2 Rizzo 2001, 170–71.
3 Jolivet 1993.
4 Sassatelli 1993.
15 Sports 223
ness and its luxurious lifestyle (its truphē).5 As for inscriptions, while they are limited
to a few names painted (or engraved) alongside athletes shown on the frescoes from
Tarquinia, they nonetheless reveal the status of such persons, and they guide us to a
view of Etruscan athletics that is not the one that is traditionally proposed.
2 The earliest athletic scenes

The passage by Herodotus (1.167) mentioned above has often been used to locate the
oldest Etruscan games a little after the middle of the sixth century BCE.6 The historian
tells us that the Caerites stoned some of their Phocaean prisoners after winning the
naval engagement that has come to be called the battle of the Sardinian Sea (the battle
of Alalia) around 540 BCE. A series of omens ensued, and the Etruscans of Caere “sent
to Delphi wishing to set right their offense and did what the Pythia ordered, as they
still do today: they sacrifice to the Phocaeans who were stoned to death as to heroes,
and held athletic and equestrian competitions in their honor.”7 The presence of many
athletic themes in the frescoes from Tarquinia from the last third of the sixth century
seems to confirm the Greek historian’s information. This conclusion would be all the
more acceptable in that, according to some, the Greek model was imposed through-
out Etruria, and still more so in the domain of agōn, of athletic contests. In the history
of sport, everything supposedly goes back to Greece, and no one could possibly have
done anything but imitate the Olympic or Pythian Games.
This, however, is not so: the Etruscans did not have to wait to go to Delphi to
discover sports. Livy, in his discussion of the reign of Tarquinius the Elder (1.35.8),
notes that to celebrate his victory over the Latins, he organized—in a newly devel-
oped Circus Maximus—games more lavish than those of his predecessors. The spec-
tacle (ludicrum) included exhibitions of horses (equi) and boxers (pugiles) “which had
mostly been brought from Etruria” (ex Etruria maxime acciti). Thus in some Etruscan
cities at least, sporting events were known from the end of the seventh century: we
might consider the city closest to Rome, Veii, its perpetual rival since the foundation
of the Urbs. An incised bucchero vase, found in Veii in the nineteenth century, dating
from the last third of the seventh century, provides a straightforward illustration of
this proposal: on the belly of this olla can in fact be seen a fine depiction of boxing,
with two fighters in action, fists raised, wearing singlets.8
But Veii is not the only relevant Etruscan city: at Caere, as already mentioned,
a painted urn has been found, also from the seventh century, showing a boxing
5 Liébert 2006.
6 Heurgon 1964, 193–94.
7 Translated by Purvis apud Strassler 2007, 92; emphasis added.
8 Thuillier 1985, 57–65.
match,9 and today we know, from the same period and the same city in the tomb
of San Paolo, the aforementioned bucchero olpē decorated with mythological scenes
of Medea, Daedalus, and perhaps Jason, flanked by a pair of athletes in a boxing
match.10 Lastly, and still from the seventh century, a painted olla attributed to the
Civitavecchia Painter, who may have worked in the same region of Caere, places us
at a boxing match that is for the first time accompanied by an aulos-player – hence-
forth a constant in this civilization.11 The excavations at Murlo (Poggio Civitate), near
Siena, in northern Etruria, have yielded for the beginning of the sixth century terra
cotta plaques showing a horserace with young jockeys riding bareback (a sort of Palio
di Siena race avant la lettre!): in this way, Livy’s pairing equi/pugiles is confirmed by
Etruscan iconography from this early period. Which must not cause us to leave out
the bronze statuettes from Murlo showing two wrestlers and the referee, dated to the
late seventh century.12
3 The social status of athletes

As shown by the various literary and epigraphic sources available to us, as well as
other images that run the gamut of sportsmen, executioners, and clowns, it was not
the Greek agonistic model of the Classical period that was applied in Etruria at the
same time: this must be emphasized because, as has been recalled in the preceding
section, Etruscan sport has often been presented as a carbon copy of the Hellenic
agōn. In fact, while in the Archaic and Classical periods binomial personal names,
with praenomen and gentilic, were the rule for free men, for Etruscan “citizens,” this
is not the case for the athletes represented in particular on sixth-century frescoes.
So for instance in the Tomba degli Auguri (Tomb of the Augurs) in Tarquinia, which
includes training scenes, the fighter on the left is simply designated with the single
name Teitu, while his older adversary is called Latithe in another painted inscrip-
tion (Colour plate 18): the name is universally recognized as an ethnicon calling this
athlete a “Latin,” whether or not he really came from Latium, or whether it might be
a pseudonym, a nom de guerre. In any case, it is clear that these individuals stand
outside the class of gentlefolk, that they belong to a lower stratum of the popula-
tion, as Massimo Pallottino has observed.13 But the very fact that they were given any
name at all on these paintings is not irrelevant: these were real sports stars, and the
deceased (or his family) wanted these individuals—perhaps he was a fan of theirs—to
9 Martelli 1987, 260.

10 Rizzo 2001, 170–71.
11 Bruni 2000, 556.
12 Root 1973; Thuillier 1985, 70–87.
13 Pallottino 1984, 405.
15 Sports 225
accompany him in image to the beyond. For his tomb, Trimalchio had the same expec-
tation of his favorite gladiator, Petraites, whose name was to be displayed on many
artifacts (lamps, glasses, etc.; Petron. Sat. 71.6).
Other inscriptions painted alongside muscle-bound athletes, such as on frescoes
in the Tomba delle Iscrizioni (Tomb of Inscriptions), again at Tarquinia, confirm this
impression, since there too they receive single names, so that they are outsiders to
the gentle class. As for the incised graffiti discovered by Massimo Morandi beside
the fighters in the Cardarelli Tomb at Tarquinia, they refer to gentlefolk (velchasnas,
petui), but they are in fact the names of the domini of these athletes, of the owners
(including at least one woman) of these “stars” of the Tuscan ring.14 The fact of the
desire to individualize the competitors is the proof that these were real athletes who
really fought, perhaps during the funeral games, or more likely previously, in real
competitions: metaphorical or symbolic analyses do not take into account this fact.15
The literary sources tell the same story of the inferior social status of these ath-
letes. At the beginning of Livy’s book 5, where he describes the Etruscans as the most
religious of men, he mentions a king of Veii who was hated by all for his impiety:
indeed, in his disappointment at not being elected high priest of the Twelve Peoples
of Etruria, he withdrew the performers, “most of whom were his own slaves,” from
the games, committing a grave impiety. The Latin word artifices refers to both “circus”
and theatrical performers, and it is easy to see the status of these Etruscan athletes
at the end of the fifth century: “slaves” or in any case dependents. The status of the
Etruscan charioteers was surely no different, since even in Greece they were also just
technicians and might be of low birth, the real participant being the owner of the
chariot and horses: it was no doubt from the stables, among the stable boys, that these
charioteers were chosen, in the cities of Etruria just as in those of Greece and Magna
Graecia. The Etruscan charioteer Ratumenna, who, according to a legend attached to
the terra cotta quadriga from the Capitoline Temple of Jupiter, was of noble birth and
gave his name to a gate of Rome, is not at all representative of the status of Tuscan
charioteers. No more than in Greece, where there were lists of winners—Olympians—
did this prevent the names of Etruscan champions from being inscribed on tablets
and preserved, as can be seen on two Archaic reliefs from Chiusi.16
14 Morandi 1997.
15 Thuillier 2009.
16 Colonna 1976; Thuillier 1997, 247–51.
4 Athletic contests; Combat sports

Boxing was always the favorite sport of the Etruscans—alongside chariot racing—as
well as of the Romans. The preeminence of boxing is confirmed by the number of
representations in the sixth and fifth centuries, especially on the frescoes from Tar-
quinia, where boxers are sometimes the only athletes shown, and where they often
occupy a choice spot, for example framing the entrance gate like two guards poised
to threaten any unwanted visitors (Cardarelli Tomb).17 A popularity that can also be
seen on the funerary stelae from Felsina: boxing is at first the only sport represented—
sometimes alongside the biga (two-horse chariot) race—and we recall the sports
program detailed by Livy in connection with Tarquinius the Elder. But this sport also
occupies a privileged position in the decoration, with several individuals (the two
fighters, the trainer with the sponge, the musician, and the referee), as can be seen on
the stela P. Ducati no. 169 and also on the black-figure amphora of the Micali Painter
in the British Museum (B 64).18 The tibicen, the subulo (Etr. suplu, “aulos-player”), is
almost always found alongside Etruscan boxers.19 Several ancient authors note this
custom, some of them choosing to see it as a sign of the Etruscan “truphē”: a baseless
charge, since, as is easily seen in Thai kickboxing, which has nothing soft about it,
the musicians are there to provide a rhythm for the blows of the two combatants and
even to stir up their zeal for the fight.
It is revealing for the Etruscan taste for the “sweet science” that it has been pos-
sible to identify, on an Archaic relief from Chiusi, a ballet of boxing, with three ath-
letes boxing and dancing rhythmically, under the direction of an aulos-player.20 It
reminds us of Jean Cocteau’s observation that boxers are “dancers who kill.” Before
the discovery of a recently published Classical boxing scene on a relief from Chiusi,
a major infatuation with wrestling had been observed in this city especially:21 on the
reliefs as well as the frescoes from Chiusi, we witness a very spectacular hold in which
one of the wrestlers veritably takes to the air over the other: this athletic move, which
would mark the end of a round of the match—if the Etruscans followed the Greek rule
of three falls—in any case appears to be a hallmark of the Chiusi craftsmen. But other
Etruscan cities were not unfamiliar with this event, as the Tomb of the Augurs in Tar-
quinia and the black-figure dinos in Arezzo—which in fact came from Saturnia—bear
witness.22
17 Steingräber 1985.
18 Sassatelli 1993; Beazley 1947, 2.
19 Thuillier 1985, 231–54; Thuillier 2014.
20 Jannot 1984, 329–30; 1985.
21 Thuillier 1997.
22 Cherici 2003.
15 Sports 227
5 Other athletic contests

Did the Etruscans have a pentathlon? On the two main walls of the painted Tomba
delle Olimpiadi (Tomb of the Olympiads) at Tarquinia, dating to the 530s, in one area
there appear a biga race and a boxing match, and in another a collection of three con-
tests, with a foot race, a long jumper, and a discus thrower. The Tomb of the Augurs
(Colour plate 19) also shows the typically Etruscan game of Phersu: a hooded man
armed with a mace is attacked by a vicious dog goaded by a masked executioner. The
latter bears the name Phersu, or “Mask” (a word corresponding to Latin persona).
This has mistakenly been taken to represent a foreshadowing of Roman gladiatorial
combat, which, in fact, seems to have its actual origin not in Etruria but in Campa-
nia, as is clearly shown in funerary paintings from Paestum.23 The combination of
three athletic contests mentioned above might lead one to suppose that the Etruscans
also knew the Greek pentathlon, which included wrestling and javelin: an impres-
sion confirmed by the aforementioned amphora B 64 of the Micali Painter, where a
javelin thrower and a discus thrower are shown side by side, and especially by an
Archaic relief from Chiusi, now in Palermo, on which one athlete, depicted receiv-
ing his reward, holds both a discus and a javelin. But the absence of literary texts
and inscriptions leaves many questions open. The runners from the Tomb of the
Olympiads are sprinting: but is it a stadion (ca. 200 meter) race? Did the Etruscans
have events similar to the dolichos (a little less than 5,000 meters) or the diaulos (a
double stadion)? The depictions show that the Etruscan long jumper ordinarily used
dumbbells to improve his performance, and that the javelin thrower propelled his
equipment with a strap called an amentum in Latin (a very fine depiction of which
can be seen in the frescoes from the Tomba della Scimmia, i.e. Tomb of the Monkey
at Chiusi). In view of the clumsiness with which Etruscan artists portray the stance
of the discus thrower, this event was perhaps not very popular in Etruria. Certainly,
beginning in the 450s, and especially in Po Valley Etruria, many are the bronzes—
ex-voto or decorations on candelabra, for example—representing a pentathlete. At
Bologna there is even an athlete who cannot be anything but a shot-putter: did this
competition exist in Etruria?
As for Etruscan originality, the question of nudity is also an essential criterion,
since the Greeks themselves claimed athletic nudism as a trait that distinguished
them from the barbarians. While fully naked Etruscan athletes are sometimes encoun-
tered, such as the wrestlers of the Tomb of the Augurs in Tarquinia, the realism of
Etruscan art, in any case in the late sixth and early fifth centuries, grants us a better
understanding of some practices that the idealization of contemporary Attic art has
almost entirely concealed. Thus some Etruscan athletes are provided with an athletic
belt, more specifically a leash: the penis is cinched up with a short cord attached to
23 Pontrandolfo and Rouveret 1992.

a belt.24 The frescoes of the Tomb of the Monkey at Chiusi offer very clear examples
of this practice. Truth to tell, in real life it was not much different for the Greeks: a
few—very few—vase paintings, including a beautiful crater of Euphronios, provide
confirmation. The vast majority of Greek athletes had to wear an athletic supporter.
This is not to deny that, from the point of view of decency, they were naked. In this
respect, the Etruscans were not really barbarians; but the Etruscan artists were not
satisfied with copying Greek images: they really did represent local reality.25
6 Equestrian events
It is in this area that Etruria exhibits the most striking originality in sports: from the
beginning (seventh–sixth centuries) the success of horseracing can be observed, fore-
shadowing the situation and popularity of the ludi circenses of Rome. Once more it is
the funerary frescoes from Tarquinia and Chiusi that provide the most striking attes-
tations. The name “Tomb of the Olympiads” coupled with the 1960 Rome Olympics
contributed inopportunely to this impression of widespread Hellenization of Etruria.
On the left-hand wall of this little hypogeum, alongside the boxers, four bigae hurtle
toward the finish mark, a simple red post: the lead charioteer looks back to check on
the position of his competitors, and the fourth one falls victim to a wreck, a spectacu-
lar upset. The apparel of these charioteers is significant: they all wear a short tunic
to the mid-thigh, and some have a leather helmet. This dress has nothing in common
with that of the Greek charioteers, such as the Charioteer of Delphi, who have a long
tunic that falls to their feet and are normally bareheaded. Moreover, their techniques
prompt the same observation: the Etruscan charioteers tie the reins around their
waist in order not to drop them, while the Greek charioteers simply hold the reins
in their hands. When we add that the Etruscan charioteers wield a whip while their
Greek counterparts use a long horse-goad, the kentron, it is clear that there was a
great gulf between the horse cultures of the two peoples.26 On the other hand, when
it comes to the equipment and technology of chariotry, the Romans learned almost
everything from the Etruscans, and very little from the Greeks: thousands of docu-
ments big and small, mosaics, bas-reliefs, terra cottas, glass items, intaglios, confirm
this assertion.27
The types of chariot used in these contests are further evidence. The Etruscans
never raced the quadriga that is the royal chariot in Greece, where the quadriga
triumph was reserved to the social and political elite. In contrast, the Etruscans pre-
24 Thuillier 1988, pl. 1–4.

25 Thuillier 1985, 369–404.
26 Bronson 1965.
27 Thuillier 1999.
15 Sports 229
ferred the biga and even the triga, the chariot harnessed to three horses, with two
yoke-horses and an outrunner trace-horse: thus on the Archaic reliefs from Chiusi,
almost half the harness races are triga races.28 The Greeks never held triga races, con-
trary to the Romans, as we learn from Dionysius of Halicarnassus and from several
inscriptions recording the achievements of celebrity charioteers. In Rome, on the
Campus Martius, along the Tiber, there was a training ground called the Trigarium
because of the trigae that appeared there: the site with that name goes back to the
“Etruscan” period of Rome, under the Tarquins.29 The most recent argument in this
dispute concerns Etruscan and Roman interest in horse-acrobats (Lat. desultores),
who leapt down from their mount at some point in the race, or who jumped from
one horse to another, whereas neither Etruscans nor Romans ever knew plain races
with traditional jockeys (after the example of Murlo, no such depiction is found in
Etruria).30 This is another point of contact between Etruscan and Roman sports, and
another difference from Hellenic practice.
7 Religious aspects
Some favor symbolic interpretations, but it is clear that the paintings in the hypogea
are a remembrance of organized games in connection with the funeral of the occupant
of the tomb: the Etruscans used a ritual like that already described by Homer around
the funeral of Patroclus in book 23 of the Iliad. It is a stage in the rite of passage that
also includes the preparation and conveying of the body, not to mention the banquet
and the dances that are associated with sports in several documents: but the order
of these rites is difficult to establish.31 These ceremonies do not concern only the
deceased: the clan and sometimes the neighbors or the residents of the entire city are
tasked with this mourning that must be extravagant (Tarquinia, Tomb of the Bigae).
Athletic competitions, dances, and banquets allow the living to overcome this ordeal
and recover their strength for the future of the social group.32 The paintings, which
perpetuate the ritual efficacy of the games, bring consolation to the dead man, who
lives a life of idleness in the beyond. Observing the violent character and bloodshed of
Etruscan sport—for example in the boxing scenes (Tarquinia, Tomb of the Olympiads,
Tomba del Letto Funebre, i.e. Tomb of the Funerary Couch)—some believe that it pro-
28 Jannot 1984, 350–55.

29 Coarelli 1977.
30 Thuillier 1989.
31 Jannot 1998, 66.
32 d’Agostino 1989.
vided extra life to the deceased.33 Although a chariot wreck might prove fatal for the
charioteer, such episodes are quite realistic details from the world of sport.
While the presence of sports stars in the funerary frescoes from Tarquinia favors a
realistic rather than a metaphorical reading, it also illuminates the splendor of these
ceremonies, the expense involved, and so the social status of the families in question.
It is a matter of pointing up the rank of the deceased and his gens as the frescoes did:
in the necropolis of Monterozzi, only two to three percent of the tombs are painted.
Such an investment was not available to every family, and this is all the more true
of the games that are such a frequent theme on the painted walls. Archaeology and
iconography deliver revealing elements. Beginning in the seventh century, several
Orientalizing tombs at Tarquinia (the tumuli of Doganaccia, Poggio del Forno, Poggio
Gallinaro, and Infernaccio) exhibit a “theatriform” structure: a very wide dromos
[entranceway], resembling a small public square, often ringed on several sides with
benches to accommodate spectators, primarily from the clan, who in this way would
be able to watch dance performances as well as boxing or wrestling matches, within
the context of funerary games. Other religious ceremonies, such as sacrifices, could of
course be performed there as well. In the sixth century, a tomb like the Cuccumella in
Vulci, or a rock-cut complex like the Grotta Porcina, near Blera, with an altar or cippus
base, still had structures of the same type.34 Here the viewing public was doubtless
limited to the gens, but this is no longer so in the following case.
The Tomb of the Bigae in Tarquinia (ca. 500 BCE) exhibits a rare theme on its
painted walls: wooden galleries sheltered by vela and filled with a large, varied audi-
ence, men and women, and even, lying beneath the galleries, young slaves engaged
in erotic play. This image seems to illustrate the description of the Circus Maximus
in the time of the Etruscan king Tarquinius the Elder, such as is given by Livy and
even Dionysius of Halicarnassus. The number of spectators who are present at the
horseraces and athletic contests reveals that we are not in the presence of just one
family: we are well beyond the single sphere of the private, and it is not utterly out of
the question to suppose that the deceased nobleman was a magistrate of Tarquinia,
and that his descendants organized funerary games to which were invited at least
some of his “constituents.” In any case, it was very much the social position of the
dead man and his family that was celebrated one last time.35 Moreover, the presence
of women, who appear sometimes to occupy the place of honor in a gallery, reveals
their status in Etruscan society: such position, unknown in Greece, recalls instead
the Circus Maximus in Rome, which, according to Ovid (Am. 3.2; Ars am. 1.135–62),
similarly offered fine opportunities for the roués of the Urbs.
33 Jannot 1998, 67.

34 Colonna 1993.
35 Thuillier 1985, 622–35; Massa-Pairault 1996, 131.
15 Sports 231
Besides the funeral games, private or semi-private, organized within the circles
of the great families of the Etruscan aristocracy, there were also public and sacred
games offered to various gods: the organization of games to appease them, as in the
event of an epidemic—the conception of ludi as a ritual of proxy—itself seems to be
an Italic tradition, originally Etruscan and then widely diffused to Rome. Thus it was
in fact the city of Caere that organized equestrian and athletic games after the battle
of Alalia. And most of the major Etruscan cities must likewise have held games, for
instance to honor their patron god, on the model of the Roman Ludi Magni celebrated
in September in honor of Capitoline Jupiter. But the exact identification of the gods
or goddesses to whom the Etruscan ludi would have been dedicated remains rather
uncertain and often reflects the Grecocentrism that is so prevalent in this area.
The best attested games are in fact those that took place not at the city level but
on the federal scale: the only way the Etruscan dodecapolis expressed its unity each
year was in these religious displays and spectacles that must also have accompanied
lively fairs, central markets. These pan-Etruscan athletic and theatrical entertain-
ments were dedicated to Tin(ia), the principal god (princeps) of the Tuscan pantheon,
celebrated here under the surname Voltumna, which must have referred specifically
to his role as protector of the League of the Twelve Peoples. The Fanum Voltumnae,
mentioned five times by Livy, was doubtless located at the foot of Volsinii (Orvieto),
in the area known as Campo della Fiera, where promising excavations are under way:
perhaps they will be lucky enough to uncover lists of victorious athletes or chario-
teers, since two reliefs from Chiusi dating to the fifth century show scribes recording
on tablets the names of the winners of sporting events held in Etruria.
References
Beazley, J. D. 1947. Etruscan Vase-painting. Oxford: Clarendon.
Bronson, R. C. 1965 “Chariot Racing in Etruria.” In Studi in onore di Luisa Banti, 89–106. Rome:
Bruni, S. 2000. “Olla.” In Gli Etruschi, exhibition catalogue, edited by M. Torelli, 556. Milan:
Bompiani.
Cherici, A. 2003. “Il dinos etrusco a figure nere nel Museo Archeologico di Arezzo. Una breve note su
Saturnia.” AnnMuseoFaina 10: 483–97.
Coarelli, F. 1977. “Il Campo Marzio occidentale. Storia e topografia.” MEFRA 89: 807–46.
Colonna, G. 1976. “Scriba cum rege sedens.” In L’Italie préromaine et la Rome républicaine.
Mélanges offerts à Jacques Heurgon, 187-95. Roma: École française.
—. 1993. “Strutture teatriformi in Etruria.” In Spectacles sportifs et scéniques dans le monde étrusco-
italique, edited by J.-P. Thuillier, 321–47. Rome: École française.
d’Agostino, B. 1989 “Image and Society in Archaic Etruria.” JRS 79: 1–10.
Heurgon, J. 1964. Daily Life of the Etruscans. French original, 1961. Translated by J. Kirkup. New York:
Macmillan.
Jannot, J.-R. 1984. Les reliefs archaïques de Chiusi. Rome: École française.
—. 1985. “De l’agôn au geste rituel.” AntCl 54: 66–75.
—. 1998. Devins, dieux et démons. Regards sur la religion de l’Etrurie antique. Paris: Picard.
Jolivet, V. 1993. “Les jeux scéniques en Etrurie. Premiers témoignages (VIᵉ–IVᵉ siècle av. J.-C.).”
In Spectacles sportifs et scéniques dans le monde étrusco-italique, edited by J.-P. Thuillier,
349–77. Rome: École française.
Liébert, Y. 2006. Regards sur la truphè étrusque. Limoges: Presses Universitaires de Limoges.
Massa-Pairault, F.-H. 1996. La cité des Etrusques. Paris: CNRS.
Morandi, M. 1997. “REE 14–15.” StEtr 63: 383–85.
Pallottino, M. 1984. “Oriundi forestieri nella onomastica e nella società etrusca.” In Studi di
antichità in onore di Guglielmo Maetzke, 401–5. Rome: Giorgio Bretschneider.
Pontrandolfo, A., and A. Rouveret 1992. Le tombe dipinte di Paestum. Modena: Panini.
Rizzo, M. A. 2001. “Olpe di bucchero a rilievo.” In Veio, Cerveteri, Vulci. Città d’Etruria a confronto,
exhibition catalogue, edited by A. M. Sgubini Moretti, 170–71. Rome: L’Erma di Bretschneider.
Root, M. C. 1973. “An Etruscan Horse Race from Poggio Civitate.” AJA 77: 121–38.
Sassatelli, G. 1993. “Giochi atletici in monumenti funerari di area padana.” In Spectacles sportifs
et scéniques dans le monde étrusco-italique, edited by J.-P. Thuillier, 45–67. Rome: École
française.
Steingräber, S. 1985. Etruskische Wandmalerei. Stuttgart: Belser.
Strassler, Robert B., ed. 2007. The Landmark Herodotus. The Histories. Translated by Andrea L.
Purvis. New York: Random House.
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—. 1988. “La nudité athlétique (Grèce, Etrurie, Rome).” Nikephoros 1: 29–48.
—. 1989. “Les desultores de l’Italie antique.” CRAI: 33–53.
—. 1997. “Un relief archaïque inédit de Chiusi.” RA: 243–60.
—. 1999. “Le cocher romain, son habit et son couteau.” Nikephoros 12: 205–11.
—. 2009. “Un pugiliste serviteur de deux maîtres. Inscriptions ‘sportives’ d’Etrurie.” In Etruria e
Italia preromana. Studi in onore di G. Camporeale, edited by S. Bruni, 877–80. Pisa,
Rome: Serra.
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by D. Frère et L. Hugot, 37–44. Rennes: Presses Universitaires de Rennes.
Armando Cherici
16 Dance
Abstract: Dance is one of the oldest and most widespread forms of communication, a universal,
unspoken language. It is a language of artistic expression that is simpler, but also more powerful
and more involving; in it man neither shapes nor uses materials, but himself becomes the message,
the energy, the measure, the material, and the form. It is easy to understand how, in its expressive
immediacy, dance becomes part of the heritage of values that characterizes a human society, and so
it becomes a means of expression in individual, collective, private, public, and religious contexts.
In order to interpret a dance, especially in the ancient world, we cannot ignore the sociocultural
context in which it was performed, because dance is not fashion, but message. For Etruria, however,
we do not have such a plethora of sources as we do for the Greco-Roman world. To reconstruct Etruria,
we have almost nothing but iconographic sources and archaeological discoveries. Our understanding
of Etruscan dance is thus inevitably spotty, and based solely on images. From what we can see, we
do not know the names or types of movement, the rhythms, the music, or the song. We do not know
whether spectators were present, because already in antiquity there was private dance, done for indi-
vidual enjoyment—or in desperation, like a public ritual dance, performed as a response to or to make
visible the needs of class, caste, or community.
Keywords: round dance, serpentine dance, orgiastic dance
Introduction
It might be trivial to point this out, but our modern conception of dance—with respect
to its forms, features, and situations—is a long way from what dance has meant for
millennia in human society, and what it continues to mean in pre-industrial cultures.
Three examples to better portray what has been lost follow. At Lepanto in 1571, on the
verge of the battle that would decide the fate of Europe, the son of Charles V, John of
Austria, commanding one of the greatest fleets of all time, danced a galliard on the
upper deck of his flagship, a few meters from the Ottoman ship that was poised for
the encounter.1 In the heart of the Middle Ages, in the greatest cathedrals of France—
Auxerre, Sens, Amiens, Chartres—the bishop led the clergy in a solemn dance, which
wound over a labyrinthine choreography inlaid in the pavement of the nave.2 At the
threshold of history, dances accompanied the entry of the Ark of the Covenant into
Jerusalem, led by King David, in a garment that was far from a royal robe.3
Dance is one of the oldest and most widespread forms of communication, a uni-
versal, unspoken language. It is a language of artistic expression that is simpler, but
1 Caracciolo 1581, 35–36.

2 Du Cange 1710, s.v. “Pelota”; Cherici 2010, 224, fig. 8.
3 2 Sam. 6.
234 Armando Cherici
also more powerful and more involving; in it man neither shapes nor uses materi-
als, but himself becomes the message, the energy, the measure, the material, and the
form. It is easy to understand how, in its expressive immediacy, dance becomes part of
the heritage of values that characterizes a human society, and so it becomes a means
of expression in individual, collective, private, public, and religious contexts.
It is clear, therefore, that in order to interpret a dance, especially in the ancient
world, we cannot ignore the sociocultural context in which it was performed, because
dance is not fashion, but message. For Etruria, however, we do not have such a pleth-
ora of sources as we do for the Greco-Roman world. To reconstruct Etruria, we have
almost nothing but iconographic sources and archaeological discoveries. Our under-
standing of Etruscan dance is thus inevitably spotty, and based solely on images.
From what we can see, we do not know the names or types of movement, the rhythms,
the music, or the song. We do not know whether spectators were present, because
already in antiquity there was private dance, done for individual enjoyment—or in
desperation, like a public ritual dance, performed as a response to or to make visible
the needs of class, caste, or community.
1 Iron Age
We are not able to positively identify dance in the images of people that appear on
objects from the Early Iron Age. This is the case of the hut-urn from Tomb Selcia-
tello 45 in Tarquinia.4 The figures on its sides may represent actual images that were
painted on the exterior walls of an actual Villanovan hut. In a world like that of the
ancients, where drawing a picture meant to evoke something, we can eliminate the
possibility that such paintings were purely decorative. We do not know the message
that was to be transmitted, but we do know that there was one: may ancestors or gods
protect the inhabitants from whoever might come from outside? Are the paired figures
holding hands? Are they still, or do they move around the hut? These questions are
fated to remain unanswered.
In the second half of the eighth century, Bisenzio provides the first sure depictions
of dance. The Olmo Bello 22 tomb has yielded a bronze situla on whose shoulder and
lid are two processions of warriors, all the way around, bearing a small shield and a
4 Florence, Arch. Mus., inv. no. 21081.

16 Dance 235
Fig. 16.1: Bisenzio, necropolis of Olmo Bello, Tomb 22. Bronze situla
(detail). Rome, Villa Giulia (photo SAR-Laz)
mace or a spear5 (Fig. 16.1). In line, unambiguously facing right, they appear to move
in martial lockstep. The legs spread to express stability, the arms stretched wide to
increase the majesty of the figure following a technique well known from ethnology,
and still found in war dances (such as the Maori haka). The unison gait, the pose, and
the display of arms mark the potency of the group, which is underlined by the fact
that the figures are ithyphallic. The exhibition of the male organ is frequent in small
figurines, but here, this detail is emphasized in a display of virility and of scorn for the
enemy that is very appropriate in an armed dance, widely paralleled in other primi-
tive warrior cultures, from the Highlanders to the Zulu. A round dance is portrayed
on the lid; the men are equidistant and orbit an animal trophy (or totem) in the form
of a bear, bound with a chain (which, in this case, secures the lid to the situla). It
may represent a propitiatory rite for a hunt or for battle (given that in this period war
is an extension of the hunt), or a dance to celebrate a successful outcome, perhaps
the capture of the bear itself, the warrior animal par excellence, a wild counterpart
of man, which like him fights on foot and bares his breast to the enemy. In fact this
is the scene that confirms the presence in this phase of Etruscan civilization of the
sort of totem animal that is well attested for other populations of ancient Italy, the
most famous example being the She-Wolf of Rome. The round dance provides still
more information about the society that gave expression to it; it is a dance of equals,
there is no first or last in line, and no first or second rank. And these “equals” are
equal among themselves, but are distinct from those that surround them; again it is
the circle that declares this distinction, and it is the display of arms, the coordinated
synergy, the knowledge of the steps and movements, the very acceptance of the indi-
vidual in the group of other dancers / hunters / warriors that sanctions it. “I know
how to dance to Ares’ tune in the grim killing zone” is what Homer has Hector say, a
5 Rome, Villa Giulia, inv. no. 57066.

236 Armando Cherici
few decades earlier.6 Dance introduced these progresses of chorality and distinctive-
ness that we will find confirmed later on.
More complicated is the interpretation of the scene on the shoulder of the situla.
The dancers and their solemn advance are those of the lid, as are the direction and
the stance; they could be forming a larger circle. But they also could be taking part
in a different dance, a procession, because here there is an interruption—a man who
seems to be leading an ox, and another person raised above the others, who, armed
with a spear and facing left, seems about to fell the ox itself. What sort of dance or
ritual is taking place? It is difficult to interpret the depiction otherwise; the ox, as
much as the bear, is a symbol of power. The sacrifice of one could well be part of a
military dance. One last question: is it the dance of a people, of youths qualified by
age for military service, or the dance of a caste, of however many are qualified for
military service by belonging to a social class? We do not have what would be needed
for a response. In that period in Etruria, however, society was becoming complex and
vertical. There appear rich funerary accoutrements, and the conduct of war and of the
collective social duty, become the prerogative of the ruling class. It is probably more
of a status symbol, since this situla inspired by arms was deposited not in a man’s rich
tomb, but a woman’s. It is significant to observe how, at Bisenzio, the three groups of
grave goods that in this period include objects decorated with “narrative” scenes are
all for women, as if the woman was the custodian of symbols and memories. This is
the case for our situla, for the wheeled bronze incense-burner of Tomb Olmo Bello 2
(Fig. 10.1),7 and for the olla from Tomb 2 of Bucacce.8 The latter, dated to the end of the
eighth century, bears forty-eight female figures holding hands, divided into sixteen
groups of three, in red or black. A similar round dance is suggested a little later on the
amphora from the necropolis of Pianetto di Ischia di Castro, with five female figures
(Ischia di Castro, Bocci Coll.). We cannot say very much about these groups, other
than comment on the number engaged in the round dance, or at least in dances in
which they move as one. There seems to be a collegial solidarity of those who dance,
and an “exclusion” of the outer world.
So far we have encountered unisex choral dances, that happen in an unambigu-
ous direction. In the first quarter of the seventh century, a more complex dance is
found on the oinochoe of the Pittore dei cavalli allungati (Painter of the Stretched
Horses), in the British Museum (Fig. 16.2).9 Three men, identifiable by their brief gar-
ments, alternate with two richly dressed women. All have their arms open and raised,
and appear to be moving forward and in line, but while the women are immobile,
or in orderly movement, the men are performing the steps of a leaping dance, with
6 Hom. Il. 7.241, translated by Ian Johnston: http://records.viu.ca/~johnstoi/homer/iliad_title.htm.

7 Rome, Villa Giulia, inv. no. 57022/2.
9 London, BM, inv. no. 1849,0518.18 H242.
16 Dance 237
Fig. 16.2: Oinochoe of the Painter of the Stretched Horses

(detail). London, British Museum
Fig. 16.3: Amphora of the Painter of the Heptachord (detail). Würzburg, Martin von Wagner Museum
the two at the sides holding a pole (probably a spear) pointed at the ground on the
outer side of the line, as if to provide symmetry and borders. One of the female figures
displays a crown or a tambourine. We might see in it the geranos—the serpentine
dance—like that with which Theseus and Ariadne celebrated the liberation of the
Athenian youths from the Minotaur. It is impossible to be certain, just as it is impos-
sible to say whether the scene recalls a myth, represents an actual dance, or a ritual
that recalls a myth. What is certain is that this scene was present in the imaginations
of the amphora’s painter and owner, and whereas the first dances we looked at were
unisex and choral—done to reinforce the bonds of a group—here we have both sexes,
distinguishable by their garb, movements, poses, and props. The woman is portrayed
with measured presence; the man with an exuberance emphasized by nimble legs,
and marked by the spear. Two contrasted worlds meet in what the dance is meant
to express: the harmony of their union, of their coming together. It is a message that
continues to live in contemporary dance, three millennia later.
Another work from the first half of the seventh century—the eponymous Amphora
of the Painter of the Heptachord (Fig. 16.3)10 celebrates the strength and agility of
men. A chitharist accompanies five male figures performing backward somersaults
while brandishing swords or pointing spears at the ground. As in the example from
Bisenzio, this is a war dance—the Pyrrhics11—but while in the earlier one the choral
sense prevails, here, as in the London oinochoe, the display is more refined and indi-
vidual. The dance expresses nothing but the unambiguous movement on which the
struggle of the line is founded, but also proclaims the agility of the individuals, who
10 Würzburg, Martin von Wagner Museum, inv. no. ZA66.

11 For the pyrrica as danced in Etruria, see Camporeale 1987.
238 Armando Cherici
Fig. 16.4: Tragliatella, oinochoe from the necropolis (detail). Rome,

Musei Capitolini
accomplish various feats even while armed, emphasizing their ability to confront the
most demanding circumstances.
Physical prowess is needed in order to leap with the legs together, done by heavily
armed men in the war dance on the silver situla of Plikaśna, from Chiusi, of the mid
seventh century.12 At this time, war and military maneuvers had become a caste pre-
rogative, a specialized role that was no longer an extension of an activity that was
primarily collective and productive, such as the hunt. The armor of the infantrymen
on the situla was prohibitively expensive, and the sword—the main feature of the
scene on the amphora—can only be an instrument of war, and as such has become
the symbol of a caste, down to the rapier of the eighteenth-century cavalry and the
“sword dances” that survive in certain peripheral areas of the old Europe. Dance,
society’s mirror, expresses the rise of a specialized ruling caste. On the one hand,
it stresses the homogeneity, the synergy, the skill, the “enthusiasm” of those who
perform it, while on the other, it ratifies their distinctiveness from the rest of society,
like the galliard of John of Austria.
The oinochoe of the Tragliatella13 can be dated to the last decades of the seventh
century. Again the scenes on this vessel (Fig. 16.4) may be compared with the myth of
Theseus and Ariadne. The labyrinth motif incised here, identified by the inscription
truia, has been related to an equestrian military exercise attested from the time of Virgil
(Aen. 5.545–603), the lusus troiae. In fact, two cavalrymen seem to “come out” of the
truia, as a line of infantrymen might come out who would process in step, a step that
the unarmed individual at the side, who seems to be a mace-bearer, does not participate
in. It is not possible to summarize the hypotheses that have been offered, but I would
like to dwell on the drawing of the labyrinth. Well attested in the ancient world—includ-
ing marginal areas like Sardinia (Luzzanas, Tomb of the Labyrinth) or Val Camonica

13 Rome, Musei Capitolini, inv. no. 358.
16 Dance 239
(Naquane, Roccia 1)—the labyrinth reappears in identical form in medieval cathedrals,

drawn on pillars (Lucca) or on the floor of the nave, where we have seen it used as the
pathway for a dance led by the bishop, an authority whom we still today call presule
“prelate” like the priest who led the dance of the Salii in ancient Rome.14
3 Theseus and Ariadne

And now the time is ripe to explain why we have twice adverted to Theseus and
Ariadne. We open this digression, in part not Etruscan, because it allows us to clarify
how much of the ancient world we must read through the distorting lens of the primal
myth, of our modern difficulty in imagining the past of then. The Homeric description
of Achilles’ shield is unclear in one point (Hom. Il. 18.590–605), where Hephaestus
depicts a dance “made” by Daedalus for Ariadne. What image appears on the shield—
a dance scene? But how could he render its characteristic motion, described by the
poet? Perhaps Hephaestus reproduced a “choreography,” the pattern of movements
of a dance—but choros is in fact also a dancing-place. Hesychius helps by under-
lining the origin of the word: χορός = κύκλος, στέφανος; and in fact Homer recalls
here the motion of the potter’s wheel. In this dance, which comprises convolutions,
imitatus intortum et flexuosum iter labyrinthi (Aphthonius 6.60.1–6 Keil; Marius Vic-
torinus 1.16.14) similar to certain modern Greek or western Alpine dances, the for-
mation maintains its alignment either by holding hands, by a kerchief held by the
next dancer, or by a cord (“Ariadne’s thread”). The presence of such a cord is known
from inscriptions on Delos, where the geranos dance was preserved, celebrated by
the youths liberated from the Minotaur, the half-bull, half-human “monster” slain
by Theseus.15 The Minotaur—perhaps one of many totemic priests who led dances for
initiates dressed as animals, such as the cow-priestess of the shrine of Hera at Argo,
the bear-priestess of Artemis at Brauron, or the Hirpi Sorani in Lazio—would find his
successor in someone who would slay him in a ritual duel, as for the Rex Nemorensis.
But let us turn to the choreography that is likely to be identified in the labyrinth
of the Tragliatella piece. Aphthonius and Marius Victorinus were writing in the fourth
century CE. They note that lyric compositions are subdivided into strophe, antistro-
phe, and epode, and they explain this with the fact that “the ancients” would sing
hymns while circling around the altars. The first turn, toward the right, was the
strophe—that is, progress—given also by the cycle of the seasons; the second was
accomplished in the opposite direction; the third part of the hymn was sung standing
still. Always “according to the ancients,” at the origin of this practice was either the
14 Cherici 2010, 223–26, figs. 6–8.

15 Calame 2001, 56.
240 Armando Cherici
Fig. 16.5: Choreography with the movements of the strophe (signed +),
the antistrophe (signed –), and the epode (A and B), according to Chiarini:
1 = – A 5 = – A
2 = + B 6 = + B
3 = – B 7 = – B
4 = + A 8 = + A
dance of Theseus, or else the movement of the universe, in which the starry heaven
“turns” counterclockwise and the heaven of the planets turns clockwise, while Earth
stands still. At the origin of the dance of Theseus and Ariadne, then, stands the motion
of the planets. The musicologist G. Chiarini has recognized strophe, antistrophe, and
epode in our labyrinth drawing, obtaining exact rhythmic scansion (Fig. 16.5),16 that
“circulata melodia” imagined in Pythagoras’s movement of the spheres by Dante (Par.
1.78; 23.109), exalted in the labyrinth dances in the cathedrals. Why has modern man
lost consciousness of a “choreography” that Pliny the Elder recalls being traced in the
Campus Martius in Rome (Plin. HN 36.85) and that survived until the Middle Ages?
Because dance has received other forms of notation, and we have lost the perception
of the night sky, which the ancients would see as the goal of life and into whose con-
stellations they would project their mythology.
4 Archaic and Classical periods

Between the seventh and sixth centuries, the repertory of bucchero a cilindretto turned
to motifs of line dancing participants holding hands or linking their outstretched
16 Chiarini 2002.
16 Dance 241
arms, sometimes with alternating male and female figures.17 The positioning of the
arms and hands here is clarified in a relief from Chiusi from the mid sixth century.18
Women move hand in hand in an unambiguous direction, or with open hands and
their arms crossed with those beside them.
In the cilindretti, the shallowness of the relief prevents us from clearly reading
any of the scenes in which solemn dances (with figures whose hands are joined), or
livelier ones (in which the figures move separately), are accompanied by a gift to a
seated individual—a ruler or a god.19 In still others, such dances are connected with
scenes of boxing and armigers,20 an activity associated with public and political
worth in ancient society (see chapter 15. Thuillier). During the sixth century, dance
frequently accompanies such public moments. At Tarquinia, in the tomba del Letto
Funebre (Tomb of the Funeral Bed), a dancing girl is painted alongside a Pyrrhic
dancer and scenes of athletics, and a dancing cymbal girl appears in scenes of doki-
masia in reliefs from Chiusi.21
The Chiusan reliefs suggest dances at moments in between the public and the
private, such as the comploratio, along with horseraces, soldiers, banquet scenes
(presumably funereal), and prothesis;22 sometimes satyrs appear in the dance, to
underscore their otherworldly character.23
What was the social status of the dancers we have discussed? The warriors of
the great choral dances of the Iron Age belonged to what was becoming the ruling
class. On the Shield of Achilles, high-ranking youths dance—young men with golden
swords, and young women with “fine linen dresses, … lightly rubbed with oil,”24 as
in nineteenth-century Sardinia.25 King David dances. The Salii dance in Rome makes
clear that dance is a social ritual, a shared moment; those who do it are not profes-
sionals or hired performers, but persons participating in that which is appropriate to
their rank, office, and state. The histriones recorded in the Roman sources for the first
ludi scenici or for the annual ceremonies of the Etruscan League appear employed
by nobles and king; the actors in such performances, however, are persons of rank.26
The scenes met until now pertain to public moments, or private events—death—in
their public dimension. In the second half of the sixth century, the architectural slabs
17 Scalia 1968, motifs 30–31, 36–37; Camporeale 1972, pls. 26–27.

18 Palermo 8450; Jannot 1984, fig. 62
19 Scalia 1968, motifs 16, 32, 38.
20 Scalia 1968, motif 37a.
21 Reliefs: Palermo 8385 and Paris MA 3633; Jannot 1984, figs. 171, 174.
22 Cippi: Berlin 1222; British Museum D 17; Palermo 8396; Jannot 1984, figs. 492–95, 497–500, 284–287.
23 Cippus Florence without inv. no.; Jannot 1984, figs. 311–12.
24 Hom. Il. 18.596, translated by Ian Johnston; http://records.viu.ca/~johnstoi/homer/iliad_title.htm.
25 Bresciani 1850, 2: 113–4.
26 Cherici 1995.
242 Armando Cherici
of the Tuscania-Acquarossa series27 and the bucchero pesante28 display a moment

that is private and involves castes together: the komos, the orgiastic dance that con-
cludes the banquets of the men of the ruling classes. The dance is again presented
with doubled value, difficult for us to grasp fully. The komos explodes in a secret loca-
tion, but it is the climax of an event that identifies an elite, the banquet; it therefore
appears in decorations intended to be seen by a wide public, like the slabs that deco-
rate regiae and nobles’ compounds.
With the end of the sixth century, dances appear that are performed and cele-
brated for an exclusively private sphere. The Chiusan reliefs present dances of men
and women, associated with the banquet,29 as in the enormous murals of the Tar-
quinian tombs. We see these dances involving the servants but also the gentlefolk
themselves. Posidonius—four centuries later—tells us that Etruscan servants were
richly dressed,30 and that the silk veils31 and careful coiffure of the dancing girls can
increase the charm of alluring slave girls. But they all also have rich necklaces, and
if a young lady holds the olpe from which the wine is served (Tomb of the Triclin-
ium), another delivers the cup from which to drink (Tomb of the Lioness) (Colour
plates 27–31). Nothing allows us to exclude that at least some of these figures share
the condition of privilege of those who, on the same walls, come to the banquet.
Whether the “masters” were present or actually took part, the dances of the pictures
at Tarquinia are danced in the private sphere; they declare the identity and the cohe-
sion of the ruling classes and accentuate the distinction from those who cannot live
such happy moments. These dances show us that Etruscan society is connected to
a cultural stage that we can liken to a sort of humanism: the choral dances—unisex
or mixed, but always within a group—now are replaced by dances of individuals or
couples. While earlier, the movements were solemn or athletic, they are now involved,
ecstatic, and impassioned: the angled arms, the head bent forward or thrown back,
the twist of the torso express emphasis and a deeply felt dynamic; the garments
lewdly stress the beauty of the bodies. The graphic surrender of the dancers, steps,
and gestures are especially accurate. The Tarquinian picture repeats the knowledge
mediated by Attic pottery, but at this point the artist feels the need to stress the virtu-
osity of certain steps32 and the studied position of the hands,33 such as bending the
27 Winter 2009, III, Roofs 4–6.

28 Oinochoe from Città della Pieve; Florence, inv. no. 79734; Stopponi 1985, no. 2.8.
29 Relief Palermo 8373: Jannot 1984, figs. 550–553.
30 Ath. 4.153c.
31 Especially delicate fabrics are attested archaeologically in Etruria: Stage 1991; Good 1995. See
chapter 29 Gleba. Silk seems to have been found in the tumulus of Hochdorf (Banck-Burgess 1985)
and Aristotle cites the production of wild silk at Cos (Hist. an. 5.19.6 551b13; Day 1956).
32 Tarquinia, Tombs 3713, 5513.
33 Tarquinia, Tomb of the Lioness, dancing girl on the left of the far wall.
16 Dance 243
fingers backward as we can see in a certain small figurine34 and that is still today a
symbol of feminine grace.
We might ask if we are seeing servants or “professionals” in the dance. Perhaps
we are in a few cases, but the flourishing youth—well-dressed and self-aware in
the painted circles of the tombs—refer to the elegant amusements of a ruling class
enriched by commerce, open to the world and to joie de vivre, moments that now they
wish to immortalize for the afterlife. We cannot exclude the possibility that the choral-
ity of the dances that we saw in the first part of our discussion did survive. The society,
however, has changed, because it no longer feels the need to represent these scenes,
and continues to allow us to read ever more delicate and intimate details, such as the
couple with the woman with her arm on the shoulders of her companion, a drawing
found on mirrors35 and in small bronze figurines.36
5 Late Classical and Hellenistic periods

In the first four centuries of its history, Etruria reveals to us a paradigm that proceeds
from the totemic choral dance, from the ritual and collective sphere, to the unre-
strained, orgiastic dance belonging to a hedonistic class and to courtship in particu-
lar. These are different aspects and features of a cultural phenomenon that, again
in fourth-century Greece, is confirmed as a fundamental part of society, which Plato
provided for in his plan for the ideal state (Pl. Leg. 7.796c, 803e, 813b). In Etruria, the
iconographic sources on which we have based our fragmentary and partial journey
taper off at this time. The ruling classes develop other needs and other ways of rep-
resenting themselves and their power, and we lose the mirror of the elite, while we
continue not to know—nor will we ever know—the dance of the lower classes.
References
Banck-Burgess, J., ed. 1985. Hochdorf IV. Die Textilfunde aus dem späthallstattzeitlichen Fürstengrab
von Eberdingen-Hochdorf (Kreis Ludwigsburg) und weitere Grabtextilien aus hallstatt- und
latenezeitlichen Kulturgruppen. Stuttgart: Theiss.
Brendel, O. J. 1978. Etruscan Art. Harmondsworth: Penguin.
Bresciani, A. 1850. Dei costumi dell’isola di Sardegna. Naples: all’Uffizio della Civiltà Cattolica.
Calame, C. 2001. Choruses of Young Women in Ancient Greece. Lanham, Md.: Littlefield Adams,
34 Thymiaterion British Museum, inv. no. Br. 598.

35 Gerhard 1843, pl. CDXIV.
36 Bronze lebes from Santa Maria Capua Vetere; British Museum, inv. no. Br. 560 (Brendel 1978,
fig. 156).
244 Armando Cherici
Camporeale, G. 1972. Buccheri a cilindretto di fabbrica orvietana. Florence: Olschki.

—. 1987. “La danza armata in Etruria.” MEFRA 99: 11–42.
Caracciolo, F. 1581. I Commentarii delle guerre fatte co’ Turchi da Don Giovanni d’Austria. Florence:
Giorgio Marescotti.
Cherici, A. 1995 “Review of J.-P. Thuillier, Spectacles sportifs et scéniques dans le monde étrusco-
italique.” StEtr 60: 559–65.
—. 2010. “Otium erat quodam die Romae in foro.” AnnMuseoFaina 17: 201–33.
Chiarini, G. 2002. “Riflessioni sulla danza del labirinto.” Università di Bologna. III Seminario
Le Musiche dei Graeci. http://www.dismec.unibo.it/musichegreci/web2002/pdfchiarini/
chiarini01.pdf.
Day, F. E. 1956. “Aristotele: Ta bombuxia.” In Studi orientalistici in onore di Giorgio Levi Della Vida, 1:
207–18. Rome: Istituto per l’Oriente.
Du Cange 1710. Glossarium mediae et infimae latinitatis. Frankfurt-am-Main: ex Officina Zunneriana.
Gerhard, E., ed. 1843. Etruskische Spiegel. Berlin: Reimer.
Good, I. 1995. “On the Question of Silk in Pre-Han Eurasia.” Antiquity 69: 959–68.
Jannot, J.-R. 1984. Les reliefs archaïques de Chiusi. Rome: Ecole française.
Scalia, F. 1968. “I cilindretti di tipo chiusino con figure umane.” StEtr 36: 357–401.
Stage, J. C. 1991. “Extant Etruscan Textiles. A Working List.” StMatAN 6: 146–50.
Stopponi, S. ed. 1985. Case e palazzi d’Etruria, exhibition catalogue. Milan: Electa.
Enrico Benelli
17 Alphabets and language
Abstract: The peoples of central Italy came into contact with alphabetic writing as soon as Greeks
and Phoenicians—who had already been using it for some time—began visiting their coasts. Of the
two models, the Greek was preferred; it offered a complete alphabetic system of vowels that were
derived from the repurposing of certain Semitic letters that originally denoted consonants. During
the eighth century bce, the script appears to have already been in use both in Etruria and in Latium,
as is attested by a few sigla (isolated letters) and brief inscriptions whose reading and interpretation
are not unambiguous, which appear to belong to a period that was still experimental. In such an
ancient period, an epigraphic culture did not yet exist. Written expression remained a very sporadic
phenomenon; the great variability in letterforms derives from the fact that not even in the Greek world
had the future epichoric alphabets yet become stabilized, and different graphic realizations were pos-
sible in the same locality, including certain crucial choices related to the so-called “bound couples.”
(It. coppie legate).
The Etruscan alphabet as we know it came into being more or less in conjunction with the birth
of an epigraphic culture at the beginning of the Orientalizing period. The first real inscription known
to date dates to around 700, but there are a few earlier sigla (isolated letter(s)) that, at least in part,
must be written in this type of script, and not to the preceding experimental phase. The oldest of
these is probably the siglum recently found on a wooden vase from Tarquinia (ca. 730). In the Etruscan
world, epigraphy arose to meet a need that derived from models of behavior of the aristocratic classes,
to which is owed—to a large degree—the birth and development of that entire cultural phenomenon
we call “Orientalizing.”
The history of the Etruscan language and its epigraphy is divided into a series of very well dif-
ferentiated chronological periods. In general, “Archaic” refers to the period from the origins through
the fifth century, and “Recent,” to the fourth through first centuries bce. The Archaic period in turn
is divided into three parts endowed with very specific characteristics: an initial phase (corresponding
to the Early and Middle Orientalizing periods, ca. 730–630), a High Archaic (from 630 to the end of
the sixth century), and the Late Archaic. The language certainly had different local and perhaps also
social dialects, but their identification has begun only in very recent times.
Keywords: alphabetic writing, inscriptions, sigla, Etruscan language
Introduction
The peoples of central Italy came into contact with alphabetic writing as soon as
Greeks and Phoenicians—who had already been using it for some time—began vis-
iting their coasts. Of the two models, the Greek was preferred; it offered a com-
plete alphabetic system of vowels that were derived from the repurposing of certain
Semitic letters that originally denoted consonants. During the eighth century bce,
the script appears to have already been in use both in Etruria and in Latium, as is
attested by a few sigla (isolated letters) and brief inscriptions whose reading and
interpretation are not unambiguous, which appear to belong to a period that was
246 Enrico Benelli
still experimental.1 In such an ancient period, an epigraphic culture did not yet
exist. Written expression remained a very sporadic phenomenon; the great vari-
ability in letterforms derives from the fact that not even in the Greek world had the
future epichoric alphabets yet become stabilized, and different graphic realizations
were possible in the same locality, including certain crucial choices related to the
so-called “bound couples.” (It. coppie legate).2
The Etruscan alphabet as we know it came into being more or less in conjunction
with the birth of an epigraphic culture at the beginning of the Orientalizing period.
The first real inscription known to date, the “kotyle Jucker” (CIE 10159), dates to
around 700, but there are a few earlier sigla (isolated letter(s)) that, at least in part,
must be written in this type of script, and not to the preceding experimental phase.3
The oldest of these is probably the siglum recently found on a wooden vase from the
Tomb of the Warrior in Tarquinia (ca. 730).4 In the Etruscan world, epigraphy arose to
meet a need that derived from models of behavior of the aristocratic classes, to which
is owed—to a large degree—the birth and development of that entire cultural phenom-
enon we call “Orientalizing” (Fig. 17.1).5
What distinguishes an epigraph from other writing is the fact that an epigraph
contains a message that has been transmitted across a variety of media, which goes
beyond the mere content of the text. Other factors, such as the object inscribed,
its meaning, its importance, are indispensable for decoding an epigraph.6 For this
reason, the birth of an epigraphic culture is a complex phenomenon, which presup-
poses the invention, spread, and sharing of specific codes that allow the addressee
to grasp the sense of the epigraphic message. It also follows that in every culture
epigraphs tend to repeat a limited number of formulaic schemata. Etruscan culture—
despite the broad diffusion not only of the inscriptions but also of short texts that can
almost be considered extemporaneous (names and sigla written on objects of daily
use)—limited the use of epigraphy to a very few areas, mostly connected to forms of
1 Colonna 2005.
2 In the Euboean sphere (including its colonies), at least two alternative series are known with
respect to the bound couple gamma/pi: the preferred alternative is the hooked gamma and the three-
stroke pi (Jeffery 1990, 79–89, 235–48; Bartoněk and Buchner 1995), but there were also a lunate
gamma with two-stroke pi (which then became the form that passed into the Etruscan alphabet, as
is now documented by an abecedary with a samekh-shaped xi, as opposed to the usual cruciform xi:
Kenzelmann Pfyffer, Theurillat and Verdan 2006, 60 n. 3). In the Attic sphere there were at least three
different series: alongside the dominant one and the already-known script of the “Dipylon oinochoe”
(Jeffery 1990, 66–78) we now have a third alphabetic series that differs yet again (Langdon 2005).
3 Especially to be included here are the sigla (and perhaps brief inscriptions) on bronze objects
from the San Francesco hoard in Bologna, some of which may date as early as the close of the eighth
century (Sassatelli 1981–82).
4 Benelli 2013.
5 See chapters 45–50.
6 Panciera 1998, 314.
17 Alphabets and language 247
Fig. 17.1: Distribution map of the Etruscan inscriptions in the 7th cent. BCE
display by the emerging classes of society, which were concretized especially in the
sacred and funerary realm. Thus, despite a very respectable epigraphic heritage (some
13,000 texts, including the sigla), the number of attested words is quite limited, and,
above all, these words are nearly all concentrated in limited homogeneous lexical
fields (kinship terminology, names of vessels, names of parts of funerary structures,
and sacred vocabulary) (Fig. 17.2).
The history of the Etruscan language and its epigraphy is divided into a series
of very well differentiated chronological periods. In general, “Archaic” refers to the
248 Enrico Benelli
Fig. 17.2: General distribution map of the Etruscan inscriptions

period from the origins through the fifth century, and “Recent,” to the fourth through
first centuries bce. The Archaic period in turn is divided into three parts endowed
with very specific characteristics: an initial phase (corresponding to the Early and
Middle Orientalizing periods, ca. 730–630), a High Archaic (from 630 to the end of
the sixth century), and the Late Archaic. The language certainly had different local
and perhaps also social dialects, but their identification has begun only in very recent
times.
1 The script
The Etruscan alphabet originated as an adaptation of the alphabet used by the
Euboean Greeks, who were among the chief participants in the earliest visits to the
Tyrrhenian coasts. The respect that the Etruscans felt for this model was such that
until the end of the seventh century their abecedaries always repeat a sequence that
includes Greek letters that were completely useless for the Etruscan language, repro-
ducing the original Greek one, and not Etruscan real use. These included 〈b〉, 〈d〉,
〈o〉, and two different letters for ξ, one of which derived from the Phoenician samekh
(transliterated 〈ξ〉 and never used in Etruscan), and the other of which was cross-
shaped, placed at the end of the sequence as it was introduced in the Greek world as
a supplement to the original Phoenician order, and transliterated 〈ṡ〉, because it is
sometimes used for the phonemes /s/ and /σ/ (Fig. 17.3).
The order of the alphabet, as it appears in the abecedaries of the seventh
century (the “first phase” of the history of the Etruscan abecedaries),7 is in effect
the outcome of a combination of graphic models that were alternatives in the Greek
world. In the eighth century, however, the Greek cities had not yet developed those
alphabets that would constitute one of the principal hallmarks of cultural iden-
tity during the Archaic and Protoclassical periods. Different graphic variants and
options could circulate within the same setting, and from the Euboeans themselves
the Etruscans became familiar with forms later excluded from the various epichoric
alphabets (Chalcidian, Eretrean, and the various colonial forms).8 The availability
of alternative models is what really made it possible for Etruscan to introduce two
different Greek letters into its own alphabetical order to indicate voiceless sibilants
that never coexisted in Greek alphabets (except for a single rather peculiar Attic
abecedary). The duplication was the necessary result of the fact that Etruscan—
unlike Greek—had two voiceless sibilants whose precise phonetic nature remains
7 The history of the Etruscan abecedaries and the periodization of their development are fully
discussed in Pandolfini and Prosdocimi 1990. An update on the known abecedaries may be found in
the list in ThLE I2; see also REE 73: 7, 70, 118; REE 74: 9.
8 Cf. n. 2 above.
250 Enrico Benelli
Fig. 17.3: Etruscan abecedaries
under discussion. One was presumably /s/, while the other is rather uncertain, to
the extent that for its “phonetic” transcription its own conventional sign has been
invented, /σ/. In Etruscan writing, because of this requirement, two letters have
come to coexist: sigma (in Etruscan transliterated 〈s〉) and san (transliterated 〈ś〉;
the actual Greek name of this letter is unknown).
In northern (Roselle, Vetulonia, Chiusi, Populonia, Perugia, Arezzo, Volterra, Pisa,
Fiesole) and Po-area Etruria the letter 〈s〉 was used for the phoneme /σ/, while 〈ś〉 indi-
cates /s/; in southern Etruria and in Campania, conversely, 〈ś〉 stands for /σ/ while 〈s〉
stands for /s/. Veii and Caere were exceptions, where the need to distinguish the two
sibilants seems at first not to have existed, such that two variants of the same sigma—
one with three strokes (〈s〉) and one with four (transliterated 〈s̓〉)—were used to indicate
either one indifferently; 〈ś〉 appears only occasionally, with an uncertain reading. Yet
a third letter, 〈ṡ〉, could be used for both functions. Only much later, in the late sixth
century, did the convention of indicating /s/ with 〈s〉 and /σ/ with 〈s̓〉 stabilize.9
There is an entire series of exceptions to this general rule. The most striking con-
cerns personal names with a sibilant stem (praenomina and family names), which
come out with the letter 〈s〉 in both the south and the north. According to some lin-
guists, the sibilant would have always been /s/, and northern Etruscan would have
had specific orthographic standards for this /s/; in some cases, it would have been
written with 〈s〉 and not 〈ś〉. According to others, orthographic standards would have
always been the same, and therefore personal names with sibilants would be pro-
9 The history of the sibilant letters at Caere is summarized in de Simone 1994. See now Benelli 2016.
252 Enrico Benelli
nounced /σ/ in the north and /s/ in the south, simply according to dialectal differ-
ences. The question has not been resolved.10
Another feature that distinguishes northern and southern writing is the choice of
letters to indicate the voiceless velar /k/. The north adopted the simplest solution, the
Greek letter 〈k〉. In the south, however, a rather complex system developed: 〈k〉 is used
only before 〈a〉, 〈q〉 before 〈u〉, and in all other cases 〈c〉—that is, the sign for gamma
(in its lunate form, which is one of the possible graphic realizations of the letter in
Euboean writing)—which in Greek renders the phoneme /ɡ/, which did not exist in
Etruscan. This graphic rule (known as the “kacriqu rule” from a word found in the
inscription CIE 10159 that contains all three letters) gave rise to quite a lot of confu-
sion, but was gradually simplified, until the eventual disappearance first of 〈q〉, then
of 〈k〉. Beginning at the end of the sixth century, in southern and Campanian Etruria,
the sound /k/ was written only with 〈c〉.
The sole addition made by the Etruscans to the Greek alphabetic model consists
of the sign 8 〈f〉. Probably taken over from the Sabine alphabet, it appears in inscrip-
tions toward the end of the seventh century, and in the abecedaries only in the next
century, in connection with the suppression of the “dead” letters (〈b〉, 〈d〉, 〈o〉, and
in the north also 〈c〉, 〈q〉, and 〈ṡ〉). Its position, of course, is last in the sequence. The
phoneme /f/, absent from Greek, had originally been written with a digraph, 〈vh〉
(once in a while 〈hv〉); in far southern Etruria (Caere especially, but also Veii), where
there was considerable resistance to the introduction of the new letter, this usage
persisted until the end of the sixth century.
Word dividers appear sporadically already in the seventh century, while in the
older inscriptions words are normally not separated (scriptio continua). Only in the
Late Archaic period (late sixth century) does word division become much more fre-
quent, eventually becoming generalized. Cases of scriptio continua in the later period
are very rare.
A special Etruscan invention, probably originating in Veii, is syllabic punctua-
tion, the marking with dots of every letter (consonants and vowels) that occurs in
other than open syllables, but also of vowels apparently conceived as being outside
syllables. Most of the inscriptions with syllabic punctuation come from the sanctuary
of Portonaccio at Veii, but a small number have been found in other centers in the
region’s south. It was used almost exclusively in the sixth century, basically ceasing
at the beginning of the fifth, with the sole exception being in the area of Capua, where
it persisted a little longer.11
After an early period when texts were written either rightward or leftward (as had
also been the case in the Greek world), the Etruscans opted definitively for a sinistro-
grade (right-to-left) ductus, which remained the rule for the entire duration of Etrus-
10 See chapter 7 Benelli at nos. 26–27.

11 On the use of syllabic punctuation Rix 1968 is still valid.
can epigraphy. There are, nevertheless, a few exceptions. For example, in the same
southern area (probably centered on Veii) that introduced the letter 〈ṡ〉 and syllabic
punctuation, a brief reemergence has been observed of a preference, or at least con-
currence, of a dextrograde ductus. Captions could sometimes be written dextrograde
(for aesthetic reasons), and some very late Etruscan inscriptions are also dextrograde,
clearly under the influence of Latin (while the only known example of a Latin inscrip-
tion in the Etruscan alphabet is sinistrograde: CIE 2647). Boustrophedon writing,
especially appreciated in some geographic and thematic contexts of archaic Greek
epigraphy, is completely unknown in the Etruscan world. There are, on the contrary,
a few pseudo-boustrophedonic texts in which the ductus is always sinistrograde, but
every other line is upside down, giving the false impression of boustrophedon.
The use of line breaks appears relatively late in Etruscan epigraphy; nearly all
inscriptions earlier than the end of the sixth century maintain an uninterrupted con-
tinuity in the flow of the text, following a circular, serpentine, or labyrinthine course.
Only beginning in the late sixth century, following a major change in the conceptu-
alization of writing that probably matured in the context of the sanctuary, did line
breaks regularly come into use, even in the middle of words. On the other hand, the
simultaneous generalization of word dividers made it possible to avoid incomprehen-
sion in reading texts.
2 The language
The available evidence limits our understanding of the Etruscan language. Nearly every
inscription repeats a limited number of formulas, in which a good part of the text usually
consists of personal names (or divine names, in the case of sacred inscriptions). On the
other hand, the inscriptions that do not fit these formulas remain to a great extent not
understandable, because it is not possible to grasp—other than in a very generic way—
the meaning of a word attested only once or twice (or even several times but only in a
single text). Studies over the last three decades, however, have brought substantially
complete understanding of the structure of the language—albeit limited to the types of
text available to us—to the extent that, even when we are faced with an untranslatable
inscription, it is nevertheless possible to grasp the general purport and the grammatical
roles of the individual words (nouns, verbs, pronouns, etc.).12
12 The best overall treatment of the Etruscan language is Rix 2004, which is followed here to a great
extent. Also useful is Wallace 2008. For specific bibliography refer to these works, indicating at this
point only the principal contributions on which our present knowledge of the language has been
constructed: de Simone 1970, 1990, 1996; Rix 1981, 1983, 1984, 1997; Agostiniani 1984, 1985, 1992,
1997a, 1997b; Adiego 2006, 2009; van Heems 2009a. See also the critical editions of the principal long
254 Enrico Benelli
2.1 Phonology
Etruscan phonology has been reconstructed on the basis of Etruscan words transliter-
ated into Latin and, secondarily, of Greek words transliterated into Etruscan letters.
There is a series of quite individualized phenomena; here we will refer only to those
of general interest that are essential for understanding the principal facts of the lan-
guage. The most important point is the presence of a strong accent on the beginning of
the word (or at least on one of the first syllables). This led to the gradual loss of the fol-
lowing vowels, beginning with the one immediately following the accent (posttonic),
with the sole exception of those with semantic value. This is the phenomenon known
as “syncope,” or more specifically “Etruscan syncope.” Archaic Etruscan looks to us
like a highly vocalic language, with words composed primarily of open syllables; with
the passage of time, the appearance of fluctuations of vowel color (especially of post-
tonic vowels) leads us to understand that syncope had begun to operate. Nonetheless,
the archaic orthographic norms continued to be almost fully respected until the end
of the sixth century; at this point, with the onset of the Late Archaic period, the old
rules entered into crisis. The fifth century is characterized by the coexistence—even
within a single inscription—of vocalized and syncopated forms. With the beginning
of the Recent period, a new, completely syncopated orthography became generally
accepted; Recent Etruscan is distinguished by the presence of long sequences of con-
sonants. Some of these sequences are virtually unpronounceable, and it must be sup-
posed that in reality vowel sounds came into play to facilitate pronunciation; a trace
of this comes to light in the sporadic practice of “Etruscan anaptyxis,” the occasional
insertion of vowels into the longer consonant sequences, which often reproduce the
color of the tonic vowel.
Other phonological phenomena (monophthongization, fluctuation in vowel
color, etc.) are mentioned below only where necessary. There are also traces of dialect
phonology (such as the change e > i often found in Archaic northern Campania, or
the systematic θ > z in the Etruscan of Rome) that require further study for proper
interpretation.
2.2 Nouns and names
Etruscan nouns and names appear to us to be declined by means of certain suffixes

that were attached to nominal stems. These suffixes have one function each, and
they can pile up; this type of structure characterizes the languages called “agglutina-
tive.” It is very likely that Etruscan should be considered an agglutinative language,
texts: Cristofani 1995; Agostiniani and Nicosia 2000; Rix 2000; Maggiani 2001a; de Simone 2001-2,
2002, 2003; Roma 2002; Belfiore 2010.
as shown by—among other things—the rather generous use of enclitic pronouns that
could be added to sequences of suffixes.13
Etruscan seems to have had two grammatical genders, which in the broadest
terms can be called animate and inanimate. The two genders are distinguished by the
plural suffix, which in the animate is ‑r (preceded by a vowel in consonant stems),
in the inanimate ‑χva, ‑cva, ‑va. Nouns of inanimate gender do not have a plural
suffix when they are preceded by a numeral. Plural divine names can have either
the animate or the inanimate suffix. Only in personal names (individual or family) is
there a distinction between masculine and feminine gender.
Etruscan nouns appear to us to be divided into two classes, whose cases use
different suffixes. The first class includes all vocalic stems (except female personal
names in ‑i) and stems ending in ‑l, ‑m, ‑n, ‑r, ‑χ, as well as animate plurals. The second
class includes all the other consonantal stems, female personal names in ‑i, and inan-
imate plurals.
We know of only four grammatical cases with an acceptable degree of certainty,
conventionally called zero case (no suffix), genitive, pertinentive, and ablative. The
genitive of the first class is formed with the suffix ‑s (preceded by a vowel as neces-
sary on consonant stems); the second class takes a suffix that in the Archaic period
was written ‑a or ‑ala, while in the Recent period it is ‑al (but also ‑a in the genitives
of female names in late inscriptions of northern Etruria); stems in ‑θ can insert an
‑i- between stem and suffix.14 The ‑i of female personal names, on the contrary, often
disappears before the suffix. The pertinentive is formed in both classes by adding a
second suffix ‑i to the genitive; in nouns of the second class since the older period it
exclusively has the monophthongal form ‑ale (< *‑ala-i). The ablative uses a suffix
‑is for nouns of the first class, with ‑alas for the second class (it becomes ‑als in the
Recent period). In consonant-stem nouns of the first class, the suffix is always pre-
ceded by a vowel (as far as we know, always the same vowel that connects the genitive
suffix), while on stems in ‑a, the result is monophthongized (*‑a-is > ‑es).
There are a few other cases besides these that use the same suffixes without dis-
tinction between the two noun classes; the best known is the locative (with the suf-
fixes ‑i, ‑θi, ‑ti, and ‑iθi: the first and last may be involved in monophthongization after
‑a, e.g. rasna-i > rasne). Other cases (such as that using the suffix ‑pi) are too little
known to be able to determine their meaning. Some nouns can have two different
stems, for the zero case and for the others; the ones known to us with certainty are
13 When the Etruscan language is discussed in a general sense, the convention is that forms are
always cited using southern Etruscan orthography; the reason lies in the uncertainty of the reading of
the letter 〈s〉 in the northern area, as described above. Using southern orthography, 〈s〉 always denotes
/s/ and 〈ś〉 always denotes /σ/, with no possibility of confusion.
14 The best explanation of the appearance of this ‑i- is now found in Adiego 2011; notwithstanding
the indisputable overall value of this work, the lack of acknowledgment of the feminine genitives in
‑eal and the probably erroneous segmentation of CIE 10001 (= ET Ta 2.5) must be noted.
256 Enrico Benelli
clan (“son”) and Turan (divine name), which form all the oblique cases on the stems
clen and Turn.
The zero case normally indicates the subject or object of an action, thus per-
forming the functions that in other languages are carried out by the nominative
and the accusative. Additionally, it is used for the complement of the continuous
tense.
The genitive case takes its name from the fact that it is most frequently used to
mark possession or filiation, just like the genitive of many other languages; however,
the Etruscan genitive can also mark the recipient of a gift and a person’s age.
The pertinentive case occurs only in three specific, very well-defined syntac-
tic contexts. In gift inscriptions with a passive verb it marks the donor; in other gift
inscriptions, it marks the indirect donor (a subject gives something to someone—often
a god—on behalf of someone else); lastly, the name of the magistrate in date formulas
is always in the pertinentive (while the name of the office takes the locative suffix).
The ablative case is always used in agent complements—it identifies the agent of
an action expressed with a passive verb.
In addition to these cases there are several other suffixes, some of unknown
meaning. The better-known ones are ‑θur (which seems to us almost always to
occur on family names, serving to indicate the community of members of the
family) and ‑tra (usually translated as “by,” although recently some doubts have
been expressed on this score). Both of these suffixes are in turn regularly declined
according to the first class. There is also a postposition—ceχa—which is known to
us almost exclusively in the phrase clen ceχa, equivalent to pro filio “in favor of /
on behalf of the son.”
There are some exceptions to these standards, the reasons for which escape us
entirely.
2.3 Verbs
Etruscan verbs exhibit two main series of suffixes: those in final position (obligatory,
and therefore fairly clear as to their meaning), and those that occur between that set
and the stem, rather controversial as to their meaning because of the exiguity of the
documentation. Here we will concentrate only on the final suffixes of verbs, those
that are more common and well-interpreted.
There are no suffixes for the person of the verb. In practice, the Etruscan verb
form is always the same regardless of the number and person of the subject. Every
Etruscan sentence, therefore, includes an indication of the subject of every verb.
The bare stem, without suffixes, has imperative meaning; the suffix ‑a (conven-
tionally called “subjunctive”) is always used in jussive clauses, often negative ones;
the suffix ‑ce indicates completed action (it is a sort of perfect), and ‑χe is its equiva-
lent in passive forms; the suffix ‑e (sometimes called “present”) indicates continuous
action. There is also a suffix ‑ne, certainly passive, whose difference from ‑χe is not
well understood.
There are at least two forms of participle. The first, marked by ‑as(a)/-θas(a), indi-
cates continuous action; the second, with the suffix ‑u, indicates completed action.
2.4 Pronouns
The Etruscan language has a large number of pronouns, many of which also (or only)
occur as enclitics. The declension of pronouns partly differs from that of nouns; the
main difference consists of using a specific suffix, ‑n, to mark the accusative. More-
over, despite all the pronouns (except the personal pronouns) that end in ‑a, the
normal form of the genitive takes the suffix of the second class ‑ala (and consequently
the pertinentive suffix is ‑ale, although the actual meaning of the pertinentive of the
demonstrative pronouns is still under discussion, because it does not seem to be con-
sistent with that of the pertinentive of nouns). The ablative, on the contrary, is formed
with the suffix ‑is of the first class. There are two forms of locative, one with the suffix
‑i and one with ‑θi, the latter added to the base of the genitive. The suffixes ‑i and ‑is
change the ‑a of the stem to ‑e, but do not always bring about monophthongization.
The plural takes the suffix ‑va.
The most widely used pronouns are the enclitic definite article ‑śa and the demon-
stratives (sometimes enclitic) ica and ita, which in the Recent period become eca/ca
and eta/ta when not enclitic, and ‑ca and ‑ta when enclitic. The complete declension
follows, confined to known forms:
-śa: genitive ‑śla, pertinentive ‑śle, locative ‑śe; plural:15 genitive ‑śvla, pertinen-
tive ‑śvle, locative ‑śve.
ica: accusative ican; ita/-ita, acc. itan, itun; gen. ‑itala, ‑itula, pert. ‑itale, ‑itule.
eca/ca: acc. ecn/cn, gen. ‑cla, pert. ‑cle, locative cei, eclθi, clθi.
eta/ta/-ta: acc. etan/tn/-tn, gen. ‑tla, ablative teis/-tis, loc. tei.
The enclitic determinative ‑śa when it follows ‑s produces regressive assimilation
(*‑s-śa > -śa), while after ‑l it requires the insertion of ‑i-.
The difference in meaning between ica/eca/ca and ita/eta/ta is not clear; both
can indicate the object on which the inscription appears, so that they could mean
“this.” In addition to these there are other demonstrative pronouns, including some
compound forms.
15 To avoid misunderstanding it is appropriate to note that the zero-case plural form *‑śva cited in
some manuals is not securely documented; the three examples usually cited can all be analyzed, with
great probability if not absolute certainty, as inanimate plurals in ‑va of stems in ‑ś.
258 Enrico Benelli
Among the personal pronouns, the only one known with a degree of certainty
is the first person singular, mi (“I”), with accusatives mini, mine, mene. Among the
relative pronouns, an (“who”) occurs with considerable frequency; it is likely that the
form in (for which an accusative inni is also known) corresponds to an for inanimate
subjects. The meaning of many other pronouns is still controversial.
2.5 Other parts of speech
Etruscan adjectives are particularly elusive; they agree in gender but not number.
The negation is e/ei/ein/en. The most common conjunctions are the enclitics ‑c/-χ
(perhaps ‑ca in the Archaic period) and ‑(u)m.
2.6 Numbers
The Etruscan numbers from one to six are: θu, zal, ci, śa, maχ, huθ; in compounds θu
becomes θun, and zal becomes esl. Ten is sar, twenty is zaθrum, while enza must be
eleven or twelve. From the numbers for three, four, and five are derived cealχ, śealχ, and
muvalχ—thirty, forty, and fifty. The numbers semφalχ and cezpalχ indicate some tens
greater than sixty; given that they occur in notations of age, practical considerations
suggest they mean seventy and eighty rather than ninety. Repetition is marked with the
suffix ‑z(i); the form nurφzi is probably based on the otherwise unknown number for
nine. As for the compounds, the numbers through six agree in forming them with an
additive system, with the units before the tens (maχ zaθrum, twenty-five), from seven on
with a subtractive system, by means of the infix ‑em- between the unit to be subtracted
and the following ten (eslemzaθrum, eighteen). For the word cepen, certainly a quanti-
fier, the translation “all” has been suggested, which seems to fit in at least most cases.
2.7 Onomastics of persons
The basic structure of the Etruscan personal name consists of an individual name
and a family name inherited through the patrilineal line. This onomastic system is
common to most ancient Italic peoples, regardless of their individual languages,
ethnic identities, or historical and political structures; its codification in Roman law
guaranteed its survival until this day. The origin of the gentilic system, at least in the
Etruscan world, probably predates the beginning of epigraphic writing; some of the
earliest Etruscan inscriptions show it already in operation.16
16 On Etruscan onomastics in general see Rix 1963, 1972, 1994; Colonna 1977; Benelli 2002, 2011.
2.7.1 Praenomina
The praenomen is the name that identifies a particular individual; by definition the
praenomen must be followed by a family name. If someone has only one name and
no gentilic (as in the case of foreigners or slaves), it is called the “individual name.”
In the Archaic period there was an enormous number of praenomina, so when an
inscription contains no gentilic (which happens fairly often), it is nearly impossible
to determine whether it deals with a praenomen or an individual name. Also, many
Archaic praenomina are formed with the same suffixes as the gentilics, so an isolated
name can sometimes be interpreted either as a praenomen, an individual name, or a
gentilic.
The great majority of female praenomina appear to be secondary and are derived
from a male form with the addition of the suffix ‑ai/-i or, less often, ‑ia/-a, which is
common in many Italic languages, including Latin. Independent female praenomina,
however, do exist.
Already in the Late Archaic period, the number of praenomina began to dimin-
ish, until they were reduced to a handful in the Recent period. This phenomenon
nearly simultaneously affected every peninsular Italian people that used the gentilic
system. Beginning in the fourth century, almost every Etruscan was called Arnθ,
Aule/Avle, Vel, Velθur, Velχe, Larθ, or Laris; in the north of the region the praenomina
Lauχmes (or Lauχme) and Leθe are also found, while in the south, Latin/Italic-style
praenomina like Cae, Marce, and Tite were used. The female praenomina are Arnθi,
Velia, Θana, Θanχvil, Larθi/Larθia, Ravnθu/Ranθu, Ramθa, and Fasti/Hasti or Fastia/
Hastia. There are very few exceptions, and often they are exclusive to certain families.
One of the consequences of this big reduction in praenomina is the practice of abbre-
viating them in inscriptions, which became ever more widespread especially after the
late fourth century.
As is easy to guess, in the Recent period it becomes possible to distinguish the
praenomina from the individual names. It is highly probably that any name that
appears alone in an inscription and that is not included in the small set of accepted
praenomina, is an individual name. This is especially important considering that the
epigraphic record of the Recent period is much fuller than that of the Archaic, and
reaches a larger portion of society. Even subordinate social groups—whose economic
success was facilitated by the general conditions of Middle and Late Hellenistic Italy—
were able to achieve their own epigraphic expression, a fact that in the exclusionary
Archaic epigraphic practice had been all but impossible.
Also confined almost entirely to the Recent period is the appearance in inscrip-
tions of altered forms of praenomina, which are usually considered diminutives/
hypocoristics. Among the most common constructions are those with the suffixes ‑za
(male: Arnza, Larza), ‑cu (female: Θanicu). Given that these forms never appear in
260 Enrico Benelli
filiations,17 it is highly likely that they are not official praenomina, but formations
used exclusively within the family.18
There is a series of epigraphic occurrences typical of the Recent period that
involve the praenomen. The most widespread is the reversal of praenomen and gen-
tilic, which occurs in the southern region, especially Tarquinia, reaching its peak of
attestation during the third century.19 Another is the omission of the female praeno-
men, which is found especially in the area of Chiusi throughout the second century
only to disappear almost completely toward the end of the century; in this case, it
is likely that there was a desire to reproduce the onomastic formula used by Roman
women (for whom, uniquely in Italy, the praenomen was not part of the official name).
2.7.2 Gentilics and cognomina
The gentilic is the family name transmitted through the patrilinear line; the cognomen
is a second family name, also transmitted through the patrilinear line, which serves
to distinguish the various branches of a family. The use of the cognomen is limited
to a few geographic and cultural environments, and nearly exclusively in the Recent
period, and will be dealt with further on.
The gentilic is essentially a patronymic adjective—that is, it identifies a group of
individuals who can trace their own family tree back to a common ancestor (real or
imaginary). Many gentilics are formed using a limited number of suffixes. The most
common is ‑na, followed by ‑ie, which is nothing but an Etruscan importation of
the Latin/Italic suffix ‑ios, which has exactly the same function. These two suffixes
can also be found together (-na-ie; much rarer is the opposite case ‑ie-na, in which
a simple gentilic in ‑na can often be recognized, with the ‑ie already present in the
individual name / praenomen added to the base of the gentilic itself: for example,
Velθiena is Velθie-na). The double suffix ‑naie in the Recent period evolves into ‑ne or
‑ni (the latter preferred in Perugia, found in Cortona, rare in Chiusi, and manifested
in parallel with a possible evolution ‑ie > -i that can be found in the same areas, espe-
cially—but not only—when ‑ie follows a stem ending with ‑n: for example Latinie >
Latini).
Other suffixes that are fairly common in the formation of gentilics are ‑u, ‑ane,
and ‑ate, the last two of which primarily refer to a geographic origin (for the first
of them, comparison with Latin/Italic ‑anos, of identical function, is inevitable: for
example Campane, Laucane = Campanus, Lucanus, etc.). A special class of gentilics is
17 In Etruscan epigraphy, a filiation is the father’s name in the genitive, while a patronymic is an
adjectival form of the father’s name.
18 Most recently van Heems 2008, with previous literature.
19 An attempt to map the phenomenon is found in Maggiani 2007b.
constructed with the suffix ‑alu, probably of Celtic origin (the suffix ‑alo was used in
the ancient Celtic language of northern Italy, the so-called “Lepontic,” to form patro-
nymic adjectives). These gentilics appear to be concentrated especially in the Etrus-
can Po region, and also with higher frequency in northern Etruria proper (especially
Chiusi). In view of the primarily late chronology of these last attestations, it must be
asked whether they might not concern refugees from Po Etruria after the great Celtic
invasion of the fourth century.20
There are also gentilics with apparently anomalous suffixes, the most strik-
ing case of which is the gentilics in ‑e, which sometimes appear identical to certain
praenomina. In many cases it is possible to reconstruct the phonetic history of these
names, which attests that ‑e would be the outcome of an Archaic ‑aie, which evolved
by the loss of the intervocalic i and contraction of ae > e. The best-documented cases
are Leθaie > Leθae > Leθe and Velχaie > Velχae > Velχe, but there are many others (such
as Pupaie > *Pupae > Pupe). They are thus ordinary gentilics in ‑ie; the identity with
the praenomina derives from the fact that these too had been formed with the suffix ‑ie
(a frequent occurrence in the Archaic period). In the area where ‑naie could yield the
Recent outcome in ‑ni, and ‑ie in ‑i, these onomastic formations risingly often have an
outcome ‑i that distinguishes it from the corresponding praenomina (for example, the
gentilic Velχe is Velχei at Perugia).
Entirely different is the case of the “individual name gentilics,” or gentilics that
are identical to individual names and have no gentilic suffix at all. It is very likely that
these gentilics preserve a trace of the admission to citizenship of persons or families
who originally had no gentilic, foreigners or slaves, in view of the notable similarity
with the process of acquisition of a gentilic by freed slaves (see below). Foreign origin
in some cases is obvious in the very form of the gentilic. It is likely that many of these
acquisitions of citizenship took place in a rather early period, so as to have permit-
ted sometimes quite amazing careers to these families. One thinks of the members of
the Tarquinian Velχa family, whose gentilic is identical with the individual name on
which the praenomen and the gentilic Velχaie are built, as has been indicated, and
which, when it appears in the epigraphic record, are securely installed at the head of
local society.21
All the gentilics, regardless of their various origins, have a feminine normally
formed by adding the suffix ‑i; less common is the suffix ‑ia/-a, which was preferred,
especially with masculines in ‑i (except for those in ‑ni, where the feminine is nor-
mally the same as the masculine). As for gentilics with a masculine in ‑a, the feminine
ending ‑a-i can evolve into ‑ei and sometimes further into ‑e; if the masculine ends
with ‑(i)e, the feminine normally evolves into ‑i.
20 Most recently Govi 2006 (to be used with caution), with previous literature.
21 Morandi Tarabella 2004, 179–96.
262 Enrico Benelli
A separate case consists of unsuffixed gentilics, which are especially widespread

in the area of Volsinii and Chiusi, where the unsuffixed forms are more often cog-
nomina. These are entirely anomalous forms, in some cases formally identical with
divine names (Hercle, Caθa, Tins) or nouns, which are distinguished from all other
family names (including the “individual name gentilics”) by their analogical femi-
nine form that is constructed by adding ‑nei (sometimes ‑nia in cognomina) to the
masculine base form, which clearly was perceived as lacking any suffix.
Cognomina, although they are already found (though extremely rarely) in the
Archaic period, spread especially in the Recent period; they are attested especially
at Perugia and Chiusi, less commonly elsewhere. Typical for Perugia are cognomina
formed with the suffix ‑na (which is fairly rare among Perugine gentilics in contrast
to the rest of Etruria); in all other cities—especially Chiusi—the cognomen forms are
highly varied, and commonly unsuffixed. In the cities where cognomina are more fre-
quent (Chiusi and Perugia), the inscriptions can omit the gentilic. Peculiar to Chiusi
is the attachment of the enclitic definite article to some cognomina (never to the femi-
nine).
In conclusion, it is necessary to mention the phenomenon of the so-called “func-
tionless genitive,” which is found throughout Etruria beginning in the last decades of
the seventh century. From the beginning of the sixth century onward, every gentilic
(except for those with the double suffix ‑na-ie and the rare unsuffixed ones ending
with a consonant) appears with the added desinence ‑s—formally identical to the gen-
itive—which does not involve declension (in practice, the zero case and the genitive
fall together). In connection with this phenomenon, the masculine form of the gentilic
extended in this way can also be used in female onomastic formulas (as happened
especially at Caere, but also elsewhere). The regularity is such that the “functionless
genitive” must have derived from some standard that was widely shared by all the
Etruscan cities—certainly not a linguistic standard, but an onomastic one. This form
continued to be used everywhere until the end of the fourth century, and disappeared
gradually during the third, with the sole exception of Perugia, where the gentilics still
continued to appear with the “functionless genitive” in great profusion throughout
the second century, if not beyond. Cognomina, too, can have the “functionless geni-
tive,” in a few cases even separately from a gentilic, which happens especially during
the period of gradual disappearance of this form, between the second half of the third
century and the beginning of the second.22
22 On this phenomenon Maggiani 2000.

2.7.3 Filiation
Filiations, which almost exclusively appear in Recent period inscriptions, are formed
from the praenomen of the father in the genitive, unmarked or with the enclitic defi-
nite article, or else followed by clan (“son”) or seχ (“daughter”). If the praenomen is
abbreviated, the qualification does not appear. The only exception is found at Caere,
where beginning in the first half of the third century, the abbreviated paternal prae-
nomen can be followed by the siglum c or s (for clan or seχ respectively). This practice
at Caere in all probability conforms to Roman epigraphic traditions as a result of the
admission of its residents to Roman citizenship, albeit sine suffragio, at some point
between 390 and 270. Very rare is the citation of ancestors other than the father; indi-
cation of a grandfather can be followed by papals (“grandchild”).
2.7.4 Matronymic and gamonymic
The official onomastic formula of the Etruscan citizen, as is the case in all the civiliza-
tions of the Italian peninsula, consisted of praenomen, gentilic, and filiation. Every
other element was an addition that could aid in more closely identifying the person,
but it was not part of his name as it was officially registered. The matronymic (name
of the mother) and the gamonymic (name of the husband) are the most widespread of
these unofficial elements, and they owe their frequency to the special concentration of
Etruscan inscriptions in family funerary complexes. After occasional Archaic appear-
ances, matronymics and gamonymics find their apotheosis in the long inscriptions
displayed in the tombs of the great southern Etruscan (especially Tarquinian) families
of the fourth century whose purpose was to record the matrimonial ties that cemented
alliances between the families of the city’s highest aristocracy. But the greatest spread
of the use of these onomastic elements began in the early second century in the area
of Chiusi and Perugia, with the purpose of correctly identifying the great number of
decedents that crowded the funerary chambers—since the use of cremation in north-
ern Etruria made it possible to include in any tomb a number of depositions far greater
than was the practice in the southern region. If we recall that in this period very few
praenomina were used (many families tended to have no more than three or four), we
understand how within a genealogy, matronymy could take on an identificatory func-
tion far greater than that of the filiation. It is true, though, that in more recent Clusine
and Perusine funerary epigraphy, even the filiation itself can be omitted.
The matronymic usually consists of the mother’s gentilic (sometimes the cogno-
men, occasionally both) in the genitive, possibly followed by the enclitic definite article;
in a few rare cases the praenomen can also appear, or even the praenomen alone, again
sometimes with the enclitic definite article. In a few cases the qualifier clan or seχ
appears, and matronymic and filiation can be can be linked together by a conjunction
264 Enrico Benelli
The gamonymic consists of the gentilic (and/or the cognomen) of the husband in
the genitive, sometimes accompanied by the praenomen; in a few cases the qualifier
puia (“wife”) appears. The use of the enclitic definite article seems to relate to local
epigraphic traditions: at Chiusi nearly always, at Perugia never.
2.7.5 Slaves and freedmen
The names of slaves consist of an individual name followed by the owner’s gentilic in
the genitive, according to the most widespread formula in all Classical civilizations.
In the Archaic period, the owner’s gentilic in the genitive is followed by an enclitic
pronoun ‑sa (not to be confused with the definite article ‑śa), which disambiguates
the slave formula. In fact, if we recall that many different praenomina were in use in
this period, and the gentilics normally appear in the “functionless genitive,” the use
of a simple genitive might have made it possible to confuse the name of a slave with
that of a free man. In the Recent period, when this risk no longer existed, the pronoun
‑sa disappears. The nonoccurrence of the first onomastic element in the restricted
group of praenomina made it easy enough to identify the slave.
The freed slave becomes a citizen (we do not know what rights he had), and his
new status is evidenced by the adoption of a gentilic. This gentilic is formed from
the slave name, which is now preceded by a praenomen and becomes hereditary; the
name of the former owner in the genitive followed by the qualifier lautni (“freedman”),
feminine lautniθa (“freedwoman”), sometimes abbreviated, specifies the status of the
individual. The sons of a freedman thus have the onomastic formula of a citizen with
full rights, even though their gentilic transmits their origin forever, especially when,
starting at the beginning of the second century, the slaves, who in large part came
from the markets in the eastern Mediterranean, often had Graecanic names.
There is also a series of inscriptions of freedmen concentrated in Chiusi and
Perugia in which the gentilic of the former slave reuses that of the former owner,
according to Roman practice. These are obviously slaves who were freed after 90 bce,
when, as a result of the lex Iulia that granted Roman citizenship to all the free inhabit-
ants of Italy south of the Po, the Etruscan cities adopted Roman law.
2.8 Linguistic relationships
In the present state of our knowledge, Etruscan appears to be related only to two
ancient languages: Raetic, spoken in the upper and middle valley of the Adige,23 and
Lemnian, the language of the original inhabitants of the island of Lemnos, in the
23 Rix 1998. See now Marchesini 2015.

northern Aegean. Lemnian is completely unrelated to the languages spoken in the

Aegean and Asia Minor and appears today to be an entirely isolated language; it is
impossible to establish whether it had any connection with the indigenous dialect of
the nearby island of Samothrace, which is still entirely incomprehensible (Lemnian
and native Samothrace writing, in any case, are virtually identical).24 It must not be
forgotten, in any case, that we do not know what languages were spoken in many
regions of the ancient world, and it remains possible that there were other languages
related to this group about which we have no information.
3 Epigraphy
3.1 First period (from the origins to ca. 630)
The first period of Etruscan epigraphy offers a rather uniform appearance. Epi-
graphic culture began in Etruria in the exclusive service of the uppermost classes
of society, and to express a function strictly connected with behavior typical of the
aristocracy—the gift circuit. The exchange of gifts between persons serves to mark
the mutual acknowledgment of belonging to a highly exclusive circle. The objects
exchanged acquire an enormously symbolic significance, which has nothing to do
with the actual market value of the object itself. Its meaning resides entirely in the
social status of the donor of the gift, who implicitly acknowledges the recipient as
his equal. These objects are effectively symbols that could be passed on an infinite
number of times.25 All the Etruscan inscriptions of the first period are on items that
served as gifts and serve to record its first owner (and hence its first donor). The earli-
est syntactic form is that of an ownership inscription, in which the object speaks in
the first person (“I am …’s”). Subsequently, beginning in the middle of the Orien-
talizing period (second quarter of the seventh century), gift inscriptions appear in
which the act of giving is explicitly recorded. These always include the donor, but
the donee appears only sporadically, given that “regifting” was always possible. This
period also yields some more complex epigraphic texts, for which a metric structure is
conjectured (similar to many contemporaneous Greek inscriptions). They are largely
uninterpretable, but they always contain short phrases that name the property and/
or the gift so that their general meaning can be determined.26
In this period, writing probably circulated in a highly limited social sphere; in this
context needs to be placed an attempt (that quickly failed) at graphic reform, with
24 On Lemnian most recently de Simone 2009. On the inscriptions from Samothrace Brixhe 2006.
25 Benelli 2005.
26 Maras and Sciacca 2011.
266 Enrico Benelli
the adoption of hooked 〈c〉 (and obviously, as a result, of three-stroke 〈p〉), following
the forms preferred in the seventh century in the Euboean metropolitan and colonial
areas. The texts that follow this reform (including an abecedary, CIE 11445) are found
in the very heart of Etruria, and they reflect the circulation of objects and ideas among
the aristocratic classes transcending political borders.
3.2 High Archaic period (630–510/490)
With the Late Orientalizing period, the use of epigraphy expanded to many other
areas of civic life, reflecting the major changes that affected Etruscan society. The
proprietary inscriptions and those related to donation continued to play an impor-
tant role, although their circulation seems to have changed. The notices of posses-
sion in many cases no longer imply a destination of the object in the gift circuit (to
be sure this usage continued sporadically until the Recent period), while notices of
donation are increasingly used to express consecration to a god. Every Etruscan city
in this period certainly had an active local scribal school, which developed one or
more types of urban writing; they are distinguished by particular idiosyncrasies in
the shapes of the letters.27
Beginning in the sixth century, the sanctuaries began to take on a central role in
the production and circulation of written materials. It is not by chance that a major
reform of Etruscan writing, which introduced syllabic punctuation, the character 〈ṡ〉,
and at least in some cases the dextrograde ductus, should probably be ascribed to the
suburban sanctuary of Portonaccio at Veii. This reform, although it was destined to
fail, was to have a great impact on the history of southern Etruscan writing.28
Already in the same period, and increasingly through the Archaic period, the
tomb began to take shape as a privileged sphere for epigraphic expression of private
commissions. The first group of funerary inscriptions appears, using many kinds of
surfaces and not yet standardized; a favorite formula was the “talking inscription,”
where the object itself declares that it belongs to a specific individual.29 Only at
Volsinii (Orvieto) did a uniform epigraphic culture develop in the funerary realm, in
27 History of writing in the Archaic period (as a whole, from the seventh century to the fifth): see
especially Cristofani 1972, 1978 (general articles); Colonna 1970 (Caere); Colonna and Gambari 1986
(Tiber and northern areas); Gervasini and Maggiani 1996 (northern area); Benelli 2000 (Chiusi);
Maggiani 2003 (Orvieto); Harari 2008 (Adria); Pellegrino 2008 (Salerno area). Also useful are the
script charts in Bagnasco Gianni 1996.
28 In general on Veiian writing see Maras 2009b.
29 The only group that exhibits a degree of regularity is the northern Etruscan stelas, on which see
Ciacci 2004 and Maggiani 2007a.
response to a strictly local need—the attribution of the chamber tombs built in groups
in the necropolises of the Crocifisso del Tufo and Cannicella.30
3.3 The Late Archaic period (Fifth century)
Between the late sixth and early fifth centuries, many of the epigraphic expressions
of the High Archaic period tend to disappear; private epigraphy was confined almost
exclusively to inscriptions on portable objects. At the same time, the use of inscrip-
tions tended to focus on the sanctuary; elaborate expressive forms would come into
existence specifically for consecrations and dedications to gods. All the inscriptions
made with special care inevitably had a sacred purpose. They are often on metal
(gold, bronze, lead), and sometimes of considerable length and complexity. Among
the most famous, of course, are the “Pyrgi tablets” (three texts—two in Etruscan and
one in Phoenician—that record the dedication of a temple in the sanctuary by the
lord of Caere, Thefarie Velianas) (Fig. 35.2) and the tabula Capuana, a ritual calendar
incised on a slab of terra-cotta (Fig. 35.5). The group (small in number) of funerary
stelas from Felsina is the only display of private monumental epigraphy in this period.
The extraordinary productivity that had characterized the Archaic period in the
field of the elaboration of graphic fashions was almost completely exhausted, and
writing then underwent a thorough standardization. It is in this period that the three
basic graphic types that characterize the Recent period were elaborated: the north-
ern, the Tarquinian-Vulcian, and the southern-Tiberine (typical of Caere, Veii, Volsi-
nii). As has been mentioned above, it was during this period that orthographic prac-
tice gradually changed, and line breaks were introduced.
3.4 The Recent period (fourth–first centuries bce)
Most Etruscan inscriptions belong to the Recent period. The extraordinary increase
in quantity in this period is due to the widespread use of funerary inscriptions.
Just about every city elaborated its own specific funerary culture in which inscrip-
tions have a well-determined place. In most Etruscan cities, the use of inscriptions
remained confined to a fairly restricted segment of society; only at Chiusi and Perugia
(and their territories) did funerary epigraphy generalize to involve every member of
society who was in a position to achieve formal burial (Fig. 17.4).31
30 Van Heems 2009b; the archeological data on the necropolises are completed at least with Forte
1988-89 and Feruglio 2003.
31 On funerary epigraphy see the systematic treatment in Benelli 2007, 40–176. Epigraphy of the
Recent period and society: after the pioneering work of Cristofani 1969–70 (Tarquinia), see, among
268 Enrico Benelli
Fig. 17.4: Recent Age scripts
Alongside funerary inscriptions, sacred inscriptions also took on monumental

forms and complex standardized formulas. The gift in the sanctuary, in fact, along-
side the burial, is one of the privileged loci of ostentation, and inscription was its
efficacious tool.32
the more recent, Maggiani 2009, Benelli 2009a, 2009b, all concentrated on northern Etruscan
documentation.
32 On sacred inscriptions most recently Maras 2009a, keeping in mind that the completeness and
reliability of epigraphic indexing are very uneven, varying between excellent and shoddy.
During the third century, in connection with the transfer to the north of workers
who were specialists in the creation of funerary receptacles (sarcophagi and urns),
northern Etruria gradually adopted forms of writing of a southern type. In the second
century, in the Caere-Volsinii alphabet, there arose a real “national” script that spread
uniformly throughout Etruria. One of the consequences of this phenomenon was
the adoption of the letter 〈c〉 instead of 〈k〉 in the north of the region as well. The
abecedaries, which put 〈c〉 in the position of 〈k〉, indicate that the change was purely
graphic, and concerned the shape, while the traditional alphabetical order remained
unchanged. A scribal school of Cortona already introduced a new letter in the fourth
century, the inverted e (transliterated 〈ê〉), to denote a long open sound. This letter
270 Enrico Benelli
passes unchanged through all the changes in graphic style and was used sporadically
even in the epigraphy of nearby Chiusi. In the middle Aretine Valdichiana, the Caere-
Volsinii alphabet already in the mid third century fostered the introduction of 〈m〉 as
an inverted V, which derives from a cursive form of this type of script; the spread of
this form remained strictly local, reaching as far east as Cortona.33
Beginning in the second century, some new classes of epigraphy that clearly
follow Roman models appear. These include stamps on ceramics and tiles, and the
first public inscriptions, on stone and bronze. Until this time, there had been no
inscriptions of a purely public nature in the Etruscan world, with the sole exception
of those within sanctuaries, which is a fact that distances Etruscan epigraphy from all
the other epigraphic cultures of the Italian peninsula.34 Equally due to interference
from Latin epigraphy is the replacement, in many inscriptions of the northern area, of
〈ś〉 by 〈s〉, which led to a few rare cases of the reverse by hypercorrection.
The use of Latin in private epigraphy appears at different times in the different
Etruscan cities. In the south, it seems to have followed immediately on the receipt of
Roman citizenship and law in 90 bce, while in the north (especially in inland cities
like Chiusi and Perugia) it does not seem to have occurred before the mid first century
bce, and Etruscan survived occasionally into the reign of Augustus.35
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—. 2001b. “Magistrature cittadine, magistrature federali.” In La lega etrusca. Dalla dodecapoli ai
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67–75.
—. 2007b. “Dove e quando fu scritto il Liber linteus Zagrabiensis?” In Studi in ricordo di Fulviomario
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—. 2009. “Gentes etrusche di Fiesole e di Artimino in età ellenistica.” In Etruschi nella valle
dell’Arno, edited by M. C. Bettini, 23–43. Signa: Masso delle Fate.
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—. 2009b. “Interferenze culturali arcaiche etrusco-latine: la scrittura.” AnnMuseoFaina 16: 309–31.
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aristocrazie orientalizzanti etrusche.” In Dalla nascita alla morte. Antropologia e archeologia a
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Beech Stave Press.
II. Issues
Religion
Daniele F. Maras
18 Religion
Abstract: This chapter investigates Etruscan religion by means of the evidence for cult practices,
sacred architecture, and divine names and iconography, as displayed in the archaeological record.
Remarks in Latin literature about the devoutness of the Etruscans, their expertise in religious
matters, and the existence of books whose contents had been revealed to them by the gods are also
considered, within the context of the historical evolution of votive practices, illustrated with concrete
evidence from the proto-historic age to the Roman period.
Major issues are the cult of the ancestors and heroization in private as well as public contexts;
the development of anthropomorphism; transformations of the pantheon through the centuries, with
the insertion of divine figures from Greek and Italic religion; the history of votive offerings and dedica-
tions as evidenced by the epigraphic sources; and cult practices, and their relationship with sacred
architecture and the apparatus of cult.
Finally, there is a discussion of the integration of Etruscan religion into the Roman world, as a
consequence of the insertion of local aristocracies into the Senatorial class. Particular significance is
attached to divination and haruspicy, the latter of which would have been regarded as an Etruscan
specialism through to late antiquity.
Keywords: Etruscan religion, Gods and pantheon, Cult practices, Worship of ancestors, Votive offerings
Introduction
The Etruscans were “a people more devoted to religion than any other, insofar as they
were expert in practicing it” (Livy 5.1.6). Almost every modern account of Etruscan
religion refers to this statement of Livy as a starting point, to highlight how people
in Etruria took special care in dealing with religious matters and were particularly
devout and respectful of the gods’ will.1
Other Latin literary sources seem to confirm such an image of religious Etruscans,
treating this feature of their character as the basis of a particularly Etruscan skill in
divination and prophecy. We will go back to these other sources when speaking of the
debt of Roman religion to Etruria. Here it is important instead to look more carefully
at the cultural context of Livy’s statement, which in the past was often neglected.2
The sentence is used by the historian to explain the decision of the Council of
Etruria at the Fanum Voltumnae to refuse any help to Veii against Rome for as long as
I would like to express my thanks to Michael H. Crawford and Giovanni Colonna for their comments
on and invaluable help with this chapter. Of course, only the author can be held responsible for the
views expressed as well as for any remaining errors.
1 See e.g. Pfiffig 1975, 7; Torelli 1986, 159; Pallottino 1984, 324; Jannot 2000, 81; Torelli 2000, 273;
Jeffrey Tatum 2006, xi; van der Meer 2011, 4; Maggiani 2012, 395; Rafanelli 2013, 581.
2 Rasmussen 2011, 710; Briquel 2012, 53.
278 Daniele F. Maras
the town was under the government of a king (end of the fifth century BCE). Such a
decision came after the withdrawal of artists and performers from the sacred games
at the Fanum as a consequence of the failed election of the king of Veii as sacerdos
Etruriae, which was the highest position within the Etruscan federation. In such a
context, Livy’s statement is intended to make it clear to his readers how closely inter-
twined politics and religion were in Etruria.
Even more interesting, however, is the specific expression used by the historian,
gens … ante omnes alias … dedita religionibus, which is evidently a partial quotation
from Caesar (B Gall. 6.16.1): natio est omnis Gallorum admodum dedita religionibus,
“The whole nation of the Gauls is particularly devoted to religion.”3 The comparison
throws light on Livy’s method. He was starting a sort of soft polemic with Caesar on
the primacy of the Etruscans in religious matters, even compared with the famous
Celtic Druids, with whom they shared the ritual practice of human sacrifice.4
From this point of view, the special devoutness of the Etruscans is even more
emblematic, since it involves a general debate about the characters of peoples.
However, Livy’s statement appears to be linked to a specific historical event, thus
highlighting a connection between religion and politics, not so different from Rome.
When talking about ancient cultures, we must avoid the common fault of apply-
ing modern categories or today’s common sense to the subject. As regards our topic,
it is easy to demonstrate how misleading and artificial it would be to separate reli-
gious matters from other components of everyday life in ancient times, in the Classi-
cal world as elsewhere.
In Greece as well as in Rome, political decisions, military actions, calendar dates
and even events of the agricultural cycle depended upon religious prescriptions and
were often introduced by divinatory or expiatory rituals. As for the Etruscans, Seneca
states that “they attribute everything to god” (or better “to the gods’ will,” Sen. Q nat.
2.32.2). Thus, we can infer that in Etruria religion and everyday life were even more
intertwined than in the Roman world.
It is of course inevitably misleading to treat ritual behavior in isolation from the
many different aspects of the public and private life of ancient peoples in order to
define the specifically religious.5 In Etruria, ritual or ceremonial components can be
detected in legal formulae, in the exercise of power by magistrates, in burial rites, and
even in public games or shows.6
Since it is impossible here to take into consideration every facet of the archaeol-
ogy of ritual and religion in Etruria, in this chapter we will focus on certain aspects
of the subject, specifically relating to cult and votive practices, considering religion
3 See also van der Meer 2011, 4.

4 Bonfante 2011, 13–6, 244–5.
5 Verhoeven 2011, 124–6.
6 van de Meer 2011, spec. 1–5; Verhoeven 2011, 118–21; see also Scheid 2005, 275–84.

18 Religion 279
as a complex system of beliefs and practices governing the relationship between the
human and the divine.7
Some parts of such a system have been dealt with in other chapters of this Hand-
book, such as divination and prophecy (see chapters 20 Rollinger and 21 Haack) or
funerary beliefs and practices (see chapter 19 Naso). Here we will deal more system-
atically with topics related to cult practices, sacred architecture and structures, the
gods within their pantheon, viewing these through the filter of the archaeological
evidence and with the aid of the literary sources.
The Etrusca Disciplina

Let us begin with the so-called Etrusca Disciplina. As a matter of fact, within the
limited number of Etruscan legends handed down to us, a special place is occupied
by the spirit (genius) Tages and the nymph Vegoia, who both revealed the correct
behavior for people in religious matters, especially regarding boundaries and the
foundation of towns.8
In Latin literary sources, there is considerable evidence for the existence of col-
lections of Etruscan books and texts about public and private rites, the interpretation
of the will of the gods and how to avoid their wrath (see the already mentioned chap-
ters). According to Festus (358 L.), the Libri Rituales prescribed what rite (Lat. ritus)
was to be used to found towns, or to consecrate altars and temples, what inviolability
(sanctitas) attached to walls, what law (ius) to gates, and how to create a division
into tribes, curiae, centuriae, how to form and marshal armies, and everything else
relating to war or peace.9 Cicero adds that there were also the Libri Haruspicini and
Fulgurales (Cic. Div. 1.72.7), specifically related to divination, and these three collec-
tions formed the corpus of the Disciplina.
These and other sources could suggest that Etruscan religion was based on revela-
tion handed down in writing,10 not unlike Judaism and Christianity. Nevertheless, the
comparison does not look appropriate, since Etruscan Libri were not so all embracing
as the Hebrew and Christian Bibles, nor were they at the same time a collection of
laws or a collective historical memory. Moreover, in the same passage, Cicero states
that the Romans had Libri Augurales, and we know something about the Libri Sibyl-
lini and other collections of sacred rules or revealed words in the Classical world.11
7 Becker and Gleba 2009, 2–10; on theoretical issues in the study of ritual, see van der Meer 2011, 9–13;
Verhoeven 2011, 115–32.
8 de Grummond 2006b, 27–31; Rasmussen 2011, 711; Maggiani 2012, 407–8.
9 Pallottino 1984, 349; van der Meer 2011, 80–1; Maras 2013, 483.
10 Pallottino 1984, 349; Torelli 1986, 163; de Grummond 2006b, 27; MacIntosh Turfa 2012, 20.
11 Torelli 1986, 163.

Thus, it is better to consider Etruscan sacred literature just as part of an articulated

religious and cult practice, but a more important part than similar writings in Greek
and Roman religion.
Some time ago, Mario Torelli12 argued that the revealed nature of Etruscan ritual
gave the aristocratic elites control over the special knowledge of the Disciplina, which
had been taught by Tages to people coming from all Etruria (Cic. Div. 2.50), that is to
say from the twelve towns of Etruria (Fest. 359.14),13 so becoming an instrument of
power in respect of the lower classes.
Anyway, whatever the precise pattern of cause and effect may have been, the
transmission of abilities and know-how from priest to priest within a few aristocratic
families down to the Roman era actually helped the preservation of an aristocratic,
conservative society in Etruria throughout the centuries.
What has been preserved of the Etrusca Disciplina, in different kinds of sources
(e.g. Classical literature, archaeological finds, and iconographic and epigraphic
documents), often has been considered by scholars as the genuine core of Etruscan
religion.14 In recent works, the origin of the myth of Tages has been related to finds
from the early eighth century BCE15 (see section 3 below). In addition, the science of
haruspicy and the interpretation of bolts of lightning (Lat. fulguriatura) have been
considered authentically Etruscan, as opposed to the Latin-Italic tradition of divina-
tion through birds (auspicium).16
In fact, there is evidence of Eastern elements in Etruscan haruspicy. As Adriano
Maggiani has noted, the famous bronze liver from Piacenza (see below) shows a
pair of signs, which are derived from the Near-Eastern (Chaldean) tradition, whose
roots are Babylonian17 (see chapter 20 Rollinger). It is difficult to determine the early
phases of the development of the myth of Tages, for even in this we perhaps find
traces of Greek influence,18 as, for example, in his name (see Gk. τάσσειν, “to arrange
by order”). As for auspicium, there is actually some evidence of an Etruscan tradition
of such a divinatory practice.19
Clearly it is not easy to discover the original, uninfluenced elements of Etrus-
can religion. One of the aims of current research is to discern and recognize external
influences, highlighting what is Greek, Italic, Near Eastern or, later, Roman within
12 Torelli 1986, 162–3.

13 de Grummond 2006a, 23–27.
14 de Grummond 2006b, 27 (s. also de Grummond, Simon 2006, 1); van der Meer 2011, 80–104, 116;
Maggiani 2012, 407–11.
15 Bonghi Jovino 2009b; van der Meer 2011, 39.
16 van der Meer 2011, 95–6; de Grummond 2013, 543.
17 Maggiani 1982, 73–4; van der Meer 1987, 153–4; de Grummond 2013, 547–48.
18 de Grummond 2006b, 27; van der Meer 2011, 4–5, 39; Maggiani 2012, 407; MacIntosh Turfa 2012,
241–77 and 304–13.
19 de Grummond 2005, 304–15; 2006b, 41–2.

18 Religion 281
archaeological and iconographic evidence, and to attempt to reconstruct the original

Etruscan tradition.
From this point of view, it is evident that the influence of Greek culture in Etruria
is extremely pervasive in all periods, appearing to overwhelm original or local
elements,20 and it is often very easy and tempting to consider Etruria no more than a
province of the Greek world. One should never forget, however, that such a situation
depends mostly on our perception of Etruscan culture through iconographic, archi-
tectural and literary evidence, which is obviously imbued with Greek traditions.
Moreover, when interpreting the remains of ritual contexts in Etruria, it is often
impossible to avoid the use of Latin sources, referring to the age of the kings or generi-
cally to early times. Such a procedure is always possible and often advisable, but one
should always remember that the sources can be biased, and may offer only a very
partial understanding.
In the following pages, we will go rapidly through the main phases of Etruscan
religion, from time to time pointing out the available documents and the archaeo-
logical data, highlighting external elements and contributions, and analyzing some
characteristic phenomena from different periods.
The origins: some remarks on the protohistoric

evidence
Information about religion in the early Iron Age, until the end of the eighth century
BCE, is unfortunately limited and virtually confined to funerary contexts, thus restrict-
ing our perception of beliefs and cult practices in Etruria.21
Such a situation depends not only on our scarce knowledge of village and proto-
urban contexts, but also on the poor visibility of cult places in comparison with funer-
ary and domestic areas. It seems unwise to infer that in early times cult occurred only
within a domestic context22 from the lack of data on specific cult structures, since
finds from the Villanovan and early Orientalizing periods, in some of the main archaic
sanctuaries of Etruria, do provide some evidence of cult practices at that time, and,
in some rare instances, grotto- or water-cults dating from the protohistoric period.23
Some evidence may come from hoards of bronzes too, which were common from
the early Bronze Age onwards in the mid-Tyrrhenian region. Unfortunately, however,
it is not easy to understand the original nature of any one deposit, which either could
20 Torelli 1986, 171–89; de Grummond 2006a, 12–15.

21 Maggiani 1997, 431–4, 439–42; Maggiani 2012, 399–403.
22 Torelli 1986, 164.
23 Maggiani 2012, 400; Edlund Berry 2013, 560.

have been just an accumulation of wealth, or raw material recycled for blacksmiths,
or, conceivably, an actual votive deposit.24
An interesting example of what probably was a votive deposit in a proto-urban
context has been found in Populonia at Falda della Guardiola, where under the lower
layers of a Hellenistic tower attached to the city walls, archaeologists in 1926 discov-
ered a pit containing bronze tools dating from the second half of the eighth century
BCE. The finds included some axes, a sword, and a small Nuragic ship with a bull’s
head.25 In this case, the coincidence of the find-spot with what in later times would
have been a boundary line, has been interpreted as a piece of evidence for the sacred
nature of the deposit.
Another instance of a sacred deposit, undoubtedly charged with symbolic value
in the context of the exercise of power by a centralized ruling system, has been found
at Tarquinia. It was discovered in a sacred and institutional complex at Civita in the
urban area. Here a pit in the ground held the ritual deposition of a bronze lituus-
trumpet, an axe and a shield, dating from the end of the eighth century BCE.26 These
are clearly symbols of royal rank, exercised through the control of military-political
power (axe and shield) and intermediation between people and gods (priesthood,
symbolized by the lituus).
Iconographic data about the gods and religion have also been seen by scholars
in some unusual representations in funerary contexts, such as the small sculptures
occurring, e.g., on the lids of cinerary urns.
A pair of plastic figures on a lid from Pontecagnano, dating from the eighth
century BCE (Fig. 18.1), has been interpreted as a sort of hieros gamos (sacred mar-
riage) between the deceased and the goddess of the underworld, because of the freak-
ish aspect of the figures and the slightly larger scale of the female figure.27 If such an
interpretation is correct, we have a hint of how gods were represented as monsters or
half-animals and of the expectations of salvation after death by the Etruscan elites.
Much more elaborate is the representation on a bronze cinerary urn from Bisen-
zio, dating from the second half of the eighth century BCE: on the cover top, a bear-
like monster is seated, while a group of seven ithyphallic warriors or hunters dances
in a circle around it. On the shoulder of the vase, other groups and scenes encircle
the mouth. We can recognize a line of nine warriors, some of them with shields, a
plowman with an ox, and a man holding a mace. The last two scenes presumably
allude respectively to the foundation rite of a town—which required the tracing of a
boundary by means of a bronze plough28—and to the rank of a king or chief. As for the
24 Bartoloni 1989, 32–3.

25 Lo Schiavo and Milletti 2011 (with further bibliography).
26 Bonghi Jovino 1986, 102–5; de Grummond 2006b, 28–9; Becker and Gleba 2009, 1.
27 Torelli 1986, 165.
28 van der Meer 2011, 83–4.

18 Religion 283
Fig. 18.1: Cover of an ash-urn from Pontecagnano with a pair of molded human
figures with freakish features, probably representing a hierogamy. Eighth century
BCE. Pontecagnano, National Museum (from Gli Etruschi fuori d’Etruria, edited
by G. Camporeale, Verona 2001)
dance of the armed warriors, the monster at its center has been interpreted again as
an animal representation of the god of the underworld.29
Finally, a bronze cult-wagon for burning incense from the necropolis of Bisen-
zio, dating from the same period, shows a complex scene, situated within a wild
landscape, inhabited by animals (Fig. 10.1). Here again we find a plowman, a pair of
hunters, a fight between two warriors, and a family group (father-mother-son). An
armed man by the side of a taller woman bearing two vases completes the sequence.
The representation seems to be a catalog of symbols of rank for a member of the aris-
tocratic elite, alluding to foundation rites (or agriculture), hunting, war and family.
29 Torelli 1997, 36–7; van der Meer 2011, 68–9; see also Krauskopf 2013, 524–26.

In this context the woman of the final couple has been considered as a goddess, thus
interpreting the scene again as either a hieros gamos or an initiation.30
Further occurrences of nude female figures, with emphasized sexual features,
have been recognized in small statues found tombs or as appliqués on vases from
the eighth and seventh centuries BCE.31 Most probably they were representations of a
goddess of fertility, invoked in funerary contexts in order to gain salvation and bless-
ing for the deceased. What is striking is that, almost in all of these cases, the earliest
religiosity of the Etruscans was particularly addressed to female figures.
As we can see, though complex and suggestive, the information coming from
these few finds is sporadic and isolated, and its interpretation is bound to remain
very hypothetical, for it is based on comparison with better-known Greek and Roman
sources and with anthropological observations.
A better opportunity to understand the evolution of the religion of the Etruscans
is offered by the evidence from the Orientalizing period. From this period, however,
the influence of Greek culture becomes more and more pervasive, thus compelling us
to identify it, and hence to differentiate the original from external elements of local
cults and beliefs.
Cult of ancestors and heroization

In a culture, such as the Etruscan, known mainly through necropolises and funerary
contexts, it is tempting to refer to patterns from anthropology that assign a special
role to the cult of the ancestors in primitive societies. As we have seen, however, Etrus-
can culture can only superficially be considered “primitive.” Even if the features of its
pantheon and polytheistic structure are difficult to recognize in the earlier evidence,
we can infer from some data that a complex system was already in existence at least
by the eighth century BCE.32
It remains the case, however, that the cult of ancestors was indeed practiced in
Etruria, especially as a guarantee of the continuation of the family or aristocratic
clan.33
Sculpted figures of men of rank, probably fathers or generic ancestors, appeared
early on cinerary urns, especially on hut-shaped specimens. As well the antecham-
bers and outer parts of aristocratic tombs in the seventh century BCE at times accom-
30 Torelli 1986, 165; and 1997, 38–46.

31 Maggiani 2012, 400–1.
32 Maggiani 2012, 401–2.
33 Torelli 1986, 167–8; Bartoloni 2003, 70–2.

18 Religion 285
modated statues or reliefs representing the figures of forefathers, often with symbols
of high rank34 (see chapter 19 Naso).
Such figures, whose presence in tombs seems understandable, were actually
common in a domestic context also, where, as attested by Vergil for the palace of
Latinus, they welcomed visitors into the atrium.35 They symbolized the everlasting
presence of the deified ancestors, who looked after their progeny during their life,
especially in official or institutional contexts.
At the beginning of the sixth century BCE, the second phase of the “palace” of
Murlo (prov. Siena) is characterized by a complex roof decoration, with terracotta
sculptures on the top, arranged in a cycle including a series of life-size human figures,
sitting or standing, with symbols of rank such as a conical hat and a lituus (Fig. 71.6).36
They were turned towards the inner court of the residential building, as though
looking benignly after the living, and were accompanied by monsters, smaller in size,
perhaps alluding to their seat in the underworld.
Slightly later, from the first half of the sixth century BCE, from Piazza d’Armi at
Veii, is what is probably a group consisting of a statue of a man accompanied by a
crouching dog, standing on the top of the roof of an aristocratic residence.37 This
probable case of attention to the cult of the ancestors at Piazza d’Armi offers some
confirmation for an interpretation of two huts, built above two tombs from the middle
of the ninth century BCE, as heroa of forefathers. The huts were then replaced, during
the seventh century, by a small rectangular sacred building made of wood, and defini-
tively abandoned in the middle of the sixth century.38
These monumental reflections of ancestor cult are isolated, but they imply a more
widespread existence of this kind of cult, presumably carried on in family tombs,
with distinctive features such as the side chamber of the “Tomba delle Cinque Sedie”
(Tomb of the Five Chairs) at Caere, where statues of male and female ancestors sat
before tables, in order to receive offerings by their descendants39. Less eye-catching
elements, such as cippi and altars on top of tumuli and tombs, have been interpreted
by archaeologists as destined to receive funerary offerings.40
These and similar objects were indispensable to the continuation of a cult prac-
tice, granting the souls of the deceased the status of gods (the so-called di animales,
34 Colonna 2005a, 919–25. The concept is not far from that of the imagines maiorum recorded by
Polybius (6.53) and by Tacitus (Ann. 4.9) in the context of Roman funerary rituals.
35 Bartoloni 2003, 71.
36 Edlund Berry 1992; and 2006, 126.
37 Bartoloni 2011, 8–10.
39 Colonna, von Hase 1984, 40; Steingräber 2013, 665–66.
40 See for instance Steingräber 1997, 97–116; and 2009.

as recorded by Cornelius Labeo, quoted by Serv. Aen. 3.168), by means of special

rituals and sacrifices.41
A possible representation of such a ritual is perhaps provided by a painting in the
Tomba delle Iscrizioni at Tarquinia, on the right-hand side of the doorway, where an
image of an old man, naked and with a scepter (perhaps a statue or an eidolon, a sort
of spirit), seems to receive the offering of a fish from a young man bowing towards a
small altar lying between them (Fig. 6.1). The beginning of the inscription painted on
the wall above the figure reads: ci vesana matvesi cale sece, “Cale offered (or sim.)
three vesana (a kind of sacrifice?) to Matve.”42
Besides the cult of the progenitors of the family, to be practiced in domestic or
funerary space, we can see development during the archaic period of public forms of
cult addressed to the forefathers of the community, or even its founders, of human or
divine origin.
A comparison with Greece and Latium shows that cults of heroized or divine
founders were common and closely connected with local tradition, but that the
founders were often also open to identification with figures of classical myth.43
It is well known that in Latin Lavinium a tumulus of the Orientalizing period
became the seat of a hero cult that has been recognized as that of Aeneas, as described
by Dionysius of Halicarnassus (1.64.4–5). A recent study by Giovanni Colonna has
proven that in the late archaic age the worship of the Trojan hero was practiced at Veii
in Etruria, even more intensively than in Latium, presumably asserting a destination
for Aeneas north of Rome and connecting him (and his Trojan lineage) with the foun-
dation of the Etruscan town.44
Fragments of at least two terracotta statues from the first half of the fifth century
BCE have been found in the sacred area of Campetti at Veii, representing Aeneas
fleeing from Troy holding his father Anchises on his shoulder (Fig. 18.2); and in the
second half of the century the same subject was used for votive statuettes from sanc-
tuaries of the town.45
Most probably, there was an Etruscan tradition assigning a Trojan origin to Veii,
rather than to the Latins, perhaps in the context of a religious polemic with Lavinium.
It is certainly not by chance that relationships between the aristocracies of the two
towns have been documented by gift-inscriptions from the late Orientalizing period.46
From Classical literary sources we know of other legends of mythical Greek
founders of Etruscan towns, such as Telemachus for Clusium (Serv. Aen. 10.167) or
41 Jannot 2000, 86–7; de Grummond 2006a, 209; van der Meer 2011, 62–3; Maras 2016b, 89–90.
42 Colonna 2005a, 1750, note.
43 ThesCRA 2, 129–43, 188–94.
44 Colonna 2009.
45 Colonna 2009, 62 and 66–7; Simon 2013, 504.
46 Torelli 2011, 173.

18 Religion 287
Fig. 18.2: Reconstruction of a terracotta statue

representing Aeneas and Anchises from Veii:
in the circle the only fragment found during
the excavation at Veii, Campetti
(drawing: courtesy of S. Barberini, Rome)
generic Achaeans for Perugia (Just. Epit. 20.1.11); and a few much discussed verses
from Hesiod’s Theogony (1013–1016) mention Agrios and Latinos, children of Odys-
seus, who reigned over the Tyrrhenians.47
In this context, an interesting report of Odysseus’ last wanderings has been pre-
served by Theopompus (fr. 354 Jacoby) and Lycophron (Alex. 805 f.), who record that
the hero died in Gortyna (that is to say Cortona) and was buried there on a mountain
called Perge.48
47 Colonna 2005a, 555; Torelli and Moretti Sgubini 2008, 175–6.

48 Colonna 2005a, 193–4; Torelli 1986, 172.

In 1980 Colonna conjectured that the legend had been elaborated on the basis of
the name of a local mountain *Perce (today Pergo), similar to the Homeric Pergama,
where perhaps an archaic tumulus had been considered as Odysseus’ tomb and had
become the location of a cult.49 Recently a signature on a bucchero aryballos from
Veii dating from the end of the seventh century BCE has been read as uthuzteths
vuvze, that is to say “Vuvze the Odysseid,” a descendent from Odysseus. Although it
is unlikely that such a pedigree was intended to be real, it shows that elements of the
legend were already forming in the late Orientalizing period.50
A truly Etruscan foundation myth was the tale of Tarchon, who was the founder
of Tarquinia (carrying his name) and of the twelve towns of Etruria, but also of the
other twelve in the Po Valley. The myth perhaps traveled to Campania as well.51 In
short, Tarchon embodied the very origin of Etruria.52
Unfortunately, there is no clear evidence of possible cults of this hero in any of
the cities of Etruria. Recently, however, Maria Bonghi Jovino has proposed to interpret
a stone cist found at the Ara della Regina at Tarquinia as a cenotaph of Tarchon.53
The cist was shaped like a sarcophagus, and had a different orientation that of the
nearby temple. Further, it was later incorporated into an altar, thus confirming its
sacred status.
Tarchon’s tale is intertwined with the legend of Tages and the origin of the Etrusca
Disciplina (see above).54 According to Johannes Lydus (Ost. 2.6.B), the miraculous
birth of the genius—an infant but with the features of an old man (Cic. Div. 2.50)—took
place when Tarchon was plowing, which is to say tracing the boundary furrow of
Tarquinia (as Romulus did at Rome.)55 The revelation of the Disciplina is thus linked
through Tarchon to the foundation of the twelve towns (dodekapolis) of Etruria. Tar-
quinia, as place of the miraculous event, was presumably the seat of a special cult of
Tages.
Evidence for this comes from a bronze statuette representing an infant rising from
the ground, offered as a votive offering in a sanctuary of the urban area, which is
probably again to be identified with the Ara della Regina (Fig. 18.3).56 The dedicatory
inscription mentions the consecration of a child (…nas son of Vel and of a Thvethli) to
the gods Śuri and Selvans (see section 4.4 below). It is attractive to suppose that the
statue was intended to assimilate the young donor to the mythical genius.57
49 Colonna 2005a, 194, note 36.

50 Maras 2002.
51 Colonna 2005a, 287–91.
52 de Grummond 2006a, 203–4.
53 Bonghi Jovino 2009a, 21–2.
54 van der Meer 2011, 39–40.
55 van der Meer 2011, 84.
56 Maras 2009, 389–90.
57 Maras 2009, 390; van der Meer 2011, 42–4.

18 Religion 289
Fig. 18.3: Bronze statuette representing an infant rising from

the ground, found in a sacred context in Tarquinia. Vatican
Museums (after Cristofani 1985: 238, Fig. 126)
Tages’ connection with the cult of Śuri—an Etruscan, chthonic version of Apollo,
with oracular features58—allows us to understand the scene on an engraved mirror
from Tuscania, dating from the mid fourth century BCE. Here a youth named pava
Tarchies, dressed as a haruspex, reads a liver before Avl(e) Tarchunus, who is surely
Tarchon or his son. The latter is dressed as a priest too and thrusts his stick into the
58 de Grummond 2006a, 133; Simon 2006, 59.

ground, thus participating in the ritual.59 The scene most likely refers to the legend of
Tages teaching the Disciplina for the first time.60
On either side of the scene, two gods attend the event: Veltune, the same as Latin
Vertumnus (or Vortumnus, deus Etruriae princeps, “the principal god of Etruria,”
according to Varro Ling. 5.46.7), and Rath, another Etruscan version of Apollo, of whom
the inscription says: “in the (sanctuary) of Rath.” It would not be too hazardous to infer
that the deities represented are the most important god of the Etruscans, worshipped
in Volsinii;61 and Apollo, the god of the sacred area of Tarquinia, where the myth took
place and where a related cult was perhaps still performed at the time of the mirror.
Finally, the burial of an epileptic child dating from the early eighth century BCE,
within the area of the sacred and institutional complex of Civita in Tarquinia (see
above), has been hypothetically related by Maria Bonghi Jovino to the legend of the
divine child, who spoke the revealed truth of the gods.62
The gods and the pantheon

Diverse kinds of sources, spread through the centuries from the archaic age to the
Roman period, are at our disposal in order to investigate, describe and interpret the
pantheon of the Etruscans.63 Still they are often contradictory. It is thus fundamental
to be explicit concerning the material evidence and the research methodology we are
using in dealing with the Etruscan gods and their functions and features.
In fact, on the one hand, evidence from iconographic sources such as terra-
cotta statuettes and reliefs, vase paintings and, above all, engraved mirrors can only
provide partial information about cults and religious practices, in particular because
of the complexity of intertwining references to Greek myth and its symbolic values,
within the context of the ritual events of daily life (such as marriage, birth, death and
so on).
On the other hand, some iconographic evidence from sacred sites, as for instance
architectural terracottas or anthropomorphic votive offerings, provides an image—so-
to-speak a “face”—for the worshipped gods. At the same time, the nature of the votive
offerings and other symbolic elements may help us to understand the type of cult that
was practiced at different times.
59 Roncalli 2009.
60 Harari 2009, with further bibliography and a different interpretation; de Grummond 2013, 540.
61 Stopponi 2013; see also Briquel 2012, 56, with a different opinion.
62 de Grummond 2006b, 28; Bonghi Jovino 2009b; Rasmussen 2011, 711; Bagnasco Gianni 2013, 595.
63 Bonfante 2006; Simon 2006, 45–57; Rasmussen 2011, 713–5; see also de Grummond 2006a, 53–70
and 234–8 (with a survey of the literature on the subject); Krauskopf 2013.

18 Religion 291
A further and more specific kind of information comes from epigraphic sources.
As a matter of fact, these provide a “name” for gods and goddesses and sometimes
add less tangible data, such as the social position of the worshippers, the reasons for
the offerings, references to time or place, and relationships between gods, etc.
Finally, indirect sources of information come from Latin and Greek literature
dealing with Etruscan issues, providing a useful, though not always contemporary,
external point of view. Moreover, this type of evidence is often unreliable due to mis-
understandings or distortions.
On Etruscan religion, then, we will take into consideration here only direct
sources of information, such as epigraphy, cult images and votive offerings, using
other material only in comparison with the results of analysis based on direct sources.
In fact, if we exclude the gods and deities known only from the iconographic evi-
dence, even if their names are recorded through associated inscriptions, the Etruscan
pantheon shrinks substantially. Nonetheless, when arranged in chronological order,
it is possible rationally to describe the historical evolution of the pantheon across the
centuries.64
Seventh century BCE – Gods mentioned in inscriptions of the late Orientalizing period
are few, and rarely correspond with the better known deities of later periods.65
A small aryballos with geometric painted decoration from a tomb at Marsiliana
d’Albegna, dating from 630 BCE, is the earliest evidence of the cult of an underworld
deity, Vanth, whose representations as a winged woman with bare breasts holding a
torch are known in tomb paintings of the Hellenistic period.66 Another funerary god
or goddess is probably called flar[---]—corresponding to flere, simply “divinity”—in
a later inscription on an altar from the necropolis of Fosso di Arlena near Bolsena.67
Two deities of Aphrodite’s retinue, called Ithavusva and Achavisur, appear in a
long ritual text from the end of the century, inscribed on the foot of a bucchero calyx
from Narce.68
Vena from Veii and Vesi from San Giovenale, who received inscribed votive offer-
ings in sacred contexts, might be goddesses, but there is no further occurrence of
these names.
Furthermore, there is no occurrence of the principal gods’ names, recorded in
inscriptions of the following centuries. There is, however, some indirect evidence that
stems from nomenclature, since the family names Nethuna in Narce and Tinnuna in
64 Maras 2009, 101–36.

65 Maras 2009, 104–5.
66 de Grummond 2006a, 220–5; Simon 2006, 61.
67 Maras 2009, 443–4.
68 Maras 2009, 289–92.

Cumae69 derive from Nethuns (corresponding to Gk. Poseidon and Lat. Neptunus)70
and Tina (or Tinia, Gk. Zeus, Lat. Jupiter) respectively.71
As for the iconographic material, reference to the other world as the seat of the
gods, either in a funerary or in a transcendental sense, is often connected with wild-
ness and liminality. These are represented through savage beasts and monsters,
through which the deceased must pass in their last journey (as in the Campana tomb
at Veii), or which surround the ancestors (as at Murlo). At the same time, the gods are
represented as taming and dominating such monsters in their role of master(s) and
mistress(es) of animals (“Despotes”~Potnia Theron).
The influence of Near Eastern cultures in the representation of gods—Phoenician,
Cypriote and through them Egyptian—is attested by an ivory statuette of a suckling
goddess from the Circolo della Fibula in Marsiliana d’Albegna, dating from the second
quarter of the century,72 and some time later by the divine figures from the Tomba di
Iside at Vulci.73
Sacred buildings of this period are rare. At Rusellae, within the area of the future
forum, a precinct of mud bricks dating from the mid-seventh century encircled a
small building of square plan with an inner circular room, probably imitating an
archaic round hut (like the temple of Vesta at Rome).74 We have to wait for the end
of the century to find other remains of substantial structures in sacred places, as at
Portonaccio in Veii, where the original huts were replaced by platforms and structures
in tufa blocks, presumably connected with a temporary shrine.75
Sixth century BCE – From the end of the Orientalizing period, the ceremonies and for-
mulas of the aristocratic gift-exchange system, which were already in existence in the
pre-literary era, were transferred to votive offerings, providing information about gifts
recorded in inscriptions.76 Such a system can thus be referred to as “votive gift,” and
the term should be used when flagging the parallels with aristocratic gift exchange.
The standard formula in such cases was mini muluvanice X, “X gave me” (with
some variants), and was intended to highlight the name of the giver rather than that
of the receiver.77 That is why until the middle of the century, names of gods in inscrip-
tions continue to be rare. A particular source of information is the votive deposit of
the eastern altar in the sanctuary of Portonaccio at Veii, where a substantial group
69 Maras 2002, 242 note (with further bibliography).

70 de Grummond 2006a, 144–5.
71 de Grummond 2006a, 53–70; Maggiani 2012, 405.
72 Torelli 1986, 184.
73 Maggiani 2012, 403.
74 Colonna 2006, 146.
75 Colonna 2001, 37–9.
76 Maras 2009, 57–8.
77 Maras 2009, 47–50.

18 Religion 293
of inscriptions preserves the name of Menerva, who was worshipped there together
with two other goddesses, Turan and Aritimi. In addition, another dedication from the
same site records the god Rath.78
This short list allows us to recognize three categories of gods that are general
features of the pantheon across the centuries. Turan and Rath are gods with Etrus-
can names, who were soon assimilated to the Greek gods Aphrodite79 and Apollo
respectively (see above). Aritimi—the Greek goddess Artemis—keeps her name almost
unaltered.80 Menerva,81 who had an Italic name, probably Sabine, was soon identified
with the Greek Athena (although her cult is more specifically related to divination).
In the course of the sixth century82 the first category includes Tina (Zeus),
Cavatha (Persephone), Thesan (Eos),83 Śuri and Manth (both names of Apollo as god
of the dead84), Vei (Demeter),85 and the Tluschva (a group of goddesses, perhaps cor-
responding to Nymphs or Charites).86 A Greek name characterizes Charun (in later
periods represented as a monstrous demon of the underworld with a hammer)87 and
the Dioscuri (translated into Etruscan as Tinas cliniiar, “sons of Tina”).88 The name of
Uni (Hera) has an Italic origin.89
These categories of divine names are evidence for a stratified pantheon, formed
on an originally Etruscan base, presumably during the period of development of
proto-urban settlements in the proto-historic period.90 The involvement of people
from beyond the Tiber explains the Italic components of the pantheon (and some
other loanwords in sacred language). The long-lasting contact with Greek culture
from the colonial period until the Hellenistic age caused a steady insertion of Greek
names and figures.
Scholars tend to attribute to Greek influence the development of the anthropo-
morphism of Etruscan gods,91 formerly worshipped as aniconic representation of
78 Colonna 2005a, 1989–2014; Briquel 2009.

79 de Grummond 2006a, 85–96.
80 de Grummond 2006a, 99–103.
81 de Grummond 2006a, 71–8.
82 Maras 2009, 105–11.
84 Simon 2006, 48.
85 Colonna 2005b, 7–8; de Grummond 2006a, 112; Simon 2006, 47–8.
86 Stopponi 2011, 37–42.
87 de Grummond 2006a, 213–20; Simon 2006, 57–8.
89 de Grummond 2006a, 78–84; Simon 2006, 61; Maggiani 2012, 405.
90 Torelli and Moretti Sgubini 2008, 171–2; Maggiani 2012, 402.
91 Pallottino 1984, 329–30; Torelli 1986, 165–7, 174–85; Cristofani 1993; Maggiani 2012, 403.

forces of nature.92 As we have seen, however, the roots of such a process can be traced
back to the protohistoric period.93
The Etruscans were of course debtors to their contact with the Greeks for many
features of their gods and characteristics of their cults, for most iconographic traits of
divine figures, and obviously for introducing Classical mythology.94 In other words,
the pantheon and cults of the Etruscans were developed under a continuous Greek
influence, increasing through to the Roman period, while still preserving some of its
original components and inner structure.
Within the pantheon a special status was attached to some gods, who kept their
Greek name, adapted to the Etruscan language. This is a sign that they were imported
directly from Greek religion, and found no correspondence among local gods.95
This is the case of Artemis, but also of Herakles. The demigod, who in Etruria
acquired fully divine status with the name Hercle,96 is not attested by inscriptions
before the fifth century BCE. Nonetheless his figure makes its appearance in archi-
tectural terracottas, votive statuettes and other representations already in the sixth
century.97
The introduction of the “man who would be god” accompanied a social and
political evolution towards tyrannical forms of power in Etruscan cities, probably in
imitation of Greece and the colonies of Magna Graecia.98 Moreover, such monarchical
figures were responsible for some hierogamic forms of cult, dedicated to specific god-
desses as divine supporters in their bid for power.
A splendid instance of such a cult is the dedication of Temple B in the sanctuary
of Pyrgi, the harbor town of Caere, dating from the last decade of the sixth century,
as recorded by the three famous golden tablets with inscriptions—two Etruscan and
one Phoenician. The temple and its related structures were built by Thefarie Velianas,
king of Caere (according to the Phoenician text), and dedicated to the goddess Uni,
assimilated to Astarte, who helped him to reach the throne.99
Although the temple was actually dedicated to a goddess, its terracotta decora-
tion was devoted to Herakles and his adventures up to his apotheosis, accompanied,
as it seems, by Hera (Fig. 18.4), the Greek deity corresponding to Etruscan Uni, whose
protection was sought by the king.100
92 Colonna 2006, 146.

93 Maggiani 2012, 403.
94 Bonfante and Swaddling 2006; Simon 2006; 2013.
95 Maras 2009, 138–9; Maggiani 2012, 402.
97 Torelli 1997, 104–10.
98 Torelli 1986, 174; Maras 2016b.
99 Colonna 2000, 295–8.
100 Colonna 2000, 290–4; Maras 2016b, 78–86.

18 Religion 295
Fig. 18.4: Reconstruction of the central acroterium of Temple B

at Pyrgi with Hercle/Herakles and Uni/Hera
(after Colonna 2000: 288, Fig. 26)
Fifth century BCE – Sanctuaries became the centers of religious activity, expressing
the ideology of the polis and of its ruling class, as in the contemporary Greek world.101
The focus moved definitively from the aristocratic house or palace to the temple as
the main public building, destined to be monumentalized and decorated with archi-
tectural terracottas. A consequence of this social change and urban development was
a transformation in votive practices, which were no longer the expression of a family
group or of a clan, but of an individual within the civic community.
The change in perspective affected the formulas of votive inscriptions, which
began to highlight the names of the gods rather than that of the person making the
offering. The most common verb in archaic dedications, muluvanice, was abandoned
and replaced by the verb turuce, in the formula itan turuce X Ys, “X gave this to Y”
101 Colonna 2005a, 1954–60; see also de Grummond, Edlund Berry 2011, 8–13.

(with variants). A simple formula of consecration, recording only the name of the
god—hence an anonymous dedication—is even more frequent.102
This formula began to be used in sanctuaries frequented by foreigners in harbor
towns, such as Pyrgi and Gravisca, where such inscriptions are attested already in the
sixth century in Greek, as well as in Etruscan. In such places a steady contact between
Greek visitors and Etruscan priests (and to a certain extent with Etruscan visitors too)
caused a slow evolution of cult practices and the introduction of new models and
customs from Greece.103
Instances of this increasing Hellenization are noticeable with the inception of a
cult of Herakles, worshipped with the name Hercle at Pyrgi and Caere (the sanctuary
at Sant’Antonio),104 but also, and even more significantly, with the introduction of
initiatory cults of Dionysos (Etr. Fufluns)105 and the Eleusinian couple, Demeter and
Kore (Vei and Cavatha respectively).106
As for Dionysos, important evidence is provided by a group of four graffiti on
Attic vases found at Vulci, recording a consecration to Fufluns Pachies velclthi, that
is to say “to the Bacchic Fufluns at Vulci” (Fig. 18.5). Such vases, found in both urban
and funerary contexts, have been interpreted as tokens or talismans for initiates to a
mystery cult.107
In addition, Eleusinian rituals have been recognized in the sanctuary of the so-
called South Area of Pyrgi, where Cavatha, corresponding to Persephone, was wor-
shipped together with Śuri, as we have seen, a chthonic Apollo.108
As regards the pantheon as a whole, we have now enough material to identify the
functions and features of several deities.109
Well-known gods with Etruscan names are Cavatha and Śuri, just mentioned,
worshipped together at Pyrgi and Volsinii (Orvieto), and the former alone at Popu-
lonia and Perugia. The latter is attested with other names, again at Pyrgi (apa, “the
Father” and papa, “the Grandfather”), at San Polo d’Enza in the Po Valley (Rath) and
at Narce in the Faliscan region (Apalu, here for the first time with the Etruscan form
of his Greek name).
We find Turan (Aphrodite) and Vei (Demeter) again at Gravisca, the latter wor-
shipped also at Caere, Pyrgi, and San Polo d’Enza, in the Po valley; the Tluschva-
deities in the sanctuary at Sant’Antonio in Caere;110 and Tina (Zeus) at Marzabotto,
102 Maras 2009, 29–30, 53–4.

103 Riva and Stoddart 1996; Maras 2009, 50–1.
104 Maras 2009, 468–9.
105 Colonna 2005a, 2015–31; de Grummond 2006a, 113–22; Simon 2006, 49.
106 Colonna 2005a, 2122, 2324.
107 Maras 2009, 35–6 (with further bibliography).
108 Colonna 2004, 70–3.
109 Maras 2009, 111–8.
110 Maggiani 2011.

18 Religion 297
Fig. 18.5: Inscription Fuflunsul Pachies Velclthi, “To the Bacchic Fufluns at Vulci”, scratched under
the foot of an Attic kylix, from Vulci, Doganella. Last quarter of the fifth century BCE. Florence,
Archaeological Museum (photo by D. Maras)
where he was god of the Great Temple in the northern part of the town, and at Volsinii,
where he had local name Velthuna (the same as Latin Voltumna-Vertumnus). New
entries in the pantheon are Lur(ś), a god with a heroic aspect, perhaps connected with
divination;111 Laran, a military god assimilated to Ares;112 Calus, a personification of
the underworld;113 and Thanr, patroness of children and birth, but with a funerary
aspect too.114
As for gods with Greek names, we have already mentioned Hercle (Herakles) and
Apalu (Apollo).
Finally, gods with Italic names had important and widespread cults, and were
often assimilated to major figures of the Classical pantheon, such as Fufluns (Dio-
nysos), at Vulci; Uni (Hera), at Pyrgi; and Klanins (god of the river Clanis, today
Chiana), at Quarata near Arezzo.
111 de Grummond 2011, 75–7; van der Meer 2009, 217–28.

113 Simon 2006, 51, 57.
114 Maras 1998; de Grummond 2006a, 154–5.

A separate mention is appropriate for Selvans, the god of boundaries and the
wild, with no corresponding Greek deity.115 It appears that his cult was more impor-
tant than the Roman Silvanus, in recognition of the importance of boundaries in
Etruscan culture.116
Two of the longest Etruscan ritual texts date from the mid-fifth century BCE: the
Capua Tile (or tabula), an inscribed terracotta tablet recording a religious calendar,117
and the lead disk of Magliano, inscribed on both faces with a complex sacred text.118
In both cases gods are mentioned, but beside some well-attested divine figures, local
deities also appear (especially on the Tile), known only by a single occurrence. This
shows that a local pantheon could be very different from the general pattern.119
Fourth century BCE – The formulas of votive inscriptions were enriched by additional
information about the place of the offering (as we have already seen for the Fufluns
inscriptions in the previous century), as well as about the reasons for the gift, and
even by the invocation of a secondary deity, whose sanctuary hosted the offerings.120
Votive offerings, until the fifth century mainly consisting of pottery (often Attic vases),
became more differentiated, including a large number of bronze statuettes represent-
ing mostly the donor, but sometimes also a deity.121
The earliest examples of sortes, oracular tokens, consecrated to a single god and
drawn by lot in the course of a cleromantic rite, also date to this period. The gods’
names attested are Śuri, Artumes, and the obscure Lurmita.122
As regards the pantheon, the increasing number of votive inscriptions provides
a statistically significant sample, enabling us to identify the most frequently wor-
shipped gods, and revealing some unexpected peculiarities.123 Heading the list, we
find a group of different versions of Apollo, appearing as Śuri at Tarquinia, Vulci,
Viterbo and Perugia, as Rath in Clusium, and as Aplu in some occurrences of uncer-
tain provenance. In addition, an inscription from Pyrgi at the end of the century is a
mark of increasing contact with Rome, since the god was named Veivis, a loanword
from his Latin counterpart Veiovis.
A conspicuous group of dedications concern Selvans, who was widely worshipped
from south to north, at Tarquinia (with Śuri), Bolsena, Clusium, and perhaps Cortona.
Vei is still attested at Gravisca, but also at Norchia (as a funerary goddess within a
115 de Grummond 2006a, 149.

116 Edlund Berry 2006, 116–31.
117 Bonfante 2006, 11; van der Meer 2011, 78 (with further bibliography).
118 Bonfante 2006, 11–2; van der Meer 2011, 64–8; Massarelli 2014, 19–113.
119 Maras 2009, 102.
120 Maras 2009, 93–9.
121 Maras 2009, 192.
122 Maras 2009, 37–40.
123 Maras 2009, 118–26.

18 Religion 299
Fig. 18.6: Marble statue representing a nude goddess,

so-called “Venere della Cannicella”, from Orvieto,
necropolis of Cannicella. End of the sixth century BCE
(after Andrén 1967, pl. 3a)
funerary context), Rusellae and in the sanctuary of Cannicella at Volsinii, where the
famous archaic statue of a nude goddess (“Venere della Cannicella”) was probably
her cult image, an image quite different from that expected of a goddess assimilated
to Demeter (Fig. 18.6).124

Important city cults were those of Uni, who at Gravisca and Cortona received
offerings marked with the name of the town, tallying with the information from liter-
ary sources that record Juno or Hera as the patron of cities like Veii and Perugia. By
contrast, Tina is mentioned in just a few sporadic inscriptions from the urban area of
Adria in the Po valley125 and from a cult place in the countryside near Siena.126
In the neighborhood of Lake Trasimene, a sanctuary of Cel, a goddess of the earth
like the Greek Ge, developed.127 Here, a group of five statuettes has been found, which
were part of a set inscribed with the name of the goddess before selling them to visi-
tors as sacred offerings. In addition, somewhere in the hinterland of Volsinii, a sacred
place was created for Vatlmi, an obscure deity who is attested by three inscriptions
and is only invoked in the dedications as a host to other deities.128
Other gods recorded by votive inscriptions include Turan (at Gravisca and
Clusium), Artumes (variant of Aritimi-Artemis), Thanr (at Clusium), Lurmita (at Vulci),
Menerva (at Tarquinia), Lurś (at Corchiano), Calus and Mantrns, both gods of the
dead (at Cortona), Mariś, a divine child bearing the name of the Latin-Italic Mars
(at Clusium),129 the goddess Pethan (at Volsinii, Via di San Leonardo). Finally, there
are occurrences of uncertain provenance of Hercle and Catha (a later counterpart of
Cavatha, with marked solar features).130
Further information comes from the comparison of such votive evidence with the
iconographic material, now available in tomb paintings and mirrors. The frequent
presence of captions allows us to see some differences between the gods for whom
there is evidence of cult and those for whom there is iconographic evidence.131
Figures such as Sethlans (Hephaistos) or Usil (Helios),132 often included within
the pantheon by the scholars, are never mentioned in votive inscriptions, while other
important gods, such as Cavatha/Catha or Selvans are never pictorially represented.
Such a difference is particularly interesting with regard to the gods of the underworld,
whose names are known from epigraphic sources as Calus, Manth (or Mantrns) and
Śuri (the male figure), and Cavatha, Mlach Thanra and perhaps Pethan (the female
figure). In tomb paintings, however, these deities keep their Greek names Aita and
Phersipnai (respectively from Hades and Persephone) along with their Greek iconog-
raphy.133
125 Maras 2009, 217.

126 Maras 2009, 230–2.
127 Colonna 2005a, 1929–34; de Grummond 2006a, 105–6.
128 Colonna 2005a, 2057–61.
130 de Grummond 2006a, 103–5; Maras 2007, 102–10.
131 Simon 2006.
132 de Grummond 2006a, 132–8.
133 de Grummond 2006a, 229.

18 Religion 301
Fig. 18.7: Bronze statuette with dedication to aiseras Thuflthicla of uncertain

provenance, probably from Volsinii. Second half of the 4th century BCE.
Vatican Museums (drawing by D. Maras)
Such a situation seems to suggest that the iconographic resources used by artists
in dealing with divine figures diverged substantially from the pantheon apparent in
votive religion. In this regard it is certainly significant that the solar features of Usil
and Catha partially overlap, the former attested only in images, the latter only in
votive contexts.134
Finally, Thufltha was a most important goddess, whose worship is attested from
the fourth century (Fig. 18.7).135 Her identity as Tyche/Fortuna has recently been
proposed, on the grounds of certain features of her cult.136 Attested all over Etruria,
this goddess received offerings from people of all social classes (at Volsinii, from the
134 Maras 2007, 108–10.

135 de Grummond 2005, 302–15; and 2006a, 151.
136 Maras 2016a.

fourth century, and at Tarquinia, Vulci, Montecchio, Mucigliano, Clusium and Mon-
talcino in the following centuries). She was related to fate and divination.
A further peculiarity of Thufltha is the fact that a group of gods depended on her,
the so-called aiser Thuflthas (or Thuflthica). This expression has been hypothetically
linked with what some Latin literary sources call di complices et consentes or supe-
riores et involuti (Sen. Q nat. 2.41; Arn. 3.40).137 They were Jupiter’s advisers on the
throwing of the most terrible category of thunderbolt and were thus connected with
divinatory science and the fate of human beings (see chapter 20 Rollinger).
Third century BCE – In this period, we see an increasing number of inscribed bronze
statuettes, especially in northern Etruria, and terracotta votive offerings, in compari-
son with vases, which were no longer the favorite support for votive inscriptions.
The list of worshipped gods is not very different from what we met in the fourth
century:138 Tina and Apollo (as Śuri, Aplu and Rath), continue to be widely wor-
shipped, as well as Selvans and Thufltha.
Local cults are known for Hercle, Tluschva and Nethuns at Caere, Menerva at
Castrum Novum (Punta della Vipera, near Caere), Vei and Uni at Vulci (sanctuary
of Fontanile di Legnisina), Thanr, Pethan and Laran at Perugia, Lurś at Bolsena and
Cetamura del Chianti.
A new entry in the votive pantheon is Culsans, a two-faced god corresponding to
the Latin Janus, with no Greek equivalent,139 whose name is related to the Etruscan
word culs, “door,” and who probably oversaw city walls and boundaries. Supporting
this notion is the fact that a pair of statuettes, representing this god and Selvans, was
found in a pit near a city gate at Cortona (Fig. 18.8).
Other gods’ names now appearing in dedications include Turms (Hermes),140 the
patron of trade, who receives the offering of a weight together with Rath; Tiu, deity of
the moon141; and the obscure Tlenasie. Moreover, in the South Area of Pyrgi, where a
process of Romanization was already at work from the end of the fourth century, there
is no further occurrence of the original, Etruscan gods, such as Śuri and Cavatha. As a
replacement for the latter, a group of Etruscan and Latin graffiti records a deity whose
name begins with M (or, on one occasion, MA), identified by Colonna with the Roman
goddess of the underworld Mania.142
In this period, a specific terminology to define different aspects of the sacred
(cver, alpan, tinscvil, nuna) and types of deities (ais, flere, farthan) was developed
137 Maras 1998, 194–5.

138 Maras 2009, 126–34.
141 de Grummond 2006a, 133; Maras 2007, 110–11.
142 Colonna 1998, 419.

18 Religion 303
Fig. 18.8: Bronze statuette representing

Culsans from Cortona, Porta Ghibellina.
Cortona, Museum of the Accademia Etrusca
(after Cristofani 1985: 209, Fig. 104)
and used in dedications.143 Moreover, names of gods are now often accompanied by
epithets or adjectives, which allow us to investigate the relationship between the gods
and certain features of their cult.
The documentation of “families” of gods, more evident in this period, but occa-
sionally attested from the archaic period onwards, is especially interesting. Thus, a
group of different gods is qualified as “belonging to Calus” (Etr. calusna—that is, to
the underworld): they are Tina, Pethan, Turms and probably Selvans and Menerva.
Such a series can be compared with the aiser Thuflthas, mentioned before, that now
143 Maras 2009, 69–74, 80–92.

Fig. 18.9: Bronze statuette of a child holding a bird from Tuoro, near
Lake Trasimene. Vatican Museums (after Cristofani 1985: 241, Fig. 127)
also include Śuri, as attested in a dedication from Vulci. Furthermore a circle of Thanr
was attested already in the fifth century, with reference to Turan and Mlach.144
Clearly these “families” are not groups of minor deities moving around and
helping the major, Olympic gods as attested in the Greek and Latin tradition, and
also in Etruria, for instance in relation to Turan (Aphrodite) and her divine helpers
and servants. A specific feature of Etruscan theology is the belief that every god(dess)
can participate in the sphere of his (her) colleagues, and this results in a greater
importance attached to the corresponding aspects of his or her own personality. For
example a funerary aspect of Tina (Zeus) belongs naturally to Calus, and when issues
of fate arise Śuri (Apollo) takes part in the circle of Thufltha.
Such a religious system is quite different from what we know in the Classical
world, and is most likely a product of speculation by Etruscan priests on the basis of
ancient tradition. This subject, therefore, deserves particular attention in research on
Etruscan religion.
144 Maras 1998; Krauskopf 2013, 520–21.

18 Religion 305
Fig. 18.10: Inscription on the statuette of fig. 18.9, incised along the right leg
(drawing by D. Maras)
A further group of well-defined divine figures, associated with a specific function,

includes deities who accompany the dead into the underworld and watch over the
“great gate” to prevent anyone from escaping.145 We know much about such figures
from tomb paintings and reliefs on sarcophagi, where Charun and Vanth are often
represented leading the dead in the journey to the underworld (the former at times
multiplied, as though there was a group of Charun-s). Sometimes a she-demon named
Culsu joins them as warden of the gate. In addition, in the Tomba dell’Orco at Tar-
quinia a monstrous, Fury-like Tuchulcha is tormenting the damned.146
These deities had no place of commemoration in Etruria other than tombs, but
sometimes received dedications in a funerary context, as we saw for Charun already
in the sixth century and now for Vanth in Spina and Adria, as well as, for the group
together, again at Adria, called kulśnuter, literally “the watch of the door.”147
Second–first centuries BCE – The last centuries of Etruscan religion are marked by
the increasing Romanization of society and language, as well as of institutions and
forms of cult. Therefore, it is not by chance that all the epigraphic material for this
period comes from northern Etruria, since it is here that cities remained free and
autonomous in their culture for longer.148
Bronze statuettes were offered to Thufltha at Cortona and Montalcino and a
bronze bird to Cel at Volterra. The local god Tec Sanś, worshipped at Tuoro near the
northern bank of Lake Trasimene (the location of Hannibal’s victory), received mag-
nificent votive offerings such as the famous statue of the Arringatore and a statuette
of a child holding a bird (Figs. 18.9–18.10).149
145 de Grummond 2006a, 213–25; Krauskopf 2006, 76–8.

146 Jannot 2000, 86–7 and 90–5.
147 Colonna 2005a, 2020–1; Maras 2009, 217–8.
148 Maras 2009, 134–6.
149 Colonna 2005a, 1935–8.

Apollo, both as Aplu and as Śuri, is attested on two different lots (sortes) from
Arezzo, where his oracle was still famous in Roman time. Finally Tina is mentioned
on a group of cippi, marking the boundaries of an Etrusco-Roman colony at Smindja
in Tunisia.
Such cases fit the general pattern of Roman Italy, where a reference to the pre-
Roman past was often a sign of conservatism or an attempt to place the actual sit-
uation in a favorable light by appealing to ancient tradition, especially relating to
religion. This is certainly the case of the cippi from Smindja (Tunisia; see chapter 88
Naso),150 and of two stone blocks from the base of a building from Feltre, in Rhae-
tian territory. Here an inscription in the local alphabet records the consecration of the
temple to Tina and perhaps Tiu, thus presumably referring to the Etruscans as ances-
tors of the Rhaeti, according to a version also found in Livy (5.33.11).151
Very recently a long inscription, dating from the first half of the second century
BCE (or shortly before) has been found on the acropolis of Populonia. It records an
important dedication to a deity whose name ends with ]urnz. On the grounds of chro-
nology, the dedication is connected probably with the founding of the sanctuary, thus
again linking the use of the Etruscan language with a claim to an ancient, pre-Roman
tradition.
From the same period dates the Linen Book of Zagreb (liber linteus),152 celebrated
as the only preserved linen book from the whole of antiquity. Written in inland north-
ern Etruria, it was preserved for us by its use as a mummy wrapping in Egypt, where
it had been presumably brought by somebody (a soldier or a priest?), accompanying
the Roman army under Caesar, Mark Antony or Octavian.
The book contains a religious calendar and some prescriptions for the public
rituals of a community left unspecified on purpose, in order to allow the use of the
book for any city (spura enaś).153 As a matter of fact, some of the divine names occur-
ring in the book are partly already known, such as Tina, Uni and Nethuns; but there
are some anonymous figures too (aiser śic śeuc and flere in crapśti), probably to be
determined at the time of use.
For these reasons, scholars have proposed to classify the Linen Book among the
Libri Rituales mentioned by the ancient authors (see above). Its journey to Egypt in
a Roman historical context seems to suggest that Etruscan religion survived at that
point only in the traditions of families and thanks to the integration of the Etruscan
aristocracies into Roman society (see below).
150 Maras 2009, 218–9.

151 Maras 2009, 367–8.
152 Bonfante 2006, 10; van der Meer 2007; 2011, 79–80; Belfiore 2010.
153 Benelli 1998, 223–4.

18 Religion 307
Beside these attempts to preserve the independence of Etruscan religion, the

esteem enjoyed by the Etruscan science of haruspicy survived the disappearance of
their language and even of other aspects of Etruscan culture.
One of the last great testimonies of Etruscan religious thought belongs in such a
context: the famous bronze liver of Piacenza, dating from the beginning of the first
century BCE.154 This is a life-sized model of a sheep’s liver, with the lower face divided
into thirty-eight sections with divine names inscribed in them. Each section corre-
sponds to a deity, whose will could be read in the liver of a sacrificed victim. An outer
band encircled the liver showing the correspondence between the organ (microcosm)
and the sixteen regions of the sky (macrocosm), inhabited by as many gods.
Most probably the liver was used as a device in teaching haruspicy (or perhaps to
remind a seer of the position of each section), by a priest in the Roman army or in any
case within the context of Roman Italy.
The gods mentioned on the liver partially correspond to those mentioned in
votive dedications, but some important figures (such as Menerva or Vei) are missing,
and others are attested only here (such as Mae and Tvnth).155 The various names of
Apollo are also missing, but the god is probably replaced by Vetis, derived from the
Latin Vedius (a variant of Veiovis, see above).156
Cult practices and sacred architecture

Apart from iconographic and epigraphic sources, archaeology provides substantial
information about votive religion, through the remains of ritual contexts and of sacred
structures.157 It is therefore worthwhile to delve deeper into cults and their locations.
The principal ritual behavior, recognizable through archaeological finds, is the
offering. Depending on time, place or motive, different kinds of offerings were pos-
sible, from libations to sacrifices, and from ritually shared consumption of food to
a burnt offering (holocaust).158 The specific place for such rites was clearly an altar,
which therefore was the central unit of any sacred place in ancient times, in Etruria
as elsewhere.159
154 van der Meer 1987; Colonna 2005a, 2071–84; Bonfante 2006, 10–1; Stevens 2009; Krauskopf 2013,
515; Maras 2013, 484–85;
155 Colonna 2005a, 2074.
156 Maras 2009, 136.
157 Insoll 2011a, 2–3; see also van der Meer 2010; Edlund Berry 2013.
158 Grottanelli 1989-1990, 45–54; MacIntosh Turfa 2006a; Insoll 2011b, 151–65; Rafanelli 2013, 571–76;
see also Scheid 2005, 15–20.
159 Colonna 2006, 132; Prayon 2012.

There were various types of altars, according to their specific function, from rude,
primitive accumulations of stones or even of clods of earth to stone tables and even
precious metal trapezai, none of which survive but which are recorded in the literary
sources.160 A typically Etruscan kind of altar was pierced, used to pour liquid offer-
ings deep into the ground, in the worship either of chthonic deities, or of the dead
(Fig. 18.11).161
Offerings included animals and plants, but also drinks (primarily wine) and other
foods. In such cases we find bones or remains of instruments used for rituals, espe-
cially vases.162 But there were some durable elements as well, equivalent to a sacri-
fice, consisting mainly of terracotta or metal figured objects or statuettes (produced
for a votive purpose), and in some cases objects of daily life (transformed into votive
objects).163 Votive deposits were filled with the remains of offerings and votive objects,
which provide us with information on the deities worshipped.164
Aspects of the environment were considered as natural points of contact between
the human and the divine spheres. Through the fire of the holocaust, sacrifices
ascended directly to the sky; but for blood and other liquid and solid offerings, it was
appropriate to pour them into the ground or bury them, as in the case of bothroi and
pits.165 Similarly, pools and rivers received solid offerings for their deities.166
As we have seen, an important feature of Etruscan culture was the special atten-
tion paid to boundaries and divisions of space, permitting correspondences between
the microcosm and macrocosm, as well as between the human and the divine.167 As
a consequence, a most important aspect of a sacred place was its delimitation, often
made visible by means of an enclosure (Gr. temenos), surrounding the sacred pre-
cinct, which marked its boundaries and was under the protection of a deity.168 There
are several examples of cippi, inscribed with the dedication to single gods, such as
Selvans, Śuri, Laran and Menerva.169
An altar surrounded by a small precinct was a specific cult unit in the Etruscan
tradition. Although it evolved later into an altar on a podium, in some cases the tradi-
tional unit continued to be used until a very late period.170
160 Colonna 2006, 132–43.

161 Colonna 2006, 133.
162 ThesCRA 5, 149–417, spec. 155–6, 295–8, 313–6.
163 Morel 1992, 229–32; MacIntosh Turfa 2006a; Becker and Gleba 2009, 4–6.
164 Colonna 2005a, 1946; MacIntosh Turfa 2006a, 95–106.
165 MacIntosh Turfa 2006a, 102–3.
166 Maggiani 1999, 187–94.
167 Edlund Berry 2006, 116–9; Maras 2013, 480–86.
168 Colonna 2006, 143–6.
169 Maras 2009, 36–7.
170 Colonna 2006, 143; see also Rafanelli 2013, 566–70.

18 Religion 309
Fig. 18.11: Pierced altar from Bolsena, Poggetto,

with consecration to Tina (drawing by D. Maras)
Structures such as altars and precincts were liable to be monumentalized. This

occurred, for instance, at the funerary altar at Grotta Porcina, near Blera, in which
a round base was sculpted with a procession of quadrupeds, and surrounded by a
theatre-shaped structure.171 Similarly, in its earliest layout, the grand precinct with
a four-pillared entrance of Temple B at Pyrgi (Fig. 18.12)172 formed the support for
the so-called building of twenty cellae, completed by altars in front of it, where it is
thought that sacred prostitution was practiced.173
From the point of view of ritual, the house of a god or a goddess may be thought of
as secondary in the organization of a sacred place. Still, already as early as the period
for which documentation begins to become available, it had been developed; and in
the course of the archaic period it became the focus of the sanctuary, receiving very
impressive forms of monumentalization.174
The earliest sacred buildings were at first huts and then shrines (oikoi), not very
different from other kinds of structures. It is, however, possible to observe a tendency
to use old-fashioned types of houses for sacred purposes,175 such as oval and round
huts after square huts had become customary; oikoi, when three-roomed houses had
become common; and Tuscanic temples with a triple cella, after the evolution of
housing complexes had long evolved away from this type of structure.176
171 Colonna 2006, 138; Prayon 2012, 202.

172 Colonna 2007, 9–10.
173 Colonna 2000, 279–82; 2005, 2358–9.
174 Colonna 2005a, 1040–7, 1949–54; Rasmussen 2011, 715; Edlund Berry 2013, 561–63.
175 Colonna 2005a, 1950–4.
176 Colonna 2006, 154.

Fig. 18.12: Pyrgi. Plan of the earliest layout of Temple B with its precinct and the building
of “Venti Celle” (after Colonna 2007: 19, Fig. 2)

18 Religion 311
Clearly the evolution of sacred buildings in Etruria was not linear. During the
sixth and fifth centuries BCE, to the oikos were added at first a pronaos (ante-chamber)
and a podium, which raised it above ground level, then alae on both sides, columns at
the front, and a rear part (pars postica), so achieving the form of Tuscanic temple.177
Nevertheless, there were also cases of peripteral temples of Greek tradition (such
as Temple B at Pyrgi or the Great Temple of Vulci) and mixed types or variants. In addi-
tion, other types of shrines, usually of rectangular shape, were built and used until
the late period, contemporary with examples of monumental sacred architecture.178
This is especially evident in the case of some peculiar cults, such as the Eleusinian,
mystery cult of Cavatha (Persephone) in the South Area of Pyrgi (see above) or the
worship of the Greek goddesses at Gravisca, where a special provision for the cult of
Adonis, of Near-Eastern origin, was included.179
The bequest of Etruscan religion

During the final centuries of their independent history, the Etruscans were more and
more integrated into the Roman world, as the aristocratic families of Etruria joined
the Senatorial class and their traditions became part of the mos maiorum.
Clearly such a process was long and largely unconscious. Its starting point is
linked with the foundation of Rome itself, performed Etrusco ritu according to the
sources (Plut. Rom. 11; Varro Ling. 5.143).180 However, in the late period we can follow
the stages of this process of integration.
From the archaic period, a statue of Vertumnus, the main god of Etruria, had
stood in the vicus Tuscus, the Etruscan quarter at the foot of Capitoline Hill. Moreover,
in the collective memory of the Romans, the Capitoline Temple itself, the principal
sacred building of Rome, was closely connected with the monarchy of the Tarquins.181
The Etruscans were considered responsible for anthropomorphizing the gods
(Plin. HN 35.157)182 and, above all, for possessing a monopoly of knowledge about
divination and haruspicy, as well as other sacred matters.183
Such faith in the capabilities of Etruscan priests soon led to a series of consulta-
tions of soothsayers from Etruria, and to their integration in religious, military and
institutional roles in Roman society (see chapter 21 Haack). Texts of haruspicy and
177 Colonna 2006, 154–5.

178 Colonna 2006, 146–52.
179 Torelli and Moretti Sgubini 2008, 155–61 (L. Fiorini); Bagnasco Gianni 2013, 608.
180 van der Meer 2011, 82–5; Maras 2016b, 101–5.
181 Colonna 2005a, 891–4.
182 ThesCRA 4, 330; Colonna 205, 891; 2006, 146, 154.
183 de Grummond 2013, 542–46.

divination were translated into Latin, in some cases by scholars of Etruscan origin,
such as Iulius Aquila, Nigidius Figulus, Aulus Caecina and Tarquitius Priscus.184
Therefore, when Livy wrote on the special devotion of the Etruscans (see above),
religious matters were all that survived of the ancient Etruscan culture, preserved in
family traditions and priestly doctrine. Still, Livy was speaking of ancient times, when
the Etruscans were independent and preserved their customs. Now, what can we say
about other Latin authors dealing with Etruscan religion?
As for Seneca (Q nat. 2.32.2), he refers his account of the lightning bolts and their
interpretation as divine signs to the present time, when talking of the difference
between “us” (Hellenized philosophers) and the Etruscans, that is to say priests and
soothsayers, who based their doctrine on ancient Etruscan tradition.
Much later, when Arnobius thundered at Etruria as the “mother of superstition”
(adv. gent. 7.26), he was fighting against pagan religion, which, in his time, still used
the Etruscan tradition as a guarantee of truth, and fidelity to the mos maiorum.
Still in the fifth century CE, at the end of antiquity, it was possible for Martianus
Capella to find original information on Etruscan lists of gods and partitions of sky
(1.45–61), and even later Johannes Lydus could translate Nigidius Figulus’ bronto-
scopic calendar.185 Such religious material (by then only nominally Etruscan) had
been handed down by priests within the Roman tradition.186
Nevertheless, the close connection with late paganism, and the consequent
enmity of the early Christian Church, was fatal to such a tradition and, probably, to
much of the remaining literature dealing with Etruscan matters.187
Christian monks handed over neither the works of learned Latin haruspices, nor
copies of Verrius Flaccus’ Tusci libri and the Emperor Claudius’ Tyrrheniká.
Etruscan religion was doomed to sink into oblivion.
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Alessandro Naso
19 Death and burial
Abstract: Cemeteries are our greatest source of knowledge of the Etruscans, because the Etruscan
elite furnished their tombs very richly, a “barbarian” custom that they adopted throughout their civi-
lization, from the second half of the eighth century BCE onward. The three major arts—sculpture,
architecture, and painting—were developed mostly for use in burials. Although (or because) this con-
stitutes a huge amount of information, a detailed study of death and burial in Etruria is still lacking;
the various reviews of aspects of the whole subject, usually involving a single site or a particular
period in history, show that the development of a funerary ideology is closely connected to contem-
porary religion and society. Funerary ideology is a traditional and conservative matter. Up-to-date
analyses of single sites specifically concern the Iron Age and the Orientalizing period, while the more
complex Archaic and Late Archaic periods are less well known. From the Classical period onward the
emergence of a precise view of the underworld can be followed, influenced by Greek conceptions of
its geography: the ferryman Charon, ferrying the dead across the river Acheron to the hereafter, was
adopted as Charun in Etruscan culture, where further male and female demons of their own peopled
the underworld.
Keywords: Funerary ideology, Etruscan graves, Etruscan Underworld, orphic religion, Dionysian cult
Introduction
Cemeteries are our greatest source of knowledge of the Etruscans, because the Etrus-
can elite furnished their tombs very richly, a “barbarian” custom that they adopted
throughout the civilization, from the second half of the eighth century BCE onward.
The three major arts—sculpture, architecture, and painting—were developed mostly
for use in burials. Although (or because) this constitutes a huge amount of informa-
tion, a detailed study of death and burial in Etruria is still lacking; the various reviews
of aspects of the whole subject, usually involving a single site or a particular period in
history, show that the development of a funerary ideology is closely connected to con-
temporary religion and society. Funerary ideology is a traditional and conservative
matter. Up-to-date analyses of single sites specifically concern the Iron Age and the
Orientalizing period,1 while the more complex Archaic and Late Archaic periods are
less well known.2 From the Classical period onward the emergence of a precise view
of the underworld can be followed, influenced by Greek conceptions of its geography:
the ferryman Charon, ferrying the dead across the river Acheron to the hereafter, was
1 Krauskopf 2006 and Prayon 2006 are the most recent general introductions to the subject. For recent
reviews of individual cases see von Eles 2006 (Verucchio and Tarquinia) and Bonaudo, Cerchiai, and
Pellegrino, eds. 2009 (several sites in Emilia-Romagna and Campania).
2 Batino 1998 and Bonaudo, Cerchiai, and Pellegrino, eds. 2009.
318 Alessandro Naso
adopted as Charun in Etruscan culture, where further male and female demons of
their own peopled the underworld.3
1 Funerary ideology
The development of a funerary ideology is closely connected to the contemporary
society, and the custom of burying an individual is a specific cultural choice, con-
necting the society of the living to the community of the dead, as Bruno d’Agostino
has clarified on several occasions.4 The furnishings are the material component of
rituals and ceremonies, which otherwise often remain totally unknown. The burial
and the furnishings reflect select aspects of the deceased—his or her position in the
family, the society, political life, and religious life—which were highlighted by those
who carried out the burial. To understand the meaning of the interments, one has to
know the relevant society and its outlook, by collecting texts, rites, myths, iconogra-
phy, and iconology (see chapter 6 Lubtchansky). Otherwise, as is the case for societies
with as few written texts as the Etruscans, one has to work with the furnishings, their
composition, and their relationships.
Several cemeteries in Etruria have been explored, but Etruscan tombs have often
been looted of their treasures, their contents damaged or destroyed, so that they can
no longer be interpreted for this purpose. Only a few tombs have been found as they
were originally sealed, and it is impossible to know whether they can be taken as
a typical or random sample. Between continuity and discontinuity, the concept of
an underworld as a space geographically separate from the world, which has to be
reached after death, is deeply rooted in Etruscan culture. The iconography of Etrus-
can burial monuments often includes horses, chariots, and ships, which are clear
references to the journey of the dead to the underworld.5
2 Iron Age
Cremation, the prevalent burial custom in the Early Iron Age in Etruria, meant the
physical destruction of the dead, and the collection of the remaining bones (Lat.
ossilegium) in a cinerary urn, following a pattern already established in the Bronzo
3 Roncalli 1997, 40–43.

4 For the development of funerary ideology in ancient societies see d’Agostino 2011a.
5 See now Scarrone 2011.

19 Death and burial 319
Fig. 19.1: Villanovan graves from Tarquinia
finale6 (see chapter 42 Trocchi). This operation extended to the remains from the pyre,
which contained charcoal, ashes, and cremation detritus. Some burials have two
urns—one for the deceased and one for the pyre remains. In Etruria and the areas of
the Italian peninsula connected to Etruscan expansion, including Emilia Romagna,
the Marches, and northern and southern Campania, the cinerary urns usually have a
biconical form with two handles, one of which was often intentionally broken during
a ritual for the deposition of the urn in a pit grave (Fig. 19.1). With the same purpose
of avoiding reuse of the urn, several urns have only one handle. Some details make
it clear that the urns were viewed and handled as a reproduction of the human body
that had been destroyed by the fire. Sometimes urns were put horizontally in fossa
graves like a buried person; some have ornamental chains or clothing draped over
them7 The urn is closed by a lid, which may be a bowl or a sort of helmet, i.e. an over-
turned bowl with a knob in the center. Generally, bowls were limited to female and
helmets to male depositions, but it is important to note local variations site by site.
By analyzing the remains of bones from the cineraria found in the Early Iron Age
cemetery of Villa Bruschi Falgari at Tarquinia, which has recently been explored, and
comparing them with the archaeological finds, Flavia Trucco was able to distinguish
differing customs for the cremations of children/young people versus adults by differ-
6 The Italian phrase Bronzo finale would be translated “Final Bronze Age,” to avoid the expression
“Late Bronze Age.”
7 Delpino 2008.

320 Alessandro Naso
ences in the placement of the bowl used as a lid. For younger people, the bowl is small
and placed right side up, to hold remains of the pyre and food offerings such as meat
or fruit. For men and women, the bowl is larger and placed upside down. There are
some interesting exceptions: in some cineraria containing adult male cremations, the
bowls face up, as in children’s graves. Did these men, treated like children in death,
have a low social position? This is a possibility.8 In some cases in the same cemetery,
the remaining bones were probably washed and placed in the urn wrapped in a cloth,
as documented by the decorations that survive, such as sheet bronze ornaments
stitched to the cloth, or fibula used to fasten it. The clay helmets may have on their
knob an exact reproduction of a hut roof, a custom already documented in the Bronzo
Finale in central Italy both in Etruria and in Latium Vetus.9 This connection with the
dwelling is repeated by the rare cinerary urns in shape of a hut, which were used
occasionally in Etruria and often in Latium Vetus from the Bronzo Finale onward.10
Some burials belonging to the last decades of the Iron Age, in the third quarter of the
eighth century, already show some of the main characteristics of the subsequent Ori-
entalizing period. These include luxury goods, which were directly imported from the
Levant or Greece, or locally made but inspired by imports, and are identified in rich
male and female burials in Tarquinia and Capua.11
The shift from the Iron Age to the Orientalizing period was marked both by continu-
ity and discontinuity. Inhumation burial is now the most common funerary practice,
but new forms of interments were introduced, including chamber tombs contained
in huge tumuli. Some tumuli were used by the same family for several generations,
but originally a tumulus was built for the burial of a single person. This practice can
be closely connected to the cult of this person as ancestor (see chapter 48 Trocchi
and Section 7, below). Huge tumuli, clearly inspired by Near Eastern models in Syria
and Phrygia, created a new funerary landscape in Etruria, whether located in cem-
eteries around the cities or isolated in the countryside, with the function of marking
land ownership by the elite.12 In Etruria the tumulus developed as a new space
8 Trucco 2006, 96–97.

9 Bietti Sestieri and De Santis 2004. Nizzo 2010 for further comparisons between Etruscan and Latian
burials.
10 Bartoloni 1998, with previous bibliography. See von Eles 2006, too.
11 Babbi and Peltz 2013 for the Warrior Grave in Tarquinia; d’Agostino 2011b for Grave 722 in Capua.
12 For Etruria see Zifferero 2011; knowledge of tumuli in the eastern Mediterranean have been
enlarged by the proceedings of the Istanbul conference (Henry and Kelp 2016).

intended for funerary cults. Friedhelm Prayon notes, for instance, that in southern
Etruria the entrance doors and the corridors of chamber tombs dating to the seventh
century are often oriented in a northwest–southeast direction: this corresponds to
the Etruscan conception of heaven, known from late descriptions by Roman authors,
whose northwestern portion housed the gods of the underworld (Figs. 19.2–19.3).13
The orientation of the Orientalizing chamber tombs seems to confirm that the idea of
an underworld is an old tradition with deep roots in Etruscan culture, and the con-
servative character of Etruscan funerary culture begins to emerge. Pursuing the ten-
dency already begun in the Iron Age, there is an effort to reproduce the body of the
deceased in the burials. For instance, in interments in Vulci and Marsiliana, which
date to the first half of the seventh century, some sheet-bronze busts consisting of a
sphere for the head, a cylinder for the neck, and two conical elements for the arms,
imitate the shape of a human body in geometric form.14 In the same period, in Chiusi
and the surrounding territory canopic urns with masks that reproduced human
faces came into use.15 The iconography of seventh-century burial monuments shows
the journey of the dead to the underworld: horses, as in the wall painting of the
Campana Tomb in Veii; two wheeled chariots, as in the Zannoni stela in Bologna;
and ships, as in the vase painting on the jug from Tragliatella, are clear references to
the modes of travel.16
The locations of cemeteries usually changed in the Orientalizing period. The areas
reserved for cemeteries are usually around the cities or the settled land, following a
pattern already established in the Iron Age. In most cases, however, the general topog-
raphy of the cemeteries was deeply modified from the Orientalizing period onward,
as shown by Caere in southern Etruria and Pontecagnano in southern Campania. In
both cases, the Iron Age cemeteries—Sorbo at Caere and ECI at Pontecagnano—were
partly or totally abandoned and new areas designated for burials, and they were used
as cemeteries for many centuries: the Banditaccia at Caere and the Second Western
cemetery at Pontecagnano.17
The lifestyle of the Etruscan elite and the composition of tomb goods were dra-
matically changed by the luxury items imported from Near Eastern regions to Etruria.
Bronze cauldrons from northern Syria, silver ribbed bowls sometimes plated with
gold, silver or bronze jugs from both Cyprus and the Levant, and Phoenician or Syrian
glass bowls delighted the Etruscan elite, who placed them as furnishings in burials
13 Prayon 1975, 85–90, pl. 82. A new reconstruction of the Etruscan heaven has been recently
suggested (Stevens 2009).
14 Cristofani 1985, 288–89, nos. 107–9.
15 Paolucci 2010; 2015.
16 Prayon 2006, 57–60.
17 Prayon 1975 for Caere and Bonaudo et al. 2009, 170–75, for Pontecagnano.

322 Alessandro Naso
Fig. 19.2: Tumuli with several chamber tombs in the necropolis of Caere: the oldest tomb is always
oriented northwest (after Prayon 1975, pl. 82)

Fig. 19.3: Etruscan conception of the heaven
at several cities, including Vetulonia, Marsiliana, Caere, and Pontecagnano. Some

imports were adjusted for sepulchral purposes, as is shown for instance by the snake
heads on the—likely—Cypriot silver cauldron plated with gold from the Bernardini
Tomb in Praeneste.18
Two warrior burials from Pontecagnano in southern Campania, dating to the
second quarter of the seventh century, are particularly important, because they were
found intact. Fossa graves 926 and 928 have similar plans. Both are bordered by
stone slabs, and both include a recess in the ground containing bronze cauldrons;
in both recesses one cauldron was used as a funerary urn (Figs. 19.4–19.5). The caul-
drons were probably wrapped in cloth fastened with silver fibulae. Precious silver
and bronze jugs and bowls were found in the recesses. In the fossa lay iron tools
like spearheads, axes, spits, and andirons, as well as animal bones and clay vases
of various origins. In both graves, the difference is clear between objects relating to
18 Canciani and von Hase 1981, 36–37, no. 16.

324 Alessandro Naso
Fig. 19.4: Plan of grave 926 at Pontecagnano

(after d’Agostino 1977, fig. 2)

Fig. 19.5: Plan of grave 928 at Pontecagnano (after d’Agostino 1977, fig. 13)

326 Alessandro Naso
the sacrifice, including tools and portions of animal flesh, placed in the fossa, and
the most valuable items, which belonged to the deceased warriors and which were
concentrated in the niche with the bones. Bruno d’Agostino compares both niches to
the thalamos, a room in ancient Greek houses that contained the most valuable pos-
sessions (Gk. agalmata) of the hero, revealing his social status (Gk. ktemata). In both
graves, the adoption of the cremation ritual, reserved in Homeric Greece for heroes,
has been seen as a Greek influence; on the other hand, at Pontecagnano inhumation
predominated.19
The two categories of items that are so clearly distinguished in the two warrior
graves at Pontecagnano—the personal property of the dead and the objects used
in the funeral—are distinguished in most Etruscan interments. A third category is
evident, too: objects belonging to the tomb furnishings that were not personal prop-
erty or related to the cult. As is usual for funerary practices, which were very con-
servative, the use of three categories of funerary furnishings continued throughout
Etruscan civilization.
In the well-known Regolini-Galassi Tomb at Caere, dating to the second quarter
of the seventh century, the furnishings were displayed in spaces comparable in func-
tion to the two graves of Pontecagnano and included all three categories. This tufa-
block tomb, consisting of one long corridor and two small side chambers, held two
deceased persons, a woman buried with an exceptional parure of gold jewelry in
the corridor, and a man whose bones were placed in an urn in the right chamber. A
buried woman and a cremated man in the same interment are widely attested in Ori-
entalizing Etruria.20 The high status of the female, probably a queen (see chapter 47
Naso), is further emphasized by bronze items, including eight shields, some of them
still hanging on the walls, which were placed in the innermost part of the chamber,
corresponding to the thalamos. The front portion of the corridor held bronze objects
belonging to the cultic sphere, which include not only a ritual cart, cauldrons with
their related stands, spits, and andirons, but also a bed and a four-wheeled wagon.
The bed and wagon were used respectively for viewing the body at home (Gk. pro-
thesis) and bringing it to the tomb (Gk. ekphora). In the tomb, about forty bucchero
statuettes of women were placed around the bed, to recall the women weeping for
the dead during the funeral (Lat. praeficae). The left side chamber was devoted to the
sumptuous life of the queen, containing, among other things, a silver wine service,
including twelve bowls of various forms, a little amphora, and two jugs. Some of these
vessels, used for drinking wine mixed with water, bear the same Etruscan inscrip-
tion, mi larthia, “I am (property) of Larth.” Since Larth is a male personal name, the
wine service was a gift from Larth to the deceased woman, probably his daughter or
19 D’Agostino 1977, 54–61.

20 List of examples in Palmieri 2004, 21–22.

wife. Additional metal vases, including twelve ribbed bowls, one of silver and eleven
bronze, still hung on the walls of that chamber.21
Near the exceptionally rich tombs just mentioned, several interments, dating
from the second half of the seventh century onward, have a great quantity of clay
vases instead of metal furnishings. Like the metal vessels, the clay vases were
imported from Greek manufacturing centers such as Corinth, East Greece, Sparta, and
Athens, or produced in Etruria. The vases produced in Etruria include coarse ware
(It. impasto), several types of painted pottery, and bucchero. The various vases were
arranged in sets, each one with a specific function. It has been noted that impasto
services, including plates, were mostly intended for food, while bucchero, in a large
variety of jugs and chalices, was mostly used for drinking wine.22 Trade amphorae
imported from several Greek cities, including Corinth, Athens, Chios, and Samos,
have been found in Etruscan tombs from the first half of the seventh century onward.
The amphorae, developed mostly for trading wine and oil, found their final use in
funeral contexts as wine containers. This hypothesis needs to be confirmed by analy-
sis of the organic remains in the amphorae.23 From the Orientalizing period onward,
the custom spread of placing a variety of food (meat, fish, eggs, fruit) in the tombs as
offerings to the dead (Ger. Totenmahl). The chamber tombs were conducive to good
preservation of organic remains, which improves our knowledge not only of funerary
ideology, but also of agriculture.24
4 Archaic and Classical periods

Around the year 580, the development of the city as an institution and changes in
Etruscan society are reflected in the interments. The elite, now more numerous,
invested the surplus not only in funerary accommodations, but also in the construc-
tion of sanctuaries and public structures. The newly established settlement pattern
included an increasing occupation of the countryside in order to produce more food.
City and countryside must now be distinguished in every aspect of Etruscan civiliza-
tion. From the early sixth century onward, the historical development of Etruscan
civilization reveals the major importance achieved by individual cities and great dis-
tricts, each one having its own characteristics. For instance, the custom of putting
21 Colonna and Di Paolo 1997, 154–72. Further evidence in Buranelli and Sannibale 2005.
22 Batino 1998, 23–24.
23 On Greek trade amphorae see Naso 2005, with previous literature; on Greek imported amphorae
in Etruria see Rizzo 2007, 43–47, nos. 74–76. Modern analyses of the contents of trade amphorae, such
as has been done on samples from Sardinia (Botto, Bordignon, and Positano 2005), are still lacking
for Etruria.
24 Bertani 1995 for Bologna and its surroundings, with literature.

328 Alessandro Naso
stone stelae and markers (Gk. semata) outside tombs spread all over Etruria, but the
forms exhibit considerable local variation (see Section 8 below). This detail and the
absence of specific research on the subject make it difficult to follow general lines
of development throughout Etruria. As influence grew from both Athens and Rome,
where sumptuary laws against the high cost of burials were promulgated, in Etruscan
Veii and its countryside only a few objects were entrusted to the tombs.25
The deceased could be buried, as was usual in southern Etruria, or cremated, as
was usual in northern Etruria,26 but there are many exceptions. Cremations in Attic
and Etruscan figured vases are known in southern Etruria during the sixth and fifth
centuries, as earlier. In Tarquinia, cremation is not limited to a single age, given that
the cremated persons are identified as youths, most not more than twenty years of
age, or as people older than sixty, but the age of the deceased is not always clear.27 The
existence of familial traditions—at least for the elite—is assumed, possibly followed
for several centuries.
In Campania there was a long tradition of cremation as a funerary ritual: the
oldest interment at Cumae dates to the end of the eighth century and shows Euboean
influence. Regarding the seventh century, we reviewed the graves at Pontecagnano in
section 3 above. During the sixth century, both male and female aristocrats in Capua
were cremated in rich tombs, such as the Quattordici Ponti Tomb, in the specific form
of the cube tomb. In the Late Archaic (510–470 BCE), local Capuan aristocrats adopted
distinctive bronze urns as containers for the ashes (Fig. 74.8). The lids of these urns
are decorated with human statuettes reproducing subjects related to the ideals of
the aristocracy such as athletic games.28 The images painted on the Attic red-figured
stamnoi, which were probably used in Capua as cinerary urns in the fifth century,
reproduce Dionysian motifs and death scenes, which clarify the funerary ideology of
the Capuan elite.29
The painted tombs of Tarquinia, which from 530 onward show various moments
of the funeral rituals, have a special role in our understanding of funerary rituals.
Some tombs reproduce the structure of wood and textile tents, in which the viewing
(Gk. prothesis) of the deceased took place. The scenes painted on the walls of these
small chamber tombs reproduce several activities, such as symposia and athletic
games that took place during the funerals and that included fighters, boxers, and
25 Bartoloni, Nizzo, and Taloni 2009, 65–66, with references.

26 See for instance the cemeteries of Chiusi and its countryside (Paolucci and Rastrelli 1999, 96–97).
27 For southern Etruria, Palmieri 2011; for Tarquinia, Palmieri 2005; for a case at Caere, Michetti 2004.
28 Cerchiai 1999 reviews the interments in Capua; Bellelli 2006 published the Quattordici Ponti
Tomb. Benassai 1995 and Cammarota 2011 on Capuan bronze urns (Gk. dinoi), which have also been
found in northern Campania at Suessula, Oplontis, Cumae, and Calatia (Laforgia 2009, 109–11, fig. 11),
and in Etruria at Perugia (Benassai 2002). An isolated statuette belonging to a Capuan dinos reached
modern-day Ehringen in southern Germany (Guggisberg 2005).
29 Rendeli 1993.

two-wheeled chariot races. Stressing the function of the tomb as the place of tran-
sition between life and death, Mario Torelli argues that the games belonged to the
living, while the symposia belonged to the dead.30 Francesco Roncalli notes that in
the painted tombs at Tarquinia the usual absence of decoration on the side walls
closest to the entrance door, versus the presence of paintings in the interior part of
the chambers. This was reserved for the deposition true and proper, as we have seen
in older tombs such as the Regolini-Galassi Tomb at Caere.31 It may also be added that
from the fourth century onward, the Etruscans used the term cela (Lat. cella) for the
interior chamber, which was the funerary one.32
The furnishings of this period show new forms, but the same functions already
noted in the Orientalizing period.33 Specific investigation has been carried out on Attic
vases found in Etruscan cemeteries,34 cities and settlements,35 and sanctuaries,36 pro-
ducing an impressive amount of information. The choice of the subjects painted on
Attic vases for Etruscan customers’ tombs to form more or less homogeneous sets has
not yet been the object of systematic research, probably because of the huge quantity
of pottery. Single cases, such as the Brygos Tomb at Capua and Tomb 128 in Valle
Trebba at Spina, show how careful and consistent such selection could be.37 From the
second quarter of the fifth century onward, the Attic red-figured vases show a growing
number of scenes derived from the imagery of Dionysios, the Greek god of wine. The
ceramics from Bologna and Spina show the high popularity of this Greek divinity in
Etruria, probably because of the eschatological teachings of the Dionysiac cult.38 The
provenance from these cities of such important evidence regarding the Greek cults is
no accident. From the fifth century onward, the role of the Etruscan cities of the Po
Valley increases in the general development of Etruscan funerary culture, because
Greek commerce was localized in the Adriatic ports, and that brought the possibility
of contact with new ideas.39
30 Torelli 1997, 122–48.

31 Roncalli 2003.
32 Colonna and von Hase 1984, 24 n. 15.
33 Batino 1998. 
34 Reusser 2002. 
35 Bentz and Reusser 2004; Spivey 2006. 
36 Fortunelli and Masseria 2009. 
37 For Capua: Williams 1992. I cannot accept the final conclusion of this brilliant study that identifies
the Capuan deceased person as Greek, which was inspired by criteria that are widely followed in
Classical archaeology (Izzet 2007). For Spina: Isler-Kerényi 2003.
38 Govi 2009, 34–35 for Bologna and Pizzirani 2009 for Spina, both with literature.
39 The funeral stela from Bologna reproducing demons of Greek origin, studied by Cerchiai 1995, may
be a direct consequence of this relationship.

330 Alessandro Naso
5 Late Classical and Hellenistic periods

The ships painted around the middle of the fifth century on the walls of the Tomb
of the Ship at Tarquinia show that the journey to the underworld was thought to be
by sea.40 This is confirmed by other painted tombs in Tarquinia, such as the tomb
of the Blue Demons, which dates to the second half of the fifth century. Francesco
Roncalli notes that the paintings in this tomb mark the shift to a new age, because for
the first time a precise view of the underworld can be seen, which is influenced by
Greek ideas about its geography. The Greek ferryman Charon (Etr. Charun), ferrying
the dead across the river Acheron to the hereafter, was adopted in Etruria, where male
and female demons of their own populated the underworld. In the Tomb of the Blue
Demons, two horrible male demons are seated on a large rock on a side wall near the
entrance door. They are in sharp contrast with the opposite side wall, which is domi-
nated by the quiet scene of musicians playing for the symposium depicted on the
chamber’s front wall. The position of the demons near the entrance door marks the
access to the underworld and shows how terrible the hereafter was thought to be. The
rock is the symbol of the death in other fifth- and fourth-century Etruscan artifacts
as well, as Roncalli originally pointed out.41 Other scholars interpret the paintings of
the Tomb of the Blue Demons differently.42 Direct influence of Greek funerary ideol-
ogy, particularly the Orphic doctrine further developed by Pythagoras of Samos (ca.
570–495) when the philosopher moved to southern Italy, is visible in the wall paint-
ings of the Tomb of the Orcus II at Tarquinia, which dates to the end of the fourth
century. The small human figures are the animulae of Orphic religion; the souls in the
underworld are looking for safety or their metempsychosis (Fig. 19.6).43
During the fourth century, the use of stone coffins or sarcophagi to contain single
burials and related furnishings increased in the chamber tombs.44 The sarcophagus
of the founder of the family and of the tomb (Lat. pater familias) was emphasized
through its central position in the chamber and often through an inscription. The
friezes sculpted or—rarely—painted on the long sides of the chest reproduce scenes
inspired by the daily life of the dead, adapted to the funerary destination by the inser-
tion of demons or other details of the underworld. A constant reference to an under-
world is seen in the presence of sea creatures, both real, like dolphins, or fantastic,
like seahorses and sirens. They always function as an allusion to the body of water
that needed to be crossed to reach the hereafter.45
40 Colonna 2003.
41 Roncalli 1997.
42 An overview has been offered by Adinolfi, Carmagnola, and Cataldi 2005.
43 Bottini 1992, 16, for Etruscan tomb paintings related to Orphic doctrine.
44 Etruscan stone sarcophagi are collected by Herbig 1952, supplemented by the critical observations
of G. Colonna (1993). In southern Etruria clay sarcophagi were popular (Gentili 1994).
45 Boosen 1986.

Fig. 19.6: Tarquinia, Tomb of the Orcus II: Agamemnon and Tiresias in the Netherworld;
on the tree, animulae (after Steingräber 2006, 189)
6 Late Hellenistic and Republican periods

From the second half of the fourth century, and with particular intensity during the
third and second centuries, Etruscan handicrafts were characterized by a degree of
standardization, which is visible in the stone reliefs as well as in the pottery and
bronze work.46 This tendency was particularly strong in southern Etruria after the
years of the Second Punic War (or Hannibal’s War, 218–202) and emerged later in
northern Etruria (see chapter 64 de Angelis). In both districts it is reflected in the
repetitive composition of the funerary furnishings, which still include several types of
clay vases, usually grouped in drinking and eating services. Regarding funerary ide-
ology, two phenomena emerged in this period. The first is the presence of low-value
coins in the grave goods, following a practice long documented in Greece and Italy.
The coins in the interments have traditionally been interpreted as Charon’s obol—the
fare for transport to the underworld—but this simplistic statement needs to be veri-
fied. It should be compared with important information, such as the position of the
46 Pianu 1985, 326–37, revised by Ambrosini 2011.

332 Alessandro Naso
Fig. 19.7: Cinerary urn from Chiusi with Orestes killing his mother Clytaemnestra
(Chiusi, Nat. Mus. 234) (after Steuernagel 1998, 197 no. 75)
coin in the burial, the rank, sex, and age of the deceased, and so on, as has recently
been stressed by Renata Cantilena for ancient Campania.47 The situation in Etruria is
not clear, because specific research has yet to be done.
The second new phenomenon is the widespread adoption of Greek myths focusing
on death. The friezes on the cinerary urns adopted in several cities in northern Etruria
offer a wide selection of Greek myths relating to the death of legendary figures, as cel-
ebrated in the Greek tragedies devoted to the Homeric and Theban cycles (Fig. 19.7).48
The probable aim is the self-identification of the Etruscan deceased with these heroes.
The characteristic standardization of Etruscan handicrafts in this period forbids us to
compare the repetitive friezes of the urns with the few exceptional cases that pursued
47 Cantilena 1995a, 1995b.

48 Steuernagel 1998 examines the friezes including altars, de Angelis 2015 the urns from Chiusi.

this aim in earlier centuries. Around 490, the suicide of Croesus on the pyre has been
reproduced on an Attic red-figured amphora from Vulci painted by Myson in Athens.
This is the only depiction of the myth and was probably painted in Athens as a special
commission intended for the ashes of a sophisticated Etruscan gentleman.49 The
friezes on the urns include Etruscan demons, which may be inspired by Greek culture,
such as the ferryman Charun, or Etruscan culture, such as the female Vanth (with
torch and scrolls), the female Culsu, and the male Tuchulcha. Such demons, which
are more or less horrible, were not necessarily an invention of this period, but were
reproduced during this period with special frequency.50
7 Cults in Etruscan cemeteries

The remains of buildings consisting of foundation walls, altars, and architectural
terra-cotta that were originally part of roof decorations have been found in several
Etruscan cemeteries, and prove the existence of structures presumably reserved for
burial cults, at least from the Archaic period onward. A well-known case is the build-
ing identified on top of Tumulo II del Sodo near Cortona.51 Although inscriptions are
still lacking, the ancestor cult, which is documented in many ancient societies, has
also been observed in Etruria.52 A particular case has been explored at Populonia in
the cemetery on the Gulf of Baratti, where about 250 pieces of spearheads and spear-
butts have been found near a small stone tumulus (diam. 5 m), in which interments
have not been found. One can imagine that the spears marked the presence of the
stone monument, which dates to the late seventh century and was worshiped in the
following centuries.53
8 Statues, stelae, and semata 

According to Etruscan ritual, stone and probably wooden artifacts of various forms
were placed in cemeteries as markers (Gk. semata) near the tombs, particularly on
top of the mounds, if there were any, and in front of the entrance doors.54 The form
49 Paris, Louvre inv. no. G 197, recently published by Denoyelle 1994, 120–21; Torelli 1987, 399 stresses
its probable use as a funerary urn.
50 Krauskopf 1987, 11–18, 72–94 and now Klinger 2013, with further literature.
51 Overview of such cults in Colonna 1985, 116–26. On the finds of Tumulo II del Sodo of Cortona see
Zifferero 2011, 81–82, with literature.
52 Colonna and von Hase 1984, 81–82; Prayon 2006, 45–56.
53 First notices in Camilli 2005, 248; Camilli 2016, 104–105.
54 See van Kampen 2009.

334 Alessandro Naso
of the artifacts relates strictly to their function. At least from the late Orientalizing
period onward, statues of animals such as lions or fantastic creatures like sphinxes
were adopted to mark the imaginary border of the afterworld on the ground.55 Stelae
otherwise emphasized the position or the entrance of the tomb. In the Late Oriental-
izing period, stone pillars with figured decoration in bas-relief were introduced in
the cemeteries of Vulci, where in the Archaic period some workshops producing lion
and sphinx statues have been identified.56 The great local variability of tomb markers
in the various cities of Etruria must be stressed. Stelae were introduced at Bologna
already in the seventh century,57 and they flourished in several forms, particularly
from the late sixth to the early fourth century.58 Stelae are particularly widespread
in northern Etruria. Single items dating to the late seventh century have been found
at Vetulonia59 and Monte Gualandro near Perugia,60 and dating to the sixth century
at San Casciano.61 In the sixth century, local workshops flourished because each
city had its own form, as was usually the case in Etruria: several items are known at
Faesulae,62 Volterra,63 Populonia,64 and Rosellae.65
In southern Etruria, several forms of stone cippi were exclusive to female and
male burials, following local variants. Regarding female burials, cippi reproduc-
ing houses and recalling burial ideology were especially widespread. Although one
example in the form of a hut roof from the cemetery of Poggio Selciatello di Sopra at
Tarquinia dates to the Iron Age, such cippi are particularly widespread at Caere and
its surroundings in the late seventh to the sixth century and again from the fourth
century onward.66 Three warrior-head cippi have been found in male graves of the
second half of the sixth century at Orvieto, which have been interpreted not only as
funerary markers, but also as signs of resurrection.67 Marble cippi in the form of a
club, although of earlier origin, were popular during the fifth century in northern
Etruria, especially in the Pisa and Volterra districts, where other forms developed.68
From the fourth century onward, cippi of cylindrical form were used at Caere to mark
55 Spivey 1988, 15–16.

56 Bruni 1988 (stone pillars); Martelli 2001, 2004, 2005 (statues).
57 Approximately 40 are known: Marchesi 2011.
58 Appproximately 200 horseshoe stelae (stele a ferro di cavallo): Sassatelli and Govi 2007, 2010.
59 The well–known stela with the Etruscan inscription of Avle Feluske: Maggiani 2007, with previous
literature.
60 Magi 1964; Maggiani 2007, 70.
61 Maggiani 2007, 70.
62 Magi 1932.
63 Minto 1937; Maggiani 2007, 70.
64 Martelli 1979.
65 Maggiani 2007, 70–71, with literature.
66 Scala 2003.
67 Maggiani 2005. On later cippi in Orvieto and its countryside: Tamburini 1987.
68 Bonamici 2007, with literature; overview of marble cippi in northern Etruria: Bonamici 1991.

male depositions. The exemplars found at Aleria in Corsica and at Carthage in North
Africa can be connected with people from Caere and are considered signs of geo-
graphic mobility.69
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Robert Rollinger
20 Haruspicy from the Ancient Near East
to Etruria
Abstract: The paper deals with the cultural technique of divination, its development in the Ancient
Near East and the possible influence of this craft on the Etruscan diviners and augurs. It presents the
major characteristics of the different divination techniques starting with their documentation at the
beginning of the second millennium BCE and reaching as far as the last centuries of the first millen-
nium BCE. It shows that divination was a highly professionalized and specialized discipline with a
scientific spirit where not only the communication with the gods but also writing and the interpreta-
tion of divine signs were looming large. In the course of centuries a vast array of companions and
manuals, commentaries and excerpts has been created. The diviners were distinct by their education
and were regarded to dispose of secret knowledge. Haruspicy (extispicy) played a major role in this
context. The paper discusses the hermeneutics and techniques of the discipline and puts the craft into
an intercultural context.
Keywords: Haruspicy, extispicy, divination, intercultural exchange, secret knowledge
Introduction
Although intercultural contacts between the Ancient Near East and the cultures further
to the west have become a common and fairly popular topic in the last decades, the
issue of divination does not seem to play a prominent role in this context. About half a
century ago, the situation was quite different. Whereas in general scepticism was pre-
vailing concerning cultural exchange between the Levantine and the more Western
Mediterranean cultures, it was exactly divination where doubts about these contacts
were far less dominant. This may be due to the fact that, in this case, the main focus
was not on “oriental” and Aegean contacts but on Levantine – Etruscan ones. From
the beginning haruspicy1 loomed large in these discussions. In two independent
seminal studies Jean Nougayrol and Giuseppe Furlani respectively, were collecting
and discussing the evidence concerning the relationship between Etruscan and Meso-
potamian forms of divination in general and haruspicy in special.2 The bronze liver
of Piacenza and the clay liver from Falerii Veteres have been main points of reference
in this discussion. Since these two Etruscan liver models are the only exemplars so
far testified outside the Near East where such models are attested broadly from the
beginning of the second millennium B.C.E., this was a strong argument in favour of
Assyro-Babylonian extispicy influencing Etruscan hepatoscopy. Furthermore, appli-
1 In the following I use haruspicy and extispicy as synonymous terms.

2 Nougayrol 1955; Furlani 1957.
342 Robert Rollinger
cations and marks on the clay liver of Falerii Veteres which bears no inscriptions have
been interpreted as corresponding to similar elements on Near Eastern liver models.
Moreover, the division of the bronze liver of Piacenza into different sections has been
regarded as coinciding with Babylonian conceptions.3 Yet, the conviction of a direct
Near-Eastern influence has become weaker in more recent years.4 And indeed, there
are clear differences between the Etruscan and Babylonian liver models. The inscrip-
tions on the bronze liver indicate Etruscan and Italic deities and elements. What is
more, queries and prayers connected with Etruscan extispicy were not directed to one
specific deity. Thus, the prominent role played by the Mesopotamian sun god Šamaš
and the storm god Adad has no counterpart in the Etruscan discipline where the
reading of the entrails could be performed in the service of any deity. But a closer look
on modern studies in intercultural contacts exhibits, that such differences by no way
disprove possible contacts between East and West. Cultural borrowings are always
embedded into new contexts and adapted to new structures.5 This already becomes
evident when we look at the Ancient Near East as such, which was far from being a
homogenous cultural zone.6 Divination techniques spread from Mesopotamia proper
to neighbouring regions such as Anatolia, Syria-Palestine and Iran where they were
reshaped, modified and “reinvented”. A good example for this development is the
Hittite omens of the second millennium BCE. Although omen compendia have been
imported from Babylonia and translated into Hittite, the general conception concern-
ing the function of these omina was a different one. Whereas for the Hittites omina
were an expression of divine dismay over the past, for the Babylonians they were far
more a media to deal with the imponderabilities of the future.7 Taking into consid-
eration these general criteria of intercultural borrowings and contacts there are three
major arguments in favour of an ancient Near Eastern influence on Etruscan divina-
tion.
a) The chronological and historical framework: The development of Etruscan
culture coincides with the evolution of a Mediterranean network where ideas,
commodities and cultural techniques were exchanged in all directions.8
b) The cultural context: Etruscan religion in general clearly shows traces of intercul-
tural contacts with the world of the Ancient Near East.9 Contacts, in which form
3 Meyer 1985.
4 Cf. Rasmussen 2003, 135–39.
5 Cf. the contributions in Rollinger and Schnegg 2014.
6 Rollinger 2015.
7 Cf. Van den Hout 2003–05.
8 Colonna 2000; Malkin 2011; Kistler 2014.
9 Cf. Krauskopf 1997.

20 Haruspicy from the Ancient Near East to Etruria 343
ever, did exist as a bronze vessel fragment with a cuneiform inscription in an

Etruscan tomb demonstrates.10
c) Divination as a standardized and distinguished cultural technique: It is not only
extispicy but divination in general where substantial similarities in conception
and performance, structure and organization can be observed.
1 Ancient Near Eastern Liver Models

Our major concern here is these similarities.11 The liver models are a convenient start-
ing point for the discussion of the topic. It has already been stressed that beyond
the Ancient Near East models of sheep liver have only been unearthed in Etruria. All
these models, including the Etruscan ones, are similar in shape and share charac-
teristic features. This is not only true because of the innate anatomical appearance
of a sheep’s liver. These features affect those parts of the liver which are seminal for
the hepatoscopy. What is more, all these models represent sheep livers which were
the basic working objects for the diviners.12 It is true that the details on the liver
models themselves exhibit distinctive differences but this touches upon the different
functions these models had to meet. These functions were highly diversified as the
Ancient Near Eastern exemplars show.
The oldest Ancient Near Eastern specimens hark back to the 19th cent. BCE, the
youngest ones to the 8th century. Although the two Etruscan exemplars are even later,
i.e. third cent. BCE, this is not a real gap. Extispicy is very well attested in the Ancient
Near East until the very end of cuneiform culture, i.e. until Seleucid-Parthian times
(third cent. BCE to first cent. CE). And the Etruscans did not invent divination from the
scratch in the third cent. BCE.
The Ancient Near Eastern models do not only originate from Mesopotamia
proper. To the contrary it can be observed that divination techniques spread from this
core area to the adjacent regions of Anatolia, Syria-Palestine and Iran. The models
preserved are fairly distinctive concerning details and marks.13 Some bear inscrip-
tions, others do not. The reason for this is based on their different assignment and
function. Some have been used as teaching aid to instruct apprentice diviners. These
specimens do not represent the results of one single extispicy but collect all the infor-
mation relevant to introduce young diviners into their future discipline. This is also
10 Fronzaroli 1971. The short inscription names a certain Nabû-iddina who bears the professional title
of a qēpu. These qēpū were Assyrian officials installed in Leventine harbour cities to supervise trade
and taxes with the west: Bagg 2011, 175–79, 189; Rollinger 2011, 269–273.
11 For a survey on Etruscan divination see chapter 21 Haack.
12 In the following I use diviner and haruspex as synonymous terms.
13 Meyer 1980–83.

true for those exemplars which were used as compendia collecting the essentials of a
diviner’s knowledge. Other pieces do represent the outcome of one single extispicy-
performance which was regarded as being of major importance. It is important that
some regions, like e.g. Syria-Palestine, exhibit distinctive developments, as the liver
models from Ḥāṣōr demonstrate.14 These differences do not disprove the Mesopota-
mian origin of these models but show local adaptions and a combination of regional
specifics with foreign impulses.
2 Ancient Near Eastern divination disciplines

Focussing on Ancient Near Eastern divination in general, it becomes immediately
clear that all disciplines, including the Etruscan practice, share characteristic fea-
tures. Extispicy is one of a plenty of divination techniques in the Ancient Near East.
These techniques are very well attested not only by archaeological sources like the
liver models just introduced but by hundreds and thousands of cuneiform texts.
Although the origins of many of these techniques may go back to prehistoric times the
bulk of our documentation starts with the beginning of the second millennium BCE.
During this time, i.e. in the 19th and 18th cent. BCE a stream of tradition becomes
visible which shows an astonishing homogeneity over the centuries and which is
documented until the very end of cuneiform culture in Seleucid and Parthian times.
The divination techniques can be divided into two major groups.
The first group represents those omina which were sent unprovoked by the gods.
The physical surroundings and common occurrences of daily life like the behaviour
of animals, the conditions of weather and climate, the physiognomy and conduct
of human beings, dreams, as well as abnormalities in physical developments were
of major importance in this context. Prophecy loomed large15 and the vast field of
astronomy and astrology was highly relevant although major developments in this
discipline did not start before the first millennium BCE.16
The second group unites those omina which could, at least theoretically, be
provoked by experts at any time and place. Important techniques in this field were
aleuromancy, where flour was poured out in small heaps and the diviner interpreted
shape and orientation as well as lecanomancy, where oil and water were combined
and the diviner interpreted the evolving patterns. Yet the most important technique in
this context, at least as our documentation is concerned, was extispicy.
14 Meyer 1980–83, 527a.

15 Nissinen 2010.
16 Rochberg 2011.

Some techniques could combine characteristic features of both groups. This is

true, for instance, for the observations of the flight of birds which could be inductive
and non-inductive as well.17
3 World View and Writing

All these forms of divination were based upon a specific world view. From the begin-
ning of creation, there was a well established and abiding world order with perma-
nent structures and rules. The gods communicated with human beings by intermedi-
aries, i.e. prophets, or by signs. These signs could not be deciphered by anybody but
experts whose knowledge and skills were based upon an intensive and time consum-
ing training. The gods could send these signs at any time they wanted or as a reply
upon ritualized queries. The signs were regarded to be a form of script thus showing
the fundamental connection between writing and divination.18 Thus, the liver as well
as the starry sky was conceived as the “tablet of gods” where the “heavenly writing”
could be observed and decoded. A text of the first millennium BCE puts this crucial
conception into perspective: “You (the sun god Šamaš) write upon the flesh inside the
sheep (i.e. the entrails), you establish (there) an oracular decision”.19
The diviner could read these signs, interpret them and derive meaning. The world
was full of signs and these signs, or better the divine messages transported by them,
were connected with real phenomena and events of any kind in the near future. Thus,
the imponderabilities of human life could be mastered by observing the natural envi-
ronment meticulously and by decoding the divine messages. Yet, the ancient Mesopo-
tamians did not indulge in any kind of fatalism. For the gods did only communicate
what will happen in the near future if no remedy or countermeasure were introduced
which could change the predicted effects. To put it into modern terms, the interpreta-
tion of a single omen could reveal that a person was infected by looming mischief but
the onset of the disease could be averted by the application of certain remedies. These
remedies were conceptualized as prophylactic rituals and were called namburbi. They
were staged like a divine judicial court where the subject of the sinister omen could
obtain a change to one’s impending fate.20 In this procedure the client was advised
and guided by an expert whom he (she) had to consult and for whose service he (she)
had to pay.
Focussing on the general characteristics of divination in the Ancient Near East
it has already become clear that, from the start of our documentation, the whole dis-
17 Durand 1997. Maul 2002–05, 85–6.

18 Winitzer 2011.
19 OECT 6 pl. 30 quoted according to Rochberg 2004, 2 no. 6.
20 Maul 1994.

cipline was developed in a context with scientific structures. The major agents were
experts who had to pass painstaking training programmes and who were highly spe-
cialized in their activities and fields. Prophecy seems to have been the only field where
male and female experts are attested alike, all the other disciplines were dominated
by men. Professionalization of the disciplines is also highlighted by a variety of des-
ignations concerning the expertise of the diviners. Two important ones are qualified
as āšipu (“exorcist”) and bārû (“diviner”). Whereas the first one seems to have been
primarily engaged in interpreting all those signs which were sent by the gods spon-
taneously, the second one was mainly involved in performing rituals and queries in
order to consciously provoke divine omina on the spot. In any case, these specialists
seem to have been organized in guild-like structures. Their expertise and knowledge
was regarded to be a secrecy revealed by the gods and passed within the exclusive
group of these scholars only.21 At least from the beginning of the second millennium
onwards, this knowledge was preserved in written form.
4 Series, compendia and commentaries

In their most typical formulation individual omina adopted the quintessential form of
Mesopotamian logic.22 This logic was encapsulated in a casuistic sentence comprising
of two different parts. In the first part which can be characterized as protasis a certain
observation was presented. The second part which can be labelled as apodosis ren-
dered the interpretation in form of a forecast. Although in its beginnings divination
seems to have been based predominantly on real observations the factor of writing
became more and more a creative ingredient of this “science”. There was extensive
use of hermeneutic and organizational principles for the purposes of the growing
collections of omina which became manuals and handbooks over the century. This
process of canonization can be observed since the second half of the second millen-
nium. Most of the series and handbook created in this context have been preserved
in the famous library of the Assyrian king Assurbanipal (668–627 BCE) which was
hosted in Nineveh and which can be regarded as one of the world’s first “globalized”
collections of knowledge and books preceding the library of Alexandria for more than
three centuries.23
The series and compendia developed in these contexts are enormous. The
most important collection of astronomical omina Enūma Anu Enlil comprised about
70 tablets (experts: āšipu and ṭupšarru).24 A diagnostic and prognostic handbook of
21 Lenzi 2008.
22 Rochberg 2010.
23 Goldstein 2010.
24 Rochberg 2004.

40 tablets and about 3000 entries was dubbed Sakikkû. Its primary concern were all
kinds of human disease which were interpreted as disruptions of the relationship
between man and god (expert: āšipu).25 Physiognomic and morphoscopic omina were
gathered in different series with more than 2000 entries (expert: āšipu).26 Dreams
were collected in a Dream book of 11 tablets (experts: šā’ilu and bārû).27 One of the
largest collections was called Šumma ālu. The series consisted of 107 tablets some of
which contained more than 200 lines. It was a collection of private omina taken from
miscellaneous occurrences in man’s everyday life dealing with all kind of conspicu-
ous incidents of the physical surroundings. The behaviour of animals played a major
role in this context. 15 Tablets (64–79) were devoted to the interpretation of the flight of
birds in the sky. The total number of omina originally included in this series was prob-
ably around 10.000 (expert: āšipu).28 The major concern of the 24 tablets of the series
Šumma izbu were all kinds of monstrosities, human and animal ones alike (expert:
bārû).29 The seminal importance of extispicy is documented by the series iškar bārûti
with more than 100 tablets and some thousands of omina (expert: bārû).30 Experts
and catalogues were produced to facilitate access; commentaries were a major tool
for the interpretation of the omina.31 One of these, Mukallimtu, commented upon ter-
minology, another one, Multābiltu, comprising of 17 tablets, gave insights into the
hermeneutics of the discipline.32
The important series iqqur īpuš was organized as a menological and hemerologi-
cal handbook, the basic conception of which was the belief of the existence of favour-
able and unfavourable days/months for all sorts of activities which had meticulously
to be adhered to. Such activities encompassed the erection/restoration of any build-
ing (house or temple), every cultic operation, the construction of tombs, work on the
fields, in the garden or at home and any kind of social affairs like marriage and birth.33
5 Extispicy and hepatoscopy

As already mentioned extispicy was performed by the bārû-expert. Apart from the
compendia, series and canonical texts his activities are mainly attested by extispicy
25 Heeßel 2000.
26 Böck 2000.
27 Zgoll 2006.
28 Freedman 1998; Freedman 2006.
29 Leichty 1970.
30 Koch-Westenholz 2000.
31 Frahm 2010.
32 Koch-Westenholz 2005.
33 Maul 2003–2005, 57–8.

reports,34 rituals,35 queries36 and letters.37 The bulk of evidence originates from Old-
Babylonian38 and Neo-Assyrian times. According to these texts it is clear that many
diviners were in the service of king and court and that their discipline intrinsically
touched state affairs. This is also true for other forms of divination. The diviners had
to be paid for their service and the sheep had to be purchased. Although this was
expensive, diviners could also be hired by private clients as Old-Babylonian extispicy
reports exhibit. There we also learn that diviners routinely loaned silver and barely
for the purchase of ritual sheep. It seems that even female diviners did exist although
this might have been fairly exceptional.39 The private Old-Babylonian reports preserve
the names of clients, the period for which the query was effective, the date of perfor-
mance and the issue for which the extispicy was performed. Sometimes the result is
also adduced. Thus, e.g. BM 26594 reads: “One lamb of the ritual of the diviner, for
the (advisability of a) business enterprise, from Month 5, Day 10, to Month 6, Day 2,
flesh for the ritual”. What follows is the report, and the document concludes: “For
Galdani, as far as the (oracular) message, it was favourable. Month 5, Day 10, Year
Ammiṣaduqa 11”.40
Apart from Old-Babylonian documents, especially from the city of Mari,41 diviners
serving court and king are very well attested in Neo-Assyrian times. The queries and
reports originate chiefly from the reigns of Esarhaddon (680–669 BCE) and Assurba-
nipal (668–627 BCE). Like in Old-Babylonian times the god regarded to be responsible
for this discipline is the sun god Šamaš. The queries are placed before him, and both,
queries and reports draw their omina from the relevant extispicy manuals and com-
pendia of this time. The subject matters are highly political ones. They deal with the
intentions and activities of named and unnamed enemies, the loyalty of officials, the
prospective appointees to different offices and the illness of the royal family. Whereas
these queries and reports are the working copies of the diviners at the Assyrian court
writing in coarse hands, there is another divinatory genre attested, also consisting of
queries, called tamītu. These texts which share an unquestionable similarity in the
formulary with the Sargonid queries do not address Šamaš alone but the duo Šamaš
and Adad. They are archival copies from professional scribes. Why they introduced
the storm god Adad and wrote as if the inquiries were always to Šamaš and Adad
jointly is not clear.42
34 Koch-Westenholz 2002; Richardson 2002.

35 Starr 1983.
36 Starr 1990.
37 Parpola 1993.
38 Jeyes 1989.
39 Richardson 2002, 234.
40 Richardson 2002, 239–40.
41 Glassner 2005.
42 Lambert 2007, 10.

Like the Old-Babylonian reports the Neo-Assyrian queries designate a specific

period of time for the efficacy of the extispicy.43 In the extant queries this is from 7
to 100 days (and nights). The query itself abounds in stereotyped key phrases. In its
most elaborate formulation it is structured as follows: “RN44 who is now intent on
sending … (and whom) your great divinity knows – in accordance with the command
of your great divinity, Šamaš, great lord, and your favourable decisions, should RN
strive and plan? … Is it pleasing to your great divinity? If he, having planned, sends
…”.45 The query usually ends with the following closing formula: “Does your great
divinity know it? Is it decreed and confirmed in a favourable case, by the command
of your great divinity, Šamaš, great lord? Will he who can see, see it? Will he who can
hear, hear it?”.46
The reports are autopsies performed on dead sacrificial sheep where the physical
condition of the exta of these animals is recorded. The nomenclature is highly techni-
cal but recent research could clarify most of the terms.47 The entire exta of the sheep
came under scrutiny but the starting and most important point of the inspection was
the liver. The reports note “fixed” anatomical parts like liver, lungs, heart intestines
and parts thereof like the gall bladder. On the liver itself four markings which usually
appear as creases or fissures gained major importance. As Ivan Starr puts it: “It was
the absence of any of these or any other part of liver, their dislocation from their
normal position, or any other abnormality observed on them by the haruspex which
made them ominous, and predictions were derived from their abnormalities”.48
Furthermore, there were fortuitous markings (holes, abrasions, blisters, scars, fis-
sures) whose presence and condition was meticulously observed and regarded to be
ominous. It is interesting to note that the liver itself as a whole was never an object
of examination but its parts were. The exta enumerated in the reports appear in a
kind of canonical order which seems to have remained unchanged from the second
millennium onwards. This also applies for the different parts of the liver itself. The
inspection proceeded in a counter-clockwise direction. Whether there exists a picto-
rial representation of such an inspection49 is debated.50
43 Heeßel 2010.
44 Royal Name.
45 Starr 1990, xix.
46 Starr 1990, xx.
47 Leiderer 1990.
48 Starr 1990, xxxix
49 So Starr 1990, xxvi Fig. 3.
50 Maul 2003–2005, 71b.

6 Ritual performance
The whole inspection was embedded into a ritual framework. At the beginning
the diviner underwent a rite of purification. Therefore he used cedar and tamarisk
as cleansing agents. The sacrificial animal was introduced and consecrated. This
animal, a lamb or a ram, had to be immaculate and impeccable. The ritual had to take
place on a favourable day only. The days 7, 14, 19, 21, 28 as well as the days around the
disappearance of the moon, i.e. the 29th, the 30th and the first were avoided. The pro-
cedure started with the question posed to the divine council chaired by Šamaš. This
question to which a reply in the form of “yes” or “no” was expected, was whispered
into the ear of the lamb which was given as an offering either to Šamaš (and Adad) or
to the personal god of the client for whom the ritual was performed. It was accompa-
nied by ikribū-prayers which could contain a petition to the divine council. An impor-
tant element was the so-called ezib-formulae. They express excuses for any uninten-
tional error which might creep into the ritual. The sacrificial animal was slaughtered
according to a settled procedure. The throat was cut, the animal decapitated and dis-
membered. Parts of the flesh were presented to Šamaš as meal to be consumed. Only
after the sacrifice as such had taken place, the diviner started his inspection. First
he inspected the intestines still in the sacrificial animal’s body noting their design
and the number of the windings. After that they were taken out together with the
other entrails. Although heart and lungs were also inspected the liver was the most
important object of investigation. It was subjected to a detailed examination of the
facies visceralis where no single piece is equal to each other. The diviner proceeding
counter-clockwise meticulously examined well defined squares on the liver. All these
squares were organized in a right and left side. Whereas the right side was regarded to
be “my side” (pars familiaris) the left side was the “side of the enemy”. This definition
was the key element for any interpretation. Well-shaping of the right side was favour-
able, defection was unfavourable. On the left side it was to the contrary. Well-shaping
was unfavourable for the client, defection favourable. The final result was established
by counting the negative and positive signs and putting them into relationship. Did
the positive signs prevail, the god answered “yes”. Did the negative ones predomi-
nate, the god answered “no”. If the answer was unclear the ritual could be repeated.51
7 King and Diviner

A very special client was the king. To work in his service was not only prestigious but
the diviner’s profession immediately conveyed a political dimension. As we especially
51 Jeyes 1989; Maul 2003–05, 76–81.

know from the rich documentation of Neo-Assyrian times, the Assyrian king availed
himself of many different divination techniques which were also used for check and
balances. Besides astrology, prophecy and oneiromancy, extispicy held a seminal
position in this context. By this, the diviner’s knowledge and expertise can be defined
as a kind of “Herrschaftswissen”, i.e. a technique essential for any political system
and ruler to keep power in his hands and to act successfully in political affairs.52 This
implied some kind of control of the diviners by the king. Thus, they were put under
oath. This oath was conceptualized like a treaty: “The scribes, haruspices (bārû), the
exorcists (āšipū), the physicians and the augurs staying in the palace and living in
the city will enter the treaty on the 16th of Nisan. Now, let them conclude the treaty
tomorrow”, as Issar-šumu-ereš informs Esarhaddon in a Neo-Assyrian letter.53 Also in
Old-Babylonian Mari, diviners were sworn in by the court, for they were taken to be
secret carriers. They were obliged to report all meaningful observations to the king
only and to no one else. The court’s demand for these specialists and their service
seems to have been enormous. From Old-Babylonian Mari we know that the royal
diviners required between 429 and 707 animals every month which is an average of
510 a month and 6020 each year.
Every diviner had to comply with certain qualifications, social and physical ones.
A telling source for this is an aetiological legend from Neo-Assyrian times where we
learn how Šamaš and Adad revealed the bārû-lore to an antediluvian king of Sippar,
Enmeduranki by name.54 According to the text only diviners from families of Nippur,
Sippar and Babylon were regarded to be qualified. They had to be born in the right
family. Since these experts had professional secrets, a father had to pass his knowl-
edge to his son. As a consequence the number of the experts was restricted. From
a modern point of view this also had the effect to ensure “a sufficiency of work for
all members of the craft”.55 But there were not only social requirements. A healthy,
defect-free body was of essential importance as well.
8 Conclusions
Reviewing the evidence of Ancient Near Eastern divination in general and for extispicy
in special two important aspects of this craft become evident. The first aspect is the
continuity of the phenomenon documented in our sources for almost two thousand
years. This continuity shaped a highly standardized and systematized discipline
which was conceptualized by a scientific spirit with manuals and handbooks on the
52 Pongratz-Leisten 1999, 8–201.

53 Parpola 1993, No. 7.
54 Lambert 1998.
55 Lambert 1998, 143.

one side and with well established hermeneutics and rules to interpret the ominous
signs on the other side. The premise for all this was the conception of a world full of
signs sent by the gods to communicate with man. As far as extispicy is concerned the
liver war regarded to be the “tablet” where the divine messages became manifest.
These messages had to be decoded and this was done by specialists with professional
knowledge carefully chosen and educated, who established a kind of guild. The
members of these guilds were distinguished by their knowledge and by the secrets of
their profession which were kept inside the peer-group.
The second aspect is important as well. Even within the area of the Ancient Near
East local diversifications and adaptions can be observed which show that extispicy,
as well as other mantic disciplines, like e.g. the augurs’ craft, were not only wander-
ing but changing as well, integrating local and regional developments and require-
ments. Furthermore, our view on divination in the Ancient Near East is, due to the
sources available, primarily a view on the practice and performance of the craft in
the context of the social élites. Yet, it is evident that divination techniques were used
and consumed by all strata of society. Apart from specialists also laymen were very
much active in these fields.56 Thus, the spreading and diversification of mantic tech-
niques from Babylonia proper to east and west was a highly dynamic process taking
place on a plenty of different levels, social and regional ones. Itinerant specialists
and experts may have played a crucial role in this process,57 when, especially in the
first half of the first millennium, the geographical horizon of the Neo-Assyrian empire
started to encompass the Mediterranean as a whole.58 Within this intercultural frame-
work, mantic techniques were transferred to the far west in complex processes on a
multitude of ways.59 The visible traces of the mantic series Šumma izbu in Cicero’s
De Divinatione show that Italy was within the reach of this influence.60 The Etruscan
liver models discussed at the beginning of this paper are a telling part of this process.
Although dated not earlier than to the third c. BCE, they witness vibrant and intricate
intercultural exchange which evolved many centuries before.
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21 Prophecy and divination
Abstract: Emphasis will be given to Etruscan religious “science,” which had the reputation of being
excellent. A divination is discernible whose main principles are put down in writing in three kinds
of books—haruspicinal books (libri haruspicini), books on lightning (libri fulgurales) and ritual books
(libri rituales), and prophecy art resting on the poets’ inspiration. We will try to know who the gods
who pass on their will to men were. Lastly we will focus on men who interpret this will, on their
gender, their behavior and their social status in an independent Etruria and after the Roman con-
quest.
Keywords: Haruspex, books, prophets, lightning, fate
Introduction
What we know of Etruscan prophecy and divination has been transmitted primar-
ily by testimony from the Roman period, as the Roman world was passionate about
Etruscan divination, which seemed far superior to traditional Roman divination.
The Roman historian Livy (5.1.6) depicted the Etruscans as “the most religious of
men.” Etruscan prophecy and divination essentially designates prophetic and
divinatory practices that were considered Etruscan by the Romans. Romans distin-
guished Etruscan methods not only from their own practices, but even more so from
those of the Greeks. While the Greeks relied on inspiration, the Etruscans developed
a “science” of divination and prophecy (haruspicina) through a series of techniques
that enabled them to distinguish and interpret the signs sent by the gods and to
appease their anger. However, although recognized as superior in the art of divina-
tion, called artificiosa, based on a certain technique, the Etruscans also had their
own prophecy.
1 The religious “science”
A) Divinatory knowledge
– knowledge, not a gift

The supposed superiority of the Etruscans in prophecy and divination stems from the
idea that from generation to generation, the Etruscans passed down a body of knowl-
edge, called disciplina in Latin. Unlike the Greeks, who looked to divine inspiration to
predict the future or to interpret the present, the Etruscans used an inductive method,
transmitted orally in families or from teacher to student, as well as through books
358 Marie-Laurence Haack
and written artifacts like bronze livers.1 Prophetic and divinatory knowledge of the
Etruscans is based on principles tested, explained and enriched by the experience of
soothsayers (Cic. Div. 2.50), who interpreted them according to the ideas of their time.2
Every strange phenomenon was therefore noted, analyzed and interpreted according
to a complex casuistry, with special cases and exceptions.
– book knowledge
The use of books of divination was so special in the eyes of the Romans that they con-
sidered books by Roman scholars of Etruscan origin (for example, Tarquitius Priscus
and Aulus Caecina), which were translated into Latin in the first century BCE, to be
purely Etruscan. For the Romans, they were Etruscorum libri, Etrusca scripta, chartae
Etruscae, Tuscorum litterae, Tusci libelli. The consultation of these books goes back
to the beginning of the legendary Etruscan divination. The first books specifically
devoted to prophecy and divination are said to have been dictated by Tages.3 This
child in the form of an old man is said to have been plowed out of a furrow by a
farmer, and to have revealed the principles of Etruscan divination to the leaders of the
twelve Etruscan cities (Cic. Div. 2.50; Lydus ost. 1.3). It is possible that possessing or
writing books on haruspicy was the prerogative of noble Etruscan families. One of the
sarcophagi from the tomb of the Pulena family of Tarquinia, dated to about 270 BCE,
bears on its cover an image of the deceased, holding an open scroll, on which we find
the genealogy of Laris Pulena, the deceased author of a book on haruspicy.4
– The books
According to Cicero (Div. 1.72), these principles were divided into three types of books,
haruspicy books (libri haruspicini), books on lightning (libri fulgurales) and ritual
books (libri rituales). The first type was dedicated to haruspicy, the study of the liver
of sacrificial victims. The Etruscans considered the liver, a large and bloody organ, as
the center of life and observed it during the bloody sacrifice of an animal offered to
the gods. In Roman times, however, soothsayers were also interested in other internal
organs, the exta such as the heart, spleen, kidneys and lungs. There was also knowl-
edge of this in Mesopotamia and Greece (see chapter 20 Rollinger), but Etruscan
knowledge was so developed and so specific that the Roman lexicographers derived
the Latin word for soothsayer, haruspex, from hariuga, a word which meant “victim;”
in Etruscan, several words probably designated haruspices according to their spe-
1 Van der Meer 1997.

2 Weinstock 1950.
3 Wood 1980.
4 Heurgon 1957.

21 Prophecy and divination 359
cialty: netsvis, trutnvt and perhaps frontac in a bilingual inscription of Pesaro (ET
Um 1.7).
The soothsayers were interested in the colors, shapes, sizes and locations of
these exta. Any abnormality was the subject of special attention, especially when the
liver was affected. On this liver, it was necessary to distinguish pars familiaris, whose
meaning affected the observer or the sponsor of the extispicy and pars hostilis, which
concerned the fate of their enemies. The soothsayers looked at the familiar crack and
the hostile crack that divide the liver into two distinct lobes, and the protruding ends
of the liver, especially the “head” (caput iecoris) of the liver, a bulge located at the end
of the right lobe. The final opinion of the prophet look into account all of his observa-
tions.
The second type of book (libri fulgurales) applied to the study of lightning and
thunder, and may have been revealed by a nymph named Vegoia (Serv. Dan. 6.72).
The Etruscans believed that the gods sent the lightning bolts (manubiae) and gave
them different appearances depending on their state of mind with respect to men. It
was, therefore, necessary to pay attention to the color, noises and lightning effects
to determine their significance for men. Tinia’s casks, the Etruscan Zeus or Jupiter,
would have been blood red, but those of eight other gods were light or dark. The light-
ning was interpreted differently depending on whether it was diurnal or nocturnal.
Lightning that struck a public place involved the whole community and was therefore
called “royal lightning.” The soothsayers also wanted to know if lightning pierced,
burst or burned an object. Above all they tried to determine from what part of the sky
the lightning came and what route it had traveled. The sky was divided by the four
cardinal points, each of which was further subdivided into four. The sixteen “boxes”
of the sky were supposedly the houses of the gods. Identifying where the lightning
came from was therefore equal to identifying the god who sent it. When lightning
came from regions of the sky from north to east represented the greatest happiness
(Plin. HN 2.143), while the regions of the sky from west to north represented the great-
est misfortune (Plin. HN 2.143).
The lightning bolts were further ranked according to their message: the “fateful”
bolts were related to destiny and therefore carried a lesson about the future; the “raw”
bolts had no meaning; the “vain” bolts that had not been well observed could not
provide information and were therefore left out. Fateful bolts were further divided into
“advisors,” which provided warning about present or future events and “authorities,”
which indicated whether a past action was good or bad (Sen. Q Nat. 2.39.1). Other dis-
tinctions introduced differences between “ostentatious” bolts that expressed a threat,
“admonitory” bolts that warned of danger, and “postulatory” bolts through which the
gods demanded a sacrifice or a ceremony (Sen. Q Nat. 2.49). The divine message also
had a variable duration.
A “perpetual” bolt was significant for the duration of a man’s life; a “finite” bolt
for a day and a “future” bolt’s effect could take place ten years later for an individ-
ual and thirty years later for a city (Sen. Q nat. 2.47). Men could then act upon the

bolts, especially when they carried fatal messages. Thus they could bury or expiate
them. The Roman poet Lucan in his Pharsalia (1.606–608) shows a soothsayer named
Arruns expiating bolts by purifying the place struck by lightning. While praying, the
seer buries the remains of lightning in a pit surrounded by an enclosure (bidental)
and he devotes it by sacrificing a sheep to the god who sent the lightning.
Finally, the Etruscans had a reputation for being capable of provoking lightning
(Plin. HN 2.140), which may be expressed in Latin by the designation of certain sooth-
sayers as fulguriatores (ET Um 1.7). This “weapon” was used from the earliest times to
the end of antiquity. The Etruscan king Porsenna used it to liberate the city of Volsi-
nii from the monster Olta (Plin. HN 2.140), in 408 C.E. the Etruscans also boasted of
having repelled the attack of the troops of Alaric against the city of Narni in Umbria
(Zos. 6.41.1–3).
The third type of book brought together a wider variety of subjects than indicated
by their titles (books of rites, libri rituales), since there were books on wonders (osten-
taria), books of fate (libri fatales) and books of Acheron (libri Acheruntici). Books
on wonders treated all the phenomena by which the gods could send signs to men
(ostenta); the interpretation of these phenomena was considered an Etruscan spe-
cialty, as we can see in the words of Cicero (Leg. 2.21), ‘prodigies and portents shall
be referred to the Etruscan soothsayers’ 5. They ranked among the ostenta any unex-
pected event or strange phenomenon occurring in plants, animals and the sky.6 Spe-
cific books were devoted to wondrous signs occurring to plants (ostentaria arboraria):
there were distinctions between the species of auspicious or ominous trees (arbores
infelices). The wood of the latter was used to burn the monstra, while the auspicious
trees provided signs for future leaders on several occasions: a tree that had grown
suddenly, at the time of the birth of Vespasian, was interpreted as a favorable sign
(Suet. Vesp. 5.2). Animals were also receptacles for the feelings of gods towards men.
The presence, the transformation or the birth of an animal acquired the status of a
sign. A swarm of bees in a public place was an ominous sign (Cic. Har. Resp. 25; Liv.
27.23.2–4; Plin. HN 11.55; Jul. Obs. 71). A lamb born with purple fleece was considered a
very positive omen, or even a royal omen (Macrob. Sat. 3.7.2; Serv. Ecl. 4.4). Signs from
the heavens and from the earth were also carriers of divine messages. The passage of
a comet, the earthquakes studied by Tages in a treaty, and volcanic eruptions were
evidently feared (Amm. Marc. 25.2.7; Serv. Dan. 4.166; Jul. Obs. 29). The Etruscans were
masters of observing the flight of birds. Tanaquil, the wife of Tarquin the Elder, was
perfectly able to interpret an episode of the arrival of Tarquin the Elder in Rome. The
fact that an eagle removed Tarquin’s cap and put it back on his head meant, according
to her interpretation, that Tarquin was to rule over Rome (Livy 1.34.9).
5 Transl. Clinton Walker Keyes; Loeb ed., 1988.

6 Mac Bain 1982.

A scene from the tomb of François in Vulci, dating to about 330 BCE, in which Vel
Saties observes a woodpecker that a child named Arnza is about to throw, is perhaps
a scene of divination.7 In Roman times, divination trough the flight of birds appears
to have been reserved primarily for augurs. The flooding of rivers and lakes, like Lake
Alban in 396, which foreshadowed the fall of Veii (Livy 5.15), also held significance for
men. The births of abnormal children or animals were seen as the anger of the gods.
Hermaphrodites were often banished, burned or drowned (Livy 27.37.6; Livy 31.12.6;
Jul. Obs. 3; Jul. Obs. 22). Attention to divine signs could reach extreme cases in Rome:
cattle that had allegedly begun to talk were fed at the expense of the state for the rest
of their lives.
The books of fate offered reflections on the lifespans of individuals and communi-
ties. It was said that the lives of individuals were organized in a cycle of twelve “weeks
of years,” each of seven years, and that people and cities had a destiny counted in
centuries. The problem is that these centuries were called “natural:” they had no
fixed term, but they were based on the record longevity of the oldest member of the
community since the city or the people was founded (Censorinus, DN, 14 and 17).
An Etruscan’s lifespan allegedly lasted ten centuries, but in some centuries it lasted
119 or 123 years; changes in centuries were marked by prodigies, such as comets or
the sound of trumpets (Plut. Sull. 7; Serv. Dan. 8.526; Serv. Ecl. 9.46). Time elapsed
neither in a linear fashion nor in regular rhythm; on the contrary, the Etruscans seem
to have had a cyclical conception of time in which the present reproduced the past. An
Etruscan needed to know the past to know the future. If we follow the principle that
history repeats itself, every seer must have been a historian. The frescoes of the Tomb
Francois in Vulci show the same episode of history repeating itself three times, in the
forms of the Trojan War, the war of Vulcians against Rome in the sixth century, and
the victory of Vel Saties in the fourth century.8
Latin translations of Etruscan books also pass almost do not mention the use
of small discs, lots or strips of lead to interpret the will of the gods. These objects
(sortes), which archaeologists found in several sites of Etruria (Punta della Vipera,
Arezzo, Chiusi, Viterbo, and Tarquinia) and date to between the fifth and second cen-
turies, were mostly perforated and marked with the names of gods (Śuri in Chiusi and
Viterbo; Aritimi in Tarquinia). Funeral urns show young people emerging from a vase
in the presence of a soothsayer. A bucchero box of the mid sixth century engraved
with a dedication to Minerva discovered in the Portonaccio sanctuary at Veii, was
probably a reproduction of the lost wooden box from which these spells were drawn.9
It is unclear under what circumstances and how accurately the spells were drawn and
interpreted. Livy indicates only that at Caere, in 218, the lots had shrunk (attenuatas).
7 Andreae 2004.
8 Coarelli 1983.
9 Bagnasco Gianni 2001, 204, fig. 6

B) Prophetic art
Although less developed than in the Greek world, prophecy had its place in Etru-
ria.10 Plutarch (Plut. Rom. 2.4) mentions an oracle of Tethys Tarchétios, king of Alba
Longa, who consulted after seeing a phallus appear in the flames of his hearth. A
mirror and Hellenistic urns show a prophet named Cacu playing the lyre to Artile,
a young man who transcribed his words on a diptych. Cacu, according to Roman
legend, was imprisoned by Tarchon. Moreover, on some urns, Cacu is attacked by
the two brothers of the Vibenna famil.11 These struggles appear to reflect conflicting
influences between cities and their large families, jealous of the sacred books they
thought would guarantee their legitimacy. The Greek figure of Orpheus also found
echoes in Etruria. A series of Etruscan images shows the oracular head of Orpheus,
of a supernatural size, housed in a hole or in a well, which seems to be dictating to
a scribe. On several Etruscan mirrors of the fourth and third centuries BCE, a group
of deities appears around Orpheus and the young scribe, whose name, Aliunea, was
registered once. The head of Orpheus is lying on the ground, singing. The oracular
head and the scribe leaning over it are on a series of gems and amulets dated to the
third century CE.12
2 The gods
The Etruscans’ attention to divine signs can be explained by their divine conception
of the universe, in which what happens in the cosmos depends on the will of the
gods and not on chance or mechanical laws. Control of divination was inseparable
from knowledge. In a world in which fate escapes them, men try to get in touch with
the gods to satisfy and appease them and to understand their moods. A project or a
human action needed to be approved by the gods to be successful. Before undertak-
ing anything important, therefore, men wanted to ensure the benevolence of the gods
upon them. The need to know the future was therefore primarily the need to know the
state of mind of the gods towards men.
The sacrifice that led to the extispicina was thus “consultatorium” (Macrob.
Sat. 3.5.1; Serv. Dan. 4.56), as it was to consult the gods through exta of cattle or sheep.
The worshippers offered the gods the animal’s life (exta) and the gods sent the men
signs on these exta. The attention given to exta was based on the idea that the exta,
the center of the animal’s life, reflected, reproduced and summarized the entire uni-
10 De Grummond 2006b, 27–33.

11 De Grummond 2006a, 27–29, 174–175.
12 De Grummond 2006a, 32–33.

verse. In this sense we can say that the liver is a microcosm of the macrocosm. The
names of the gods inscribed on the bronze model of a liver found at Piacenza inform us
about the Etruscan pantheon. Seneca sums up this Etruscan particularity: “This is the
difference between us and the Etruscans, who have consummate skill in interpreting
lightning: we think that because clouds collide lightning is emitted; they believe that
clouds collide in order that lightning may be emitted. Since they attribute everything
to divine agency they are of the opinion that things do not reveal the future because
they have occurred, but that they occur because they are meant to reveal the future”.13
The Etruscans also appealed to certain gods to deify the souls of the deceased with
a bloody sacrifice of another kind, of unknown sequence, what the Romans called ritu
humano “in a human ritual” (Gell. 5.12.12). Rather than make a human sacrifice, it
meant the bloody sacrifice of an animal in exchange for a dead man. The blood of the
animal, which represented the person’s soul (anima), was offered in exchange for a
place among the gods for the deceased, and the deceased then became a “god made
of a soul,” according to a doctrine of the dii animales (Macrob. Sat. 3.5.1).
3 The Men
– gender
Those who worked to predict the future or to interpret it were primarily men, which
does not mean that women had no skills in divination and prophecy. As we have said,
Tanaquil, the wife of Tarquin the Elder, interpreted the removal and return of Tar-
quin’s cap by an eagle as a sign. In the Hellenistic period, women of Vulci may have
held the priesthood (hatrencu) in a college. A woman depicted on a sarcophagus from
the third century BCE (now at the British Museum) has the attributes of a bacchante or
a priestess of Bacchus or Fufluns, the Etruscan Bacchus, but we do not know if these
priestesses had the skills of divination and prophecy.14 Finally, among the Etruscan
prophets, Vegoia, whose books on lightning (libri Vegoici) were kept in the temple of
Apollo in Rome, is seen as a nymph in the Latin texts and as the author of a prophecy
given to Arruns Veltymnus on the limitation of land and the land registry.15
– dress and instruments

On mirrors, statuettes and urns, the consultations of Etruscan diviners are represented
in the same way.16 The haruspices wear a special hat (pilos) and a long mantle. The
13 Transl. Th. H. Corcoran, Loeb ed., 1971.

14 Nielsen 1990.
15 De Grummond 2006a, 29–30, 41–42.
16 Maggiani 1989; Roncalli 2010.

hat is different depending on time and place. It is tall and cone-shaped on a fourth
century bronze statuette (now in the Vatican Museums), and on a mirror from Tusca-
nia dating to the beginning of the third century. It appears as a simple hat with a peak
on the top on coins from Volsinii dating to the third century, and on bronze statuettes
now in Göttingen dating to the late third and second centuries, on which the hat has
a large strip in the base and seems to be placed on top of another hat. Finally, on the
ash urn of Arth Remzna dating to the late third century, the hat is a thick roll over
the forehead and ears. The mantle, too, is different from one picture to another. It is
generally very thick and probably made of wool, with a rough fringe all along its edges
and fastened with a large fibula. It probably retains the features of an Archaic shep-
herd. On the mirrors, the haruspices have their left leg bent and their left foot resting
on a rock or a field enhancement. The sacrificial knife is visible on some coins from
Volsinii dating from the third century.
– Social origin
At the time of independent Etruria, haruspicy seems to have been taught in the family,
from father to son, in aristocratic families. Haruspicy was seen as the prerogative of
noble Etruscans by Tacitus (Tac. Ann. 11.15; see too Censorinus, DN 4.13; Comm. Bern.
Luc. 1.636) and according to Cicero (Fam. 6.6.3), Aulus Caecina obtained his knowledge
in the field of divination from his father, a noble Tuscan from Volterra. A few cases of
haruspices of noble birth are known from archaeological sources (Laris Pulena in ET
Ta 1.17 and Arnth Alitle Pumpus in ET Ar 4.4). From the late third century, however,
most representations of Etruscan soothsayers are anonymous and texts show that at
the time, haruspices of humble origins provided consultations to stewards in agricul-
tural areas (Cato Agr. 5.4) and humble folk from the disreputable neighborhoods of
Rome (Plaut. Poen. 463 ff., 746 ff; Plaut. Curc. 483 ff.).
In the Roman world diviners of diverse origins and status called themselves
soothsayers.17 Until the early first century, most of the soothsayers were Etruscan and
offered consultations to Etruscan customers, but literary sources testify to the early
use in the Roman senate and in the army. In the third century, Etruscan soothsay-
ers were called for when the Roman soothsayers were unable to explain a natural
phenomenon. One example was when lightning struck the statue of Horatius Cocles
between 278 and 250 BCE, – C. according to Gell. 5.5.1; another example is the birth of
a hermaphrodite in 207 BCE, according to Livy 27.37.6. Several cases of Etruscan sooth-
sayers present in the Roman armies are also known before Etruria became completely
Roman. A soothsayer followed two consuls in 340 to interpret the entrails of a victim
before a decisive battle (Livy 9.9.1). Fabius Maximus was warned of danger by harus-
pices in 215 (Livy 23.36.10) and in 209 (Livy 27.16.15); Tiberius Gracchus used harus-
17 Haack 2003; 2006.

pices in 212 and the consul Marcellus was alerted of danger by soothsayers in 208. It
seems that Roman institutions had feared that the gradual Romanization of the terri-
tory led to the decline of Etruscan divination for their descendants. At the end of the
third century, perhaps a senatusconsultus decided that a certain number of Etruscan
children would be selected to receive instruction in haruspicy (Cic. Leg. 2.21; Div. 1.92).
At the same time there were official soothsayers at the service of Roman, Italian
and provincial institutions, and private soothsayers gave private consultations to
wealthy aristocrats as well as to the very poor. The official soothsayers were strictly
hierarchical: from the late first century the top soothsayers were from “the order of
60” (ex ordine LX) and were of equestrian rank. Their headquarters were in Rome and
their members were chosen from among the members of large families of Etruscan
origin until the middle of the first century CE. The order, which had a box (arca),
was led by a president (magister publicus in CIL VI 2161; haruspex maximus in CIL
VI 1964 and 1965) who could have then become special adviser to the emperor (Ster-
tinius Maximus Eutyches: BMusInscr III, 540; ILS 8833; C. Umbricius Melior: AE,
1930 52; Suet. Galb. 19.1; Plut. Galb. 24.4–5; Plin. HN 10.19). The order, however, was
apparently intended to assist the Senate in case of prodigies (Phlegon, Mir. frg 25).
In 47 CE, in order to counter the development of foreign superstitions, the Emperor
Claudius reportedly proposed to the Senate a transformation of the order in college
like the college of pontiffs or flamines (Tac. Ann. 11.15). However, the attempt appears
to have been in vain since no college of soothsayers is later attested, while there was
a renewed interest in haruspicy during the reign of the Severi and while the impe-
rial haruspicy became a paid function (ducenarius). In the provinces, the soothsay-
ers of governors had different statutes, as they advised the governors of senatorial
or equestrian provinces. The soothsayers of senatorial provinces were of equestrian
level, while haruspices of governors of provincial provinces were non-commissioned
officers, possibly former haruspices of legions whose functions appeared under the
Severi and who were promoted for their expertise. The presence of official haruspices
was also required in the municipalities and provinces and colonies of Italy.
Soothsayers are mentioned in the law of Urso (CIL, II, 5439, § 62, l. 24–32), a Betic
colony, in section 62 among the apparitors of the duoviri and those of the aediles,
where the remuneration of the haruspices was low. On the inscriptions, the soothsay-
ers of the municipalities and colonies merely mentioned their title “haruspex publi-
cus” or called themselves haruspices of their city. In addition to this official divination
a private haruspicy was developed with very different practices and statutes. Most
private haruspices were frowned upon by the writers of Roman times. Cato the Elder
(Agr. 5.4) forbade his steward to use “a soothsayer, an augur, a soothsayer (hariolus)
or a Chaldean” for financial reasons and policy reasons, too, to prevent any ferment
of revolt in the familia. In fact, private haruspicy was extremely popular (Cic. Div.
2.9; 2.51; 2.149; Nat. D. 1.71), but suffered from disrepute because its practices were
regarded like those of astrologers, who were expelled on numerous occasions by the
Roman authorities (for example, in 215 BCE: Liv. 25.1; in 139 BCE: Val. Max. 1.3.3; in

33 BCE: Dio Cass. 49.43; in 16 CE: Tac. Ann. 2.32). Consultations by private soothsay-
ers were strictly regulated. Augustus (Dio Cass. 56.25.5) and Tiberius (Suet. Tib. 63.1)
prohibited them from answering questions on the health of the prince, and the harus-
pex Larginus Proculus was sentenced to death by Domitian (Suet. Dom. 16; Dio Cass.
67.16.2) for predicting the day of the emperor’s death. However, when confined to
private matters, soothsayers were accused of quackery (Plin. HN 2.24; Juv. 6.396–397;
585–587; Plin., Ep. 2.20.3–5).
Official and private haruspicy declined in the fourth century CE with the intro-
duction of anti-pagan laws.18 On February 1, 319 (Cod. Theod. 9.16.1), private harus-
picy was prohibited; on May 15, 319 (Cod. Theod. 9.16.2), the ban was extended to
all haruspices regardless of their status, then to customers (Cod. Theod., 9.16.4). The
haruspices Amantius and Campensis were sentenced to death under the laws of Con-
stantine and Constantius II. Haruspicy was then associated with opposition to the
senate. In 381 and 385, two edicts (Cod. Theod. 16.10.7; 16.10.9) condemned those who
performed sacrifices for divination, in November 392, Theodosius prohibited all sac-
rifices, and spirantia exta consultations regarding the lives of others were prohibited.
References
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exhibition catalogue. Munich: Hirmer.
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all’età moderna, edited by F. Cordano and C. Grottanelli, 197–220. Milan: ET.
Briquel, D. 1997. Chrétiens et haruspices. La religion étrusque, dernier rempart du paganisme
romain. Paris: Presses de l’École normale supérieure.
Coarelli, F. 1983. “Le pitture della tomba François a Vulci: una proposta di lettura.” DialArch, s. III,
2:43–69.
De Grummond, N.T. 2006a. Etruscan Myth, sacred History and Legend. Philadelphia: University of
Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology.
—. 2006b. “Prophets and Priests.” In The Religion of the Etruscans, edited by N. T. De Grummond
and E. Simon, 27–44. Austin: University of Texas Press.
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II. Issues
Technique and technology

Patrice Pomey
22 Ships and Shipping
Abstract: History attributes to the Etruscans a powerful maritime presence that testifies to their naval
traditions. While the texts, unlike the iconography, provide little in the way of technical precision, his-
toriography attributes several inventions to them, including the ram, and archaeology has confirmed,
through the evidence of shipwrecks, their activity within maritime trade.
The most ancient evidence is provided by Villanovian boat models from the 9th and 8th centu-
ries BCE whose characteristics appear original and show that the origins of Etruscan boats reach far
back into the past. This originality is confirmed by documents, graffiti or vase paintings, from the 7th
and 6th centuries wherein the Etruscan ship often appears as a mixed propulsion craft with a hull that
might be equipped with an “added” ram, following the invention of Pisaeus Tyrrheni (Pliny, HN 7.209).
Sometimes it is a sail-powered merchant ship with a powerful cutwater, sometimes it is a warship with
a rounded hull and a high set ram.
As well as these typically Etruscan ships, towards the end of the 6th century BCE other boats
appear whose characteristics correspond to Greek types: warships with a horizontal keel extending
into a ram (hydria of the Micali painter); merchant ships with a concave stempost and two-masted
rigging (Tomba della Nave).
Among the shipwrecks holding Etruscan goods, we should distinguish between those where
Etruscan products from the same region predominate (La Love, Grand Ribaud F) and those carrying a
varied cargo of Greek and Etruscan goods (Isola del Giglio, Bon Porté 1). While ships of the first cate-
gory testify to a direct trade and can reach a large size (approx. 1000 amphorae and 40 ton deadweight
for the Grand Ribaud F), the second correspond either to the emporia trade (Isola del Giglio), or to a
short distance redistribution trade undertaken by smaller craft (Bon Porté 1). As for naval architec-
ture, all these shipwrecks refer back to construction systems of Greek tradition corresponding to the
Archaic method of sewn boats of the 6th century BCE (Isola del Giglio, Bon Porté 1) or to an evolution-
ary phase that employed stitching and tenon-and-mortise joints at the end of the 6th and beginning of
the 5th centuries BCE (Grand Ribaud F). All of this is tells us very little about genuine Etruscan naval
construction, which we still cannot identify despite its originality.
Keywords: shipwreck, sewn boats, naval architecture, sea trade
An old maritime tradition

The existence of a maritime Etruria, even more powerful at sea than on land accord-
ing to Titus Livius (1.23.8), is nowadays generally accepted.1 This forceful seagoing
presence, as noted by ancient authors, and to which can be added a solid reputation
for piracy, is confirmed by historiography that recognizes in the Etruscans, through
the attribution of several notable inventions such as the ram and the naval trumpet,
I would like to extend my warmest thanks to Colin Clement for his work in translating this article.
1 Cristofani 1983; 1984; Gras 1985; Braudel 1998, 230–43; Briquel 1999, 83–104
372 Patrice Pomey
ingenuity in naval matters. This would imply a long and strong maritime tradition.2
On the other hand, archaeology, through the evidence of shipwrecks and the very
spread of Etruscan goods in foreign lands, has demonstrated the active participa-
tion of the Etruscans in commerce across the Tyrrhenian Sea.3 Such maritime activity
would suggest the existence of war- as well as merchant ships, and a variety of vessel
types. One must consider the nature of these ships that were instruments of Etruscan
maritime power, the carriers of their trade and the expressions of their naval know-
how.4
Ships
The origins
The texts, in the first instance, are not of much help in determining the vessels’ char-
acteristics and their nature is rarely specified.5 The iconography, on the other hand,
is more eloquent and gives evidence of diversity.6 The Villanovian models of boats
found in the tombs of Caere and Tarquinia are evidence of the great age of Etruscan
maritime traditions and their ancient indigenous roots. The oldest models are of little
craft, probably monoxylon, that were used locally. Other models dating to the ninth
and eighth centuries BCE represent more elaborate craft, the size of which is diffi-
cult to determine. At the prow—and sometimes at both extremities—several of these
feature an animal head resembling a duck (Fig. 22.1.a–b). This motif, somewhat rare,
is found in Urnfield culture sites of central Europe and also in the eastern Mediter-
ranean, notably on the boats of the Sea Peoples depicted on the temple of Ramses III
at Medinet Habu. Certain authors have made a connection between the Villanovians
and the Urnfield culture, and with the Tursha of the Sea Peoples, identified with
2 On piracy: Gras 1976; 1977; Giuffrida Ientile 1983; on inventions: Rebuffat 1977.
3 On wrecks: Höckmann 2001, 293–295; Long et al. 2002; on trade and distribution of goods: Morel
1981; Commercio etrusco arcaico 1985; Gras 1985; 2000a; Etruschi da Genova ad Ampurias 2006.
4 Among the relatively abundant bibliography on Etruscan shipping, see essentially: Basch 1987,
398–410; Bonino 1989; 1995; De Vries 1972; Hagy 1986, 221–250; Höckmann 2000; 2001; Jannot 1995;
Paglieri 1960; Pomey 2002a; 2006.
5 For example, we know nothing about the ships used during the battles of Alalia (Hdt. 1.166–167) or
Cumes (Diod. Sic. 11.51). For an analysis of all these texts, cf. Jannot 1995; see also Gras 2000b.
6 The references cited above in note 4 are essentially based upon iconography. We shall not consider
the well-known pyxide of Caere in the Louvre (D 150), representing a naval combat between a duck-
shaped ship and a fish-shaped ship, which has clearly been repainted, cf. Geppert and Gaultier
2000a, 2000b.

22 Ships and Shipping 373
Fig. 22.1a, b, c, d: Villanovian clay models of boats (9th – 8th c. BCE). (After Höckmann 2001,
figs. 3–6)
Tyrrhenians originally from Lydia (Hdt. 1.94)7. While one should be cautious about
such notions, these connections could nonetheless correspond to memories of very
distant origins. In this series, two craft deserve particular attention. The first, which
bears holes around the outside corresponding to oar ports, has at the base of the stem
and sternpost a protuberance that could represent a protruding keel (Fig. 22.1c). The
second also has a protruding keel that extends to the fore as a sort of cutwater and
to aft as a leeboard (Fig. 22.1d). In the two cases, the craft seem suitable for maritime
navigation and present original characteristics that distinguish Etruscan ships from
other ancient boats.8
Orientalizing: the apogee

The period of the seventh and sixth centuries BCE, which corresponds to the heyday
of the Etruscan navy, is rich in figurative representation of ships, either graffiti or
paintings, mostly on vases. One of the oldest representations of this period, dating
back to the beginning of the seventh century, is a graffito cut into a vase from Veii
(Fig. 22.1e). The ship has a symmetrical rounded hull and the extremities end in a
curling motif aft (the aphlaston) and an upward curving motif to the fore (akrosto-
7 Hagy 1986; Basch 1987, 401–404; Höckmann 2001.

8 One can see on the small craft of the Tomba della Caccia e Pesca at Tarquinia (end of 6th century
BCE) an inverted stempost with protruding keel and cutwater that are of the same tradition. (Colour
plates 22–23).

374 Patrice Pomey
Fig. 22.1e: Ship graffito on a vase from Veii (beginning 7th c. BCE).
(After Höckmann 2001, fig. 8)
lion). The ship has a mixed propulsion system, and is equipped with a central mast
ending in a double volute motif that suggests a sort of top. The mast bears a square
sail furled to the yard. The schematically represented rigging is made up of different
fittings (stays, shrouds, and braces). As well as this sail, four oars are represented on
the flank, while aft there are two quarter rudders, one on each side. To either end of
the hull there is a raised platform forming a poop deck and forecastle. But the most
curious element is the pointed extension beneath the bow of the ship, which has been
interpreted as a ram. The strangeness of this feature, which appears to have been
affixed to the hull, has often been noted and is considered to be an illustration of the
invention attributed to Pisaeus Tyrrheni by Pliny (HN 7.209) of a ram “added” to the
hull.9 The discovery of a bronze ram, today held in the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cam-
bridge, (Fig. 22.2) which is grooved such that it could be attached to the convex bow of
a ship, has made this invention appear perfectly credible.10 It was not the very idea of
the ram itself that the Etruscans invented but a very particular type of ram that was
so efficient that the Romans were still using this system in the first century BCE.11 It is
instructive to juxtapose this graffito with the procession of ships that feature on two
9 Hagy 1986; Basch 1987, 401–404; Jannot 1995.

10 Hagy 1986, Fig. 13; Basch 1987, Fig. 866.
11 L. Basch (1987, 407) remarks quite rightly that, according to Caesar (B Afr. 44.3), during the
Alexandrian wars, the Romans equipped actuariae, that is merchant ships of mixed propulsion, with
rams to make up for the lack of warships.

Fig. 22.1f: Detail of a boat from the procession of ships

on an Etrusco-Corinthian oenochoe (circa 700–675 BCE,
Museum of Art & Archaeology, University of Missouri).
(Drawing P. Pomey)
Fig. 22.2: Bronze ram (Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge). (After Basch 1987)
Etrusco-Corinthian vases from Tarquinia (beginning of the seventh century BCE)12

(Fig. 22.1f). Despite a certain clumsiness of the painter, common to both vases, who
is scarcely concerned with nautical exactitude,13 the ships are clearly similar and of
a type close to that of the graffito: the same rounded hull, the same rigging, and on
some the same rear platform set above the horizontal line suggesting the presence of a
deck. The front end of the hull, however, appears to be cleft and suggests the presence
of a ram similar to the previous one we have seen situated below the akrostolion. The
nature of these ships, with no indication of oar propulsion, is ambiguous. The clearly
rounded hull is that of a merchant vessel, but the ram is that of a warship. Because of
12 One is on the Museum of Art and Archaeology of the University of Missouri and the other on the
National Maritime Museum of Haifa. Cf. Biers and Humphreys 1977.
13 Certain ships seem to have a rudder both fore and aft, while on others there is no mast although
the sails are spread.

376 Patrice Pomey
Fig. 22.3a: Aristonothos krater (circa 675–650 BCE, Palazzo dei Conservatori, Rome).
Fig. 22.3b: Ivory pyxide from Chiusi. (Drawing P. Pomey)
the mixed propulsion system on the ship of the Veii graffito, one might think that the
ships were merchant galleys armed with rams.
It is most probably a pirate scene that we can see on the Aristonothos krater
(c. 675–650 BCE) from Caere (Fig. 22.3a). To the left, an oar-powered warship of Greek
type lying low in the water, equipped with a ram and bearing three warriors, attacks
a single-masted, round-hulled ship sitting high in the water with its flanks reinforced
by three wales that jut out from the stempost. The latter vessel, which we can see as
an Etruscan merchant ship, is defended by three warriors fighting from a raised deck
and by a fourth set in a top at the masthead.14 This ship is characterized by its curious
and powerful stempost that ends in a downward turning point. The shape and posi-
tion of this stempost means that it cannot be considered a ram, but perhaps is more
14 This mast has no sail. It is possible that it was removed for combat. It is also possible that the artist
did not paint the sail so that the combatants could be more easily seen

Fig. 22.3c: Warship graffito on a vase from Tarquinia (7th c. BCE).

easily seen as a large cutwater.15 It is in this fashion that we can interpret the ship that
figures on the ivory pyxide from Chiusi (end of the seventh century) (Fig. 22.3b). Given
the amphorae that it is carrying and that represent the cargo, and the lack of oars, we
can be certain that this is a merchant vessel. This shape of a well-rounded hull with
rising foreparts ending in a downward-turning point can be seen on several other rep-
resentations of ships.16 This type of stempost, as on the Aristonothos krater, should
be interpreted as a cutwater, rather than as a ram.
Thus, from the beginning of the seventh century BCE, Etruscan shipping already
presented a very particular silhouette that we will continue to see. It is characterized
by a well-rounded hull equipped either with a removable ram or a powerful cutwater.
By adopting the possibility of arming merchant galleys as warships, the Etruscans
had set themselves apart in terms of naval capability.17 On the other hand, a single
mast rigging bearing a square sail with the usual gear and a steering system using
two quarter rudders would seem on all points to be identical to other Mediterranean
shipping of the same period. Nevertheless, the frequent presence of a top high up on
the mast appears as an original feature.
The Etruscans seem, however, to have had true warships as is suggested by the
graffito cut into a seventh century BCE vase from Tarquinia (Fig. 22.3c), where a long-
hulled ship is equipped with a ram and is propelled by numerous oars.18 It differs in
15 Examples of such stemposts are plentiful, cf. p. ex. Basch 1987, figs. 296, 483 and 536.
16 For example, on a bucchero ship from Artimino (seventh century) and a plate from Tarquinia
(c. 580–560) (Höckmann 2001, figs. 7 and 14). One can compare this stempost with that of the terracotta
model from Amathus in the Metropolitan Museum, New York (Basch 1987, Fig. 536; Pomey 1997, 77).
17 Paglieri considers the mixed ship as being the characteristic of the Etrusco-Italic ship (Paglieri
1960).
18 It is possible to juxtapose this ship with those depicted on an amphora from Caere (Höckmann
2001, pl. 15, figs. 3 and 4).

378 Patrice Pomey
Fig. 22.3d: Warship on a vase from Vulci (beginning 6th c. BCE,

British Museum, H 230). (Drawing P. Pomey)
Fig. 22.3e: Warship on the “navarch’s” stele from Felsina (Bologna)

(end 5th c. BCE). (After Basch 1987)
its elongation from another type of warship represented on vases from Vulci (British
Museum, H 230) (Fig. 22.3d) and from Caere (Louvre Museum, D 151), both from the
beginning of the sixth century BCE. These ships are characterized by a rounded hull,
sitting high in the water, equipped with a high ram that fits on a convex stempost
according to the Etruscan system. Curiously, the figures in oarsman position are not
equipped with oars.19 It is the same type of ship that one finds in the fifth century on
19 The double lines featured on the hulls depicted on the vase from Caere are more likely to be the

what is known as the “navarch’s” stele from Felsina (Bologna) (Fig. 22.3e). Similar
to the Caere vase ships, the mast is down, resting upon trestles, and the faces of the
oarsmen are turned to the front. Once again we have most probably the same type of
warship with rounded hull and added ram, here turned downwards, that can be seen
predominately on urns from Volterra of the third and second centuries BCE, although
the type has become very clumsily generalized.20
The Greek influence

Alongside these typically Etruscan ships, towards the end of the sixth century BCE,
certain ships appear whose characteristics correspond to a Greek type of vessel. This
is the case of the bireme on the hydria of the Micali painter from Vulci (end of sixth
century, British Museum) (Fig. 22.4a). This ship features a horizontal keel with a ram
as an extension, above which an eye is marked, and a fighting platform set just rear of
the stempost.21 Here we have the characteristics of Greek ships of the period.22 Like-
wise, the large sailing vessel of the Tomba della Nave at Tarquinia (beginning of the
fifth century, Fig. 22.4b)23 has a hull that is altogether similar to that of the merchant
Fig. 22.4a: Bireme on the hydria of the Micali painter from Vulci. London, British Museum,
end 6th c. BCE. (After Höckmann 2001, fig. 21)
frames of the boats’ internal structure rather than oars which would normally extend beyond the hull
(Basch 1987, Fig. 869).
20 Höckmann 2001, figs. 30–58 and pl. 16–20.
21 Morrison and Williams 1968, 112 and pl. 22b; Basch 1987, Fig. 879; Höckmann 2001, Fig. 21.
22 Morrison and Williams 1968; Casson 1971, 43–76; Basch 1987, 202–247.
23 Moretti 1961; Casson 1971, Fig. 97; Bonghi Jovino 1986, 267–269, Fig. 257; Basch 1987, Fig. 880;
Höckmannn, 2001, Fig. 22.

380 Patrice Pomey
Fig. 22.4b: Ship from the Tomba della Nave, Tarquinia, beginning 5th c. BCE
(Drawing M. Rival, Centre Camille Jullian, CNRS, Aix-en-Provence)
Fig. 22.4c: Ship on an Attic cup. London, British Museum, B 436,

late 6th c. BCE. (Drawing M. Rival, Centre Camille Jullian, CNRS,
Aix-en-Provence)

ship depicted on an Attic cup (British Museum, B 436, late sixth century) (Fig. 22.4c).24
We have the same bulbous hull with concave stempost and an identical system of
wales and gunwale equipped with washboard or bulwarks. The similarities are rein-
forced by the location and the look of the steering gear and the presence, at the rear,
of a removable embarkation ladder. Only the two-mast rigging, underlining the large
size of the Tarquinia ship, points out the originality of this latter, an originality that
also lies in it being the oldest known representation of such a rigging system on a
merchant ship, though the system was to be become widespread.25 In these two cases,
the analogies with Greek boats are all the more striking because the Etruscan ships
show signs, as we have emphasized, of their own originality.26 These ships, like the
Greek style galley of the Aristonothos krater, could suggest a Greek presence in the
Tyrrhenian Sea. However, they could also signify, as we shall see, the use of Greek
style ships by the Etruscans for specific purposes.
Shipping
While shipwrecks and the cargo they carried are evidence of Etruscan participation
in traffic across the Tyrrhenian Sea, these are still rather few when set against the
volume of trade that can be deduced from the amounts of Etruscan material discov-
ered in land excavations.27 Moreover, shipwrecks that can provide us with information
regarding the vessels themselves, their type and their architecture, are even rarer, and
the picture that we get is blurred at best.28 First of all, we must distinguish between
those shipwrecks holding cargoes of relatively homogenous provenance, in which
Etruscan goods predominate, and those characterized by the diversity of product
origin. In the first category, evidence of a trade dedicated to the transport of Etruscan
goods, we can cite the wreck that lies between the Capo Enfola and Capo Vite on the
island of Elba (end of the seventh to the beginning of the sixth century BCE) with a
cargo of wine amphorae, bucchero nero and bronze basins that came from Vulci;29 the
24 Morrison and Williams 1968, 109 and pl. 19; Casson 1971, Fig. 81-82; Basch 1987, Fig. 461–464;
Pomey 1997a, 79; Höckmannn, 2001, Fig. 22a.
25 A war galley, represented on a fragment of a Corinthian krater from around 560 BCE, shows for the
first time a second mast set to the front of the vessel (Casson 1980). The ship of the Tomba della Nave
(Tomb of the Ship) at Tarquinia is, however, the first known merchant ship rigged with two masts.
26 Paglieri (1960, 231) considers the Tomba della Nave ship as a foreign vessel come from afar.
27 Cf. supra note 3.
28 Pomey 2002a; 2006.
29 Cibecchini 2006, 535–536. The deep-lying wreck has only been the object of limited lifting of
elements but the samples gathered clearly correspond to a homogenous load of Etruscan origin. On
the other hand, we shall not consider the presumed wrecks of Cala Galbugina of Isola del Giglio,
Isola dello Sparviero and of Secche della Meloria, all from end of the sixth to the beginning of the fifth

382 Patrice Pomey
Fig. 22.5: Plan of the Grand Ribaud F wreck. (Drawing M. Rival, Centre Camille Jullian, CNRS,
Aix-en-Provence)
La Love shipwreck at Cap d’Antibes (c. 560–550 BCE) with a cargo of wine amphorae
and bucchero nero from the region of Pyrgi-Caere;30 the Ecueil de Miet 3 wreck at the
entrance to the Bay of Marseilles (first half of the sixth century BCE) with a more or
less similar cargo;31 and the Grand Ribaud F wreck off the peninsula of Giens (Hyères,
c. 500–475 BCE), with its impressive cargo of wine amphorae, along with bronze
basins and discs and Etruscan ceramics from the Caere region.32 Of these shipwrecks,
only those of La Love and Grand Ribaud F allow us an idea of the size of their cargo.
The first, which has given us more than 180 amphorae, around eighty ceramic pieces
and three schist anchor stocks, would have been a medium-sized ship about fifteen
meters long.33 The second, however, with its cargo estimated at 1,000 amphorae lying
in five layers, was a ship of some twenty-five in length, perhaps more, and with a car-
rying capacity of forty tons (Fig. 22.5).34 These dimensions undeniably point to a very
large ship for its era that was adapted for a large-scale trade directly from one produc-
century BCE, since the sampling has not been sufficient to judge the homogeneity and importance
(Cibecchini 2006, 536–537).
30 Long and Sourisseau 2002, 25–31. Long et al. 2002 contains an updated bibliography of the wrecks
along the French coast of southern Gaul, which have been reconsidered.
31 Hesnard 2002, 25–31. The wreck has unfortunately been plundered and its true size is unknown. Its
cargo most probably exceeded 100 amphorae.
32 Long et al. 2006.
33 The small lead anchor stock found on the site probably does not belong to the wreck (Gianfrotta
and Pomey 1981, 305). The dimensions of the ship correspond with those of the Greek ship Jules-Verne
7 (end of the sixth century BCE) (Pomey 2003) and with Pointe Lequin 1A (Long and Sourisseau 2002b).
34 Long et al. 2006; Pomey 2006, 433.

tion region to a single destination. Within the category of wrecks bearing cargoes of
diverse origins, the Campese wreck of the Isola del Giglio (c. 590–580 BCE), with its
cargo of amphorae and of Etruscan and Greek ceramics, its load of copper, lead and
iron ingots, and its bronze Corinthian helmet, appears to be the perfect practitioner
of the emporia trade as exercised along the Etrurian coasts of the Tyrrhenian Sea by
a Greco-oriental naukleros.35 The ship, estimated to have been of a respectable size,
would have possessed sufficient navigational qualities to allow it trans-Mediterra-
nean maritime capabilities.36 On the other hand, the Bon Porté 1 wreck and that of
the most likely identical Dattier correspond to a coastal craft of some ten meters in
length.37 With a load of a few dozen Etruscan and Massalian amphorae, along with
some Greek examples, these wrecks look more likely to have been part of a redistribu-
tion trade, limited in distance and probably setting out from a Massalian trading post
to serve local needs.38
Naval architecture
As regards naval architecture, only the Giglio, Bon Porté 1 and Grand Ribaud F wrecks
have provided us with sufficiently significant elements of their hulls that we can rec-
ognize the construction systems. The hull fragments from the Giglio wreck display
exactly the same morphological and assembly characteristics as those of the Bon
Porté 1 wreck. Only the dimensions of the pieces are different, pointing out the differ-
ence in the tonnage of the two ships.39 The Bon Porté 1 has been identified as a sewn
boat, assembled entirely by stitching.40 Its construction system is characterized as
a shell first method using pre-assembly treenails to hold the strakes in place, then
with stitches running through tetrahedral recesses into holes for the plank assembly.
Before stitching, rolls of waterproof fabric were placed upon the seams and small
pegs were inserted to block the stitches and close up the holes. The frame timbers
have a narrow base, flared sides and rounded upper face to allow for a better tight-
ening of the lashings that hold them to the planks. The base is regularly notched to
allow the passage of the plank stitching. The interior of the hull was then covered
with a layer of pitch mixed with wax to ensure complete proofing and to protect the
35 Cristofani 1996. According to G. Colonna (2006, 658–662) the ship would be quite Etruscan and
not Greek.
36 The length of the ship can be estimated at around twenty-five meters from the sampling of hull
fragments that were recovered (Pomey 2008, 61).
37 Pomey 2002b.
38 Long and Sourisseau 2002c, d.
39 Bound 1985; 1991.
40 Pomey 1981.

384 Patrice Pomey
assembly ties. This system has since been observed on the Jules-Verne 9 wreck in
Marseilles (end of the sixth century BCE), where the exceptional state of preserva-
tion has led to the discovery of numerous lashings still in place on the planking and
framing.41 Going beyond the analogous construction systems, the two shipwrecks,
Bon Porté 1 and Jules-Verne 9, are identical in all their parts. The Jules-Verne 9 wreck
corresponds to a large coastal craft for local work, having notably been employed
in coral fishing, and could only have been built in a Massalian shipyard.42 And thus
the same must be true for the Bon Porté 1 vessel, which we have seen was involved
in short distance redistribution trade in a Massalian context. We should add that the
construction techniques employed in Marseilles throughout the sixth century BCE
reflect the techniques in use at Phocaea, whose colonizers had founded Massalia at
the beginning of that century. Indeed, these techniques would have been those of
Greek shipyards throughout the Aegean Sea.43 It is therefore not surprising to find
them again on the Giglio wreck, and that would confirm the Greco-oriental origin of
the naukleros. From this, the Giglio and Bon Porté 1 wrecks appear to be ships whose
construction methods spring from a similar construction tradition testified by several
other wrecks and rooted within a well-recognized Greek context,44 not Etruscan. The
case of the Grand Ribaud F is more complex, in that its impressive cargo of amphorae
from the Caere region, plus the bronze and ceramic objects, make this a wreck in
which Etruscan goods are clearly predominant, to the point that J.-P. Morel consid-
ers it to be “fondamentalement étrusque.”45 Once again, however, the vestiges of the
wreck itself point towards construction within the Greek tradition.46 Although this
wreck has only been the object of soundings, the elements of the hull that have been
studied are sufficiently representative of the structure and its construction method
to identify without any doubt the ship’s architectural system.47 Added to this, there
is an exceptional fragment of the starboard quarter rudder, which confirms the ico-
nography and clarifies its operation. All the elements of the hull are strictly identi-
cal, except for dimensions given the difference in size between the two ships, to the
equivalent elements from the Jules-Verne 7 wreck from Marseilles. Built in a Massalian
shipyard and abandoned at the end of the sixth century BCE, this craft belongs to the
41 Pomey 1999; 2001a; 2002c.

42 Pomey 2000; 2003.
43 The discovery of the Archaic Greek wreck of Pabuç Burnu, near Halicarnassus, has confirmed this
hypothesis (Polzer 2010).
44 On this naval construction tradition and its evolution, cf. Pomey 1997b; 2010; Kahanov and Pomey
2004. We shall not follow MacIntosh Turfa and Steinmayer 2001 who, disregarding the Greek wrecks
of Place Jules-Verne in Marseilles, consider the Giglio and Bon Porté 1 as Etruscan boats and that the
Greeks never knew the sewn assembly technique.
45 Morel 2006, 33.
46 Pomey 2006, 427–433.
47 Long et alii 2006, 470–482.

same family of sewn boats of Greek tradition as the Jules-Verne 9 wreck, and indeed
the Bon Porté 1.48 It represents, however, the first stage of a development character-
ized by the adoption of assembly by mortise-and-tenon joints for the planking and
nails for the frames, while stitching is only used at the extremities of the strakes and
for repairs.49 The analogy between the two ships is such, corresponding to a transition
phase of limited duration and bearing on very particular technical aspects, that the
conclusion is clear: the Grand Ribaud F ship was built according to Greek tradition.
This is not to deny its outfitting, which is certainly Etruscan and leads one to wonder,
along with J.-P. Morel,50 whether the Etruscans employed a Greek to work in one of
their shipyards, or if they might have bought, or even captured, a Greek boat accord-
ing to the practice attested by the Pech Maho lead.51 In this regard, we could compare
the Grand Ribaud F ship with that of the Tomba della Nave at Tarquinia, which we
have already noted as of Greek type. We have also noted that the Grand Ribaud F ship
was exceptionally large for its time and that its contemporary, the ship of the Tar-
quinia tomb, was likewise a large sized vessel with an innovatory two-mast rigging.
Thus, we might imagine that the Etruscans could count on Greek-built ships to fulfill
particular needs for heavy load shipping, as evidenced by the Grand Ribaud F wreck
and illustrated by the Tomba della Nave ship. And in this way, one might propose that
the introduction of tenon and mortise assembly into the tradition of sewn construc-
tion, as seen in the Jules-Verne 7 and Grand Ribaud F wrecks, had the precise result of
a ship construction that was more solid, of larger dimensions and greater tonnage.52
Original but mysterious ships

As we reach the end of this presentation, we come to a paradox. While the iconogra-
phy, confirmed by historiography, sets up an image of Etruscan shipping as original
and inventive, with vessels that are clearly distinguishable from those of other Medi-
terranean peoples, archaeology struggles to identify these very ships. To be honest,
we are at present incapable of characterizing Etruscan ships from the point of view of
naval architecture; that is, as regards their structure and their construction method. In
fact, certain authors have come to ask themselves whether there was not, in the end, a
perfect analogy between Greek naval construction and Etruscan naval construction.53
If such a hypothesis can be entertained because of the convergence of Mediterranean
48 Pomey 1999; 2001a; 2002b, c.

49 Pomey 1997b; 2010; Kahanov and Pomey 2004.
50 Morel 2006, 33.
51 Morel 2006, 33 and 41–2 with references to the study of the Pech Maho lead.
52 For the consequences of this evolution, see Pomey 2011.
53 Morel 2006, 33; Long et al. 2006, 486.

386 Patrice Pomey
naval construction techniques towards the generalized adoption of tenon and mortise
assembly, this can only be possible for a relatively late date since we must wait until
the fourth century BCE before this convergence is fully realized.54 On the other hand,
given the originality and antiquity of Etruscan maritime traditions and their Villano-
vian roots, it is unlikely that there was such a similarity in the Archaic era. Also, it is
unlikely that Greek and Etruscan construction techniques had been strictly identical
up until the transition phases which characterize Greek construction from the end of
the sixth and beginning of the fifth centuries BCE. Moreover, even if it is highly pos-
sible that the Etruscans in the beginning employed sewn assembly techniques, as
has been proposed,55 there is nothing for the moment to affirm, and it would in itself
be astonishing given the great variety of sewn assembly systems,56 that the Etruscan
technique was similar to the Greek technique, which for now still appears to be totally
original and without known equivalent. In the same way, we could also envisage,
along with Lucien Basch, that the Etruscans were introduced during the sixth century
BCE to the tenon and mortise assembly technique by the Carthaginians rather than
by the Greeks.57 Frankly, we do not know and all hypotheses remain open. It is all too
possible that the problem is more complex than we think. Contrary to a rather too
easily adopted viewpoint, we should not look at the problem of ancient shipping from
the angle of its permanence in space and time where, effectively, all ancient ships
would be equivalent, but rather we need to take into account geographic and cultural
differences and the evolution of naval architecture over time.58 It is highly probable
that Etruscan ship and naval construction evolved throughout the ages. Above all, we
must hope that new wrecks are discovered that will finally allow us to study without
any possible doubt actual Etruscan naval architecture.
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Laura M. Michetti
23 Harbors
Abstract: Etruscan cities facing the sea—Caere, Tarquinia, Vulci, Populonia, and Pisa—as well as
those located farther inland, such as Roselle, Vetulonia, and Volterra, rose, except for Populonia,
on raised mounds or spurs at a certain distance from the sea, with which they were connected by
watercourses. Along the coast of southern Etruria, harbors exploited the presence of lagoons and
other natural basins connected with the sea. Rivers mouths provided good shelter for ships and boats;
rivers also penetrate inland and thus are useful as navigation channels. Settlements at river mouths
developed from the seventh century BCE onward, following the main stream of urbanism. Trading
posts were thus located outside the biggest urban centers but dependent on them, so that a binomial
relationship was created between inland “powers” and specialized places on the coast, called “ports
of trade” or emporia. The concept of harbor is denoted in Greek sources with terms like limēn (harbor
environment), or hormos and epineion (anchorage, inner harbor). Technical literature in Latin of later
periods, especially portolans (pilot’s books including nautical maps) and Itineraria, distinguishes
between portus (an artificially protected area with installations easing ships’ access; cf. Vitr. 5.12.1),
and statio or positio navium (minor landing site) and refugium (small berthing place).
According to literary sources of the Roman period, along the Etruscan Tyrrhenian coast there
were twenty-eight landing sites at regular distances of around four to eight kilometers from Porto to
the mouth of the Fiora River. The problem of identifying the named sites is not completely solved,
because of coastal variation, the dearth of archaeological evidence, and frequent errors in the tran-
scription of distances. It is not simple to distinguish archaeologically between landing sites and
constructed harbors, although we know that ancient seafaring did not need specially built berths or
docks.
It seems certain that harbor settlements that already existed in the sixth century BCE, such as
Pyrgi, Castrum Novum, Gravisca, Regae, Orbetello, Talamone, Populonia, and Pisa, differed in impor-
tance from the sites at the mouths of rivers that were natural berthing places.
One may identify some recurrent elements. First of all, the choice of site, which was almost
always the mouth of a river or a lagoon in the absence of a bay. In comparison with other areas of the
ancient world, major Etruscan cities did not rise on the coast, although each had its own port(s) to
which it was connected by a highway. Another remarkable element is the frequent close relationship
between such epineia and extra-urban sanctuaries, both of which are direct expressions of the power
of the city with respect to the external world.
Keywords: Ports of trade, Coastal cities, Extra-urban sanctuaries, Thalassocracy
1 Environment and literary sources

Etruscan cities facing the sea—Caere, Tarquinia, Vulci, Populonia, and Pisa—as well
as those located farther inland, such as Roselle, Vetulonia, and Volterra, with the
exception of Populonia, rose on raised mounds or spurs at a certain distance from
the sea, with which they were connected by watercourses (Fig. 23.1). Along the coast
of southern Etruria, harbors exploited the presence of lagoons and other natural
basins connected with the sea (see chapter 69 Perkins). River mouths provided good
shelter for ships and boats; rivers also penetrate inland and thus are useful as navi-
392 Laura M. Michetti
Fig. 23.1: Main Etruscan harbors and related cities, 600–150 BCE

23 Harbors 393
gable waterways. Settlements on river mouths developed from the seventh century
BCE onward, following the main stream of urbanism. Trading posts were thus located
outside the largest urban centers but were dependent on them, so that a relation-
ship was created between inland “powers” and specialized places on the coast, called
“ports of trade” or emporia.1 The concept of “harbor” is expressed in Greek sources
with terms like limēn (“harbor environment”) or hormos and epineion (“anchorage,
inner harbor”). Technical literature in Latin of later periods, especially portolans
(pilot’s books including nautical maps) and Itineraria, distinguishes between portus
(an artificially protected area with installations easing ships’ access; cf. Vitr. 5.12.1),
statio or positio navium (minor landing site), and refugium (small berthing place).
The Etruscan Pilot’s Book by Pomponius Mela (De chorographia 2.65), which says
“Ultra Pyrgi, Minio, Castrum Novum, Graviscae, Cosa, Telamon, Populonia, Caecina,
Pisae Etrusca et loca et flumina; deinde Luna Ligurum,” reflects the situation in the
Late Republican period. The system of harbors depicted coincides with that described
by Strabo and with a Virgilian list of allies of Aeneas.
The Itinerarium Maritimum, another Pilot’s Book of official character ascribed to
the time of Caracalla (early third century CE, although according to some scholars it
dates only to the fifth–sixth century CE),2 provides a list of landing sites and distances
from one positio to the next, from the harbor of Rome (Portus Augusti) up to the mouth
of the Magra River, which marked the northern border of Etruria according to the
Augustan subdivision of Italy. Following these sources, we may state that along the
Etruscan coast there were twenty-eight landing sites at regular distances of around
four to eight kilometers from Porto to the mouth of the Fiora River.3 The problem of
identifying the sites mentioned in the Itinerarium is not completely solved because
of coastal variation, the dearth of archaeological evidence, and frequent errors in
the transcription of distances. It is in fact not simple to distinguish archaeologically
between landing sites and constructed harbors, although we know that ancient sea-
faring did not need specially built berths or docks.
It seems certain that harbor settlements that already existed in the sixth century,
such as Pyrgi, Castrum Novum, Gravisca, Regae, Orbetello, Talamone, Populonia,
and Pisa, took on greater importance than the sites at the mouths of rivers that were
natural berthing places.
1 Gras 1997.
2 Uggeri 1998.
3 Cristofani 1983, 33–35.

2 Southern Etruria
The absence of large inlets and gulfs along the Tyrrenian coast between the mouths
of the Tiber and the Argentario prompted the exploitation of channels, river mouths,
and lagoons as natural harbors. This was the situation of coastal cities of southern
Etruria when they created their own harbors, starting at the beginning of the sixth
century. The epineia (“seaports”), which were basically devoted to trade, were located
at a certain distance from the urban centers, in order to limit the influx of foreigners
to these centers.
Moreover, there was usually a strong relationship between these coastal centers
and a series of extra-urban sanctuaries. This relationship thoroughly illustrates the
territorial control exercised by major cities beginning at the end of the seventh century.
The most inland major Etruscan city, Veii, experienced a different situation.
Already in the ninth and eighth centuries it was the destination of Greek trade goods,
hinting at a strict and organized exchange with Greek and Near Eastern realms.
Control of salt production, perhaps exploited from a Maccarese pond,4 and the use of
the Tiber Valley as a trade route surely turned the attention of the city toward the sea
as early as the eighth century.5
The “gateway” to the Tyrrhenian Sea in terms of Greek seafaring is Caere, which,
being the closest city to the sea, was markedly distinguished by its international con-
tacts with both the Greek and the Phoenician-Punic world. It had two harbors, which
in the third century hosted the coloniae maritimae of Alsium, just south of the Palo
Castle, and Pyrgi, near the Castle of Santa Severa.
Although the coast of Civitavecchia and Santa Marinella was occupied in the
Early Iron Age, the area of Pyrgi6 apparently was not, even though its environmental
features (favorable landing site protected from wind and currents, with potable water
available) always exercised a strong attraction. The Etruscan name of this place was
obliterated by the Greek name, Pyrgoi, “towers,” which is connected with the ethni-
con Tyrsenoi/Tyrrhenoi, the Greek term for the Etruscans, that is, “the inhabitants
of towers” (tyrseis) (Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 1.30.2) (see chapter 3 Korenjak), an epithet
which is in tune with the notoriety of pirates lying in wait on the coasts. Pyrgi is also
called metropolis at a time when the Etruscans engaged in piracy (Serv. Aen. 10.184),
with possible reference to the mythic origin of the Etruscans from the Lydians, who
landed at Pyrgi and occupied Agylla/Caere to become the Etruscans (Verg. Aen. 8.479).
Around 700, Caere controlled the seaways toward the mining region and the Gulf of
Lion and imposed its thalassocracy. The monumental highway connecting Caere to
4 Gianfrotta 1988.
5 Camporeale 1997.
6 Gianfrotta 1988; Frau 1990; Colonna 2000, 255–58; Belelli Marchesini 2001; Enei 2008; Colonna
2010; Enei 2013, 314–322; Colonna 2010–13; Enei 2014a and 2014b.

23 Harbors 395
Pyrgi demonstrates the importance, from the economic and military point of view,
that Pyrgi held for Caere (like Piraeus for Athens). As for Alsium, the southern harbor,
Caere preferred Pyrgi, which connected more easily with the northwestern sea routes.
Pyrgi thus became the epineion of Caere, and also the seat of its navy (Diod. Sic. 15.14.3;
Strabo 5.2.8). It may have been connected with Alsium by a road along the seashore.
Pyrgi was destroyed during the events which in 273 led to the confiscation of half of
Caere’s territory by Rome. In the earliest phase of the harbor’s use, the existence of
monumental docking facilities cannot be demonstrated, due in part to the shifting of
the coastline. The likely use of the channel in the seventh and sixth centuries suggests
that the two surviving stone platforms were part of the earliest harbor. Around 600,
the epineion already consisted of two different harbor slips connected by channels:
beside the dock in the porto-canale, there may have been a second basin, located
near the shallow mound on the southeastern side of the sanctuary.7 The latter berth-
ing area was thus closely related to the monumental area of the sanctuary, enjoy-
ing an “epithalassic” location which had few comparisons in Etruria or the ancient
world. Giovanni Colonna has demonstrated that the location of the sanctuary primar-
ily related to the presence of a perennial spring of fresh water, an element that in
antiquity was deemed as important as advantageous docking facilities in determining
the attractiveness of a port.8 Water from the spring flowed into the ditch separating
the two areas of the sanctuary; this ditch may have been connected with the harbor
in the Etruscan period, as well as with some lagoons, as in the case of Gravisca, Tar-
quinia’s harbor.9 The residential quarter,10 with a regular layout, occupied the rocky
spur where the Roman city and the medieval castle were successively erected. It was
separated by a street running toward the sea, at right angles to the Caere-Pyrgi road;
this street also marked the limit of the southern harbor. Recent excavations by “La
Sapienza” University of Rome have brought to light structures and facilities connected
with both the sanctuary and the related berthing basins, illustrating the coexistence
of a multiplicity of functions (political, religious, and commercial).11
The site of Alsium,the second harbor of Caere to be sought in the coastal area
between the modern villages of Palo and San Nicola, has not yet been precisely iden-
tified.12 This center, according to the sources (Diod. Sic. 15.14; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom.
1.20, 3.58; Strabo 5.2.3, 5.2.8),13 was a Pelasgian foundation. It also had, like Pyrgi, a
Greek-derived name. Moreover, both San Nicola and Palo show paleo-environmental
settings favorable for landings, similar to those of Pyrgi. Aerial photos show in both
7 Enei 2008; Enei 2013, 326–330; Colonna 2010–13, 81–86; Enei 2014a and 2014b.
8 Colonna 2000.
9 Torelli 2006.
10 Belelli Marchesini 2001.
11 Baglione et al. 2010; Baglione and Belelli Marchesini 2015; Baglione and Michetti forthcoming.
12 Enei 2001, 52–53.
13 Briquel 1984, 317–18.

cases ancient ponds and lagoons just alongside the seashore, potential locations for
a harbor. Another docking facility has been suggested on the coast of Ladispoli, a site
directly connected with Caere by means of the Vaccina River and a system of ponds
and marshlands.14 This may be the caeretanus amnis mentioned by Pliny the Elder
(HN 3.51), a specific topographic reference point for seamen, named together with
Pyrgi and Castrum Novum in the territory of Caere. Castrum Novum, near modern
Capo Linaro, on the other hand, was one of the few harbors not related to coastal
lagoons. It lies in a bay protected by two rocky headlands protruding into the sea.
Berthing structures discovered here date to the end of the fifth–beginning of the
fourth century.15 In this spot a colonia maritima rose in 264, as did one in Fregenae
(245), though for the latter there is no evidence for berthing facilities dating to the
Etruscan period.
In the Late Iron Age, the existence of simple landing sites may be surmised for
Tarquinia as well, exploiting coastal lagoons.16 Tarquinia’s control over small docking
and berthing sites seems to be indicated by a number of settlements and necropolises
scattered along the coast. For the Orientalizing period we do not know the location of
Tarquinia’s harbor, which might have used the mouth of the Marta River, or, more to
the south, the salt pools. The positiones of the Itinerarium maritimum (Algae, Rapin-
ium, Gravisca, and Martanum) most likely correspond to landing sites of the Etruscan
period. Martanum, at the mouth of the Marta, was a docking facility controlled by an
ancient settlement. The development of Gravisca beginning at the end of the seventh
century is emblematic of the power of the main city, which may have been connected
with the harbor by a straight road. Gravisca, like Pyrgi, also exhibits a regular dwell-
ing system and a direct relationship between the harbor and the sanctuary. Alongside
an outer berthing facility, corresponding to the modern-day “porto Clementino” (after
Pope Clement XII), the main harbor was probably articulated in a series of basins,
connected by channels to the sea. The origin of this landing site seems to go back to
the early development of the cult of Aphrodite and Hera based on its freshwater wells,
greatly sought after by seamen, and related metal-smelting activities. The coexistence
of Greeks and Etruscans was made possible here by the “emporic” nature of the site:17
it might be surmised that the Greeks enjoyed a sort of right of asylum under the protec-
tion of the sanctuary. Here too, the Roman confiscation of the coast was the act that
preceded the foundation of a colonia maritima in 181.
The other great maritime city of southern Etruria, Vulci, located on a bend of
the Fiora, a broad, navigable river, directly controlled a riverine dock and possibly
also had a harbor at the mouth of the river itself, around ten kilometers from the city.
14 Enei 2001.
15 Frau 1990.
16 Cataldi Dini 2010, 179.
17 Gras 1997, 161–63.

23 Harbors 397
Vulci was connected to the coast by a road joining the coast road; the coast road was
already of strategic importance for territorial control and was later partly replaced by
the Via Aurelia.18
The northernmost coastal settlement, possibly connected with a docking facility
located at the mouth of the Chiarone River, was Pescia Romana, the oldest of Vulci’s
emporia, which as early as the eighth century opened to Greek-Euboean trade. Later,
at Montalto di Castro (modern Le Murelle), the landing site of Regae (Regisvilla)
was activated. It became the most important harbor of Vulci, again reproducing the
same city-epineion system seen at Caere-Pyrgi and Tarquinia-Gravisca. Strabo (5.2.8)
ascribes its foundation to Maleos, a mythic Pelasgian king. In the sea, the remains
of a massive barbican protecting the harbor are still preserved. In the sixth century,
Vulci’s harbor became a privileged trading terminal, while the inhabited area devel-
oped inside a rectangular precinct, which may have descended from a pre-established
urban project.
The region north of Vulci, which received the commerce destined for the Albegna
River Valley, took advantage of the important natural harbors of Orbetello and Tala-
mone.19 Located on the inner shore of a coastal lagoon connected to the sea, the site
of Orbetello developed beginning at the end of the eighth century. With the founda-
tion of the Roman colony of Cosa (in 273), which inherited the role of the Etruscan
site, the harbor was provided with impressive structural installations. To the north
of the Argentario promontory one may surmise a landing site in the mouth of the
Albegna River, a hypothesis which is corroborated by the flourishing during the Ori-
entalizing period of the site of Marsiliana. The harbor of Talamone, on the other hand,
began its main development in the sixth century, when in the modern-day locality
of Bengodi, a temple was erected, connected to a maritime settlement (the currently
available archaeological data refer exclusively to the Roman phase).20 South of the
harbor, the settlement of Fonteblanda, on a strictly rectangular grid, was not only a
berthing station for Tyrrhenian trade, but also the access to the sea for the settlement
system of the lower Albegna Valley, especially for the site of Doganella, with which it
was connected by a road.
The importance of Vulci’s mediation through the harbors under its control might
explain the great flow of Attic pottery of the highest quality at a very early period,
which made Chiusi one of the outstanding centers of Etruria for this kind of import
(exemplified by the well-known “vase François”). This flow also involved the Val di
Chiana as far as Cortona, and it would be difficult to explain it otherwise in compari-
18 Sgubini Moretti 1993, 116–19; 2010, 163–64.

19 Ciampoltrini and Rendini 2012.
20 Ciampoltrini and Rendini 2004.

son to the other coastal Etruscan cities that were directly open to trade and exchange
with Greek cities.21
3 Northern Etruria
Natural gulfs and coastal lagoons offer easy landings in northern Etruria as well.22
The basin of Lacus Prile (Grosseto province), a wide lagoon fed by the Ombrone River,
provided a series of landing sites especially at the foot of the hills on which the city of
Vetulonia was built. The city already had several berthing stations between the late
eighth and the early seventh centuries. The different ways of accessing the sea testify
to long-distance trade developed to exploit the resources of the Colline Metallifere.
Some necropolises, such as that of Val Beretta, may be attributed to a center that
rose near one of these docking stations located in the southern part of the Follonica
Gulf, probably in connection with one of the watercourses flowing through the Pian
di Rocca, an area connected with the mining region of Vetulonia.
East of Lacus Prile, the city of Roselle, which controlled trade on the Ombrone
River, surely was connected with the sea. Very recently it has been suggested that a
river port of Roman age (first century CE to end of the fifth) was located by Spolverino,
by the mouth of the Ombrone.23
The site was interpreted as part of the network of small berthing places along
the Tyrrhenian coast, at a point where river, sea, and land routes interconnected. A
Republican-period dating for the early establishment of this site is still under discus-
sion.
On the stretch of sea between the mining district of the island of Elba and Populo-
nia and the system of lagoons at the mouth of the Arno River, a major route to inland
Etruria and northern Italy, two dedicated port cities were established: Populonia and
Pisa, and farther inland, Volterra and Fiesole.
Populonia,with its highly favorable natural harbor, offered a protected refuge and
attracted seamen already during the Early Iron Age, when contacts with Corsica and
Sardinia are well documented.24 During the seventh century, Populonia was strictly
connected with littoral trade perhaps directly under the control of the cities of south-
ern Etruria. The city rose on a promontory overlooking the sea facing Elba, which
was included in its territory with the harbor of Porto Azzurro, on its southeastern
shore, which was its best dock for the transport of metallic minerals. The favorable
natural setting of its harbor, the propinquity of Elba, and the wide variety of minerals
21 Paribeni 1993; Cappuccini 2010, 96.

22 Pasquinucci 2004.
23 Cygielman et al. 2010.
24 Romualdi 2010.

23 Harbors 399
made Populonia a major reference point in maritime trade. The dock in the Baratti
Gulf, which was protected by a natural rocky barrier, had to the north the lagoon of
Rimigliano, a passage to the sea which guaranteed entrance to the mining region of
Campiglia Marittima. Here, at least from the Late Archaic period, there were a landing
berth and a sanctuary of great importance, as is demonstrated by the finding of a
series of bronze figurines. South of the promontory of Populonia, the mouth of the
Cornia River created a swamp, with sandy mounds and ponds, which extended to
the Follonica Gulf and represented the main access to the mining region of Mount
Accesa and Massa Marittima. There is nothing to indicate Populonian occupation or
control over the harbor of Falesia—twelve miles south according to the Itinerarium
Maritimum, nowadays identified with Portovecchio of Piombino—during the Archaic
period, but this is a possibility. Highly developed ironworking activities in this region
prompted the growth of the harbor of Populonia, the first Etruscan city to mint coins,
between the late sixth and early fifth centuries (see chapter 27 Catalli). In the second
half of the fifth century, Populonia did not suffer the crisis which affected the harbors
of southern Etruria and Vetulonia due to naval defeats inflicted by Syracuse. It flour-
ished again during the fourth and third centuries, perhaps because of a special rela-
tionship with Rome that was established due to the strategic and military importance
of its harbor and the mining activities related to it.
Besides Elba, the other islands of the Tuscan Archipelago (Giannutri, Giglio,
Montecristo, Pianosa, Capraia, Gorgona), though at a different scale and in different
times, were chosen as locations for landing sites or small emporia. In the first half of
the sixth century, the island of Giglio hosted a fortified site that also served as a berth-
ing place, and a harbor is well attested there and in Giannutri in the first and second
centuries CE and can be surmised for previous periods because of some shipwrecks.
In Corsica too, the division into spheres of influence for the Carthaginians and Etrus-
cans, following the conflict with the Phocaeans, led speedily to the foundation of an
Etruscan warehouse in Aleria.
The other great city of northern Etruria was Pisa, a city between two rivers (the
Auser/Serchio and the Arno), some three and a half kilometers inland, which was con-
nected with the coast by seaways and canals.25 As early as the Orientalizing period,
access to the sea was characterized by a berthing system with a series of docking
facilities on the coast, from the Point of Livorno to the south, and as far north as the
mouth of the Auser (Serchio). In the Itinerarium Maritimum, a Portus Pisanus is men-
tioned as well as a landing site at the mouth of the Arno. The excavations begun in
1998 in the area of Pisa-San Rossore26 led to the discovery of shipwrecks that yielded
a multitude of archaeological finds in an excellent state of preservation. This discov-
ery brought public and scholarly attention to Pisa’s ancient urban layout and to the
25 Bruni 2006; 2010c; 2013, 761–762.

26 Bruni 2003–6; 2010a, 52–53.

ensuing reconstruction of port installations from the sixth century BCE to the fifth
century CE. There are various interpretations: according to Stefano Bruni, who carried
out and published the excavations, San Rossore was the urban harbor of Pisa, with
an extensive basin within an organized complex. Bruni interprets the harbor of San
Piero a Grado, by the mouth of the northernmost branch of the Arno, as the epineion,
the main port of the city, which hosted the Elban iron-working facilities, constructed
as a landing site with wooden docks beginning in the seventh century BCE. Andrea
Camilli, who continued the archaeological investigations, thinks instead that what
was found at San Rossore was the remains of a simple docking station along the banks
of the Auser. The system of the Portus Pisanus mentioned by Rutilius Namatianus
(1.530–40) might more easily be considered a lagoon harbor, according to Camilli,
and San Piero a Grado and perhaps Bocca d’Arno were also riverine landing sites,
while the existence of an urban harbor provided with structures and installations for
hosting ships seems extremely unlikely. Finally, scholars do not even agree about the
existence of another harbor, the so-called Porto delle Conche, located on the Auser
River and possibly used since the late fifth century as a natural access to the city from
the coast.27 Regardless of the varying interpretations, finds at San Rossore testify to
a flow of trade which connected Pisa with centers in Liguria and with all the coastal
cities of Etruria.
Among the inland centers, in the second half of the fifth century, during the Syra-
cusan protectorate of the Populonia-Elba district, Volterra seems to have participated
in the flowering characteristic of the coastal area;28 at the end of the fourth century,
a permanent Volterran slipway was created at the mouth of the Cecina River, north of
Vada.
Farther north, a very old route has been discovered that led from southern Etruria
along the coast to a series of berthing places connected with major centers of the
northern littoral of Etruria, up to the Ligurian coast.29 Among these, besides the small
site of Poggio al Marmo, near the mouth of the Serchio, it is important to note the Mas-
saciuccoli Lagoon, with the warehouse of San Rocchino30 (Viareggio), a seaport that
was installed at the end of the eighth century and was included in the aforementioned
trade system.
In eastern Liguria, by the mouth of the Magra River (modern Fiumaretta), another
warehouse has been supposed to have been occupied and used by Etruscan emporoi
beginning in the first half of the sixth century, coinciding with the abandonment of
the landing site at Chiavari. At the mouth of the Boccatoio, at the outlet from the
Valdicastello near Pietrasanta (Lucca province), another berthing place managed by
27 Bruni 2003–6, vol. 1; contra Camilli 2004.

28 Bonamici 2010, 67.
29 Maggiani 2006.
30 Bonamici 1995, 2006.

23 Harbors 401
the local population (Liguri) has been discovered, and farther north another dock
near the necropolis of Chiavari. The harbor of Genoa was active from the beginning
of the sixth century, performing a role in maritime trade, in a period when the coast
of Liguria was under Etruscan influence:31 a series of small settlements rose along
the littoral, serving as docking facilities, again in connection with mining activities
which took place both in the Colline Metallifere and in the marble mines of the Alpi
Apuane and of Versilia. Simultaneously, an Etruscan warehouse was founded in an
indigenous context at modern-day Lattes (France).
Finally, again in a northern Etruscan realm, the site of Florence, by the Arno,
must be mentioned with the “riverine epineion” of Fiesole.32
4 Etruscan expansion: The Adriatic

On the Adriatic coast, which witnessed an early Etruscan presence, a dock near
Rimini at the mouth of the Marecchia River was used by the city of Verucchio, which
was some fifteen kilometers inland, but strongly oriented toward the sea.33
A basic role was assumed later by Adria,34 on the northern bank of the Po River,
which was connected with the sea by channels through the coastal dunes, with the
complementary docking site of San Basilio near Ariano Polesine. This Etruscan-Vene-
tian emporion was founded around the first half of the sixth century, according to the
sources by Phocaeans first and then by Eginetians; in the last decades of the century a
massive Etruscan presence is documented, with the major intervention of regulariza-
tion of the urban layout comparable with those of Marzabotto and Spina.
In the second half of the century, in fact, Spina was founded,35 to be interpreted
as an answer to the early Greek presence spreading over the Adriatic, which was to
reduce the role and importance of Adria. Spina inherited from Verucchio the func-
tion of an Etruscan port in the Adriatic, including the trade routes under its control,
in a period when the Adriatic Sea had a privileged role in foreign exchange and a
basic function with regard to the exchange network for Po-area Etruria. In 480–470,
Spina’s urban plan adopted a regular layout, patterned on the city of Marzabotto, with
dwellings and canals alternating. It had a major channel communicating with the sea
allowing the arrival of Greek goods. Literary sources celebrate the fame and wealth
of Spina, recalling its thalassocracy and the subsequent foundation of a thēsauros
in Delphi (Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 1.18.4; Strabo 5.1.7, 9.3.8), like the thēsauros of Caere.
31 Melli 2006.
32 Bruni 2010b, 55–56.
33 Malnati 2006.
34 Harari 2002; Colonna 2003; Sassatelli 2008.
35 Berti and Guzzo 1993; Harari 2002.

Spina was also considered a landing site of the Pelasgians who settled Cortona and
became Etruscans.36
Ravenna had a similar urban structure, again located within a river delta, while
for the settlement of Forcello di Bagnolo San Vito (Mantua), a pivotal point along the
Po-Mincio axis, the function of “riverine epineion” has been suggested, as has been
said of Florence.37
5 Etruscan expansion: Campania

Pontecagnano, located in a wide plain near easily accessible coastal lagoons, grew
up in a strategic location for controlling a very important maritime route, especially
between the Late Orientalizing and the Early Archaic period. During the latter, a new
series of settlements has its rise in previously non-urban districts, such as the Sorren-
tine Peninsula (Sorrento, Vico Equense, Stabiae) and Fratte at the mouth of the Irno
River, in a formidable strategic location overlooking both the road connecting Capua
to Poseidonia and the Lower Tyrrhenian sea route, using the natural harbor of Salerno
by the mouth of the Irno. From the second half of the sixth century, Fratte (ancient
Marcina, an Etruscan city according to Strabo 5.4.13) became a major reference point
in the exchange network of the Lower Tyrrhenian together with the landing sites on
the Sorrentine Peninsula, especially as regards the long-distance sea route of Cumae,
as demonstrated by the finding of a conspicuous number of wine amphorae and Attic
pottery in the necropolis there.
6 Conclusions
One may summarize some recurrent elements, including the choice of sites almost
always on the mouths of rivers or on lagoons in the absence of bays. In comparison
with other areas of the ancient world, major Etruscan cities did not rise on the coast,
although each had its own port(s) to which it was connected by a highway. Another
remarkable element is the frequent close relationship between such epineia and
extra-urban sanctuaries, both of which are direct expressions of the power of the city
with respect to the external world.
36 Briquel 1984.
37 de Marinis and Rapi 2007.

23 Harbors 403
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Adriana Emiliozzi
24 Vehicles and roads
Abstract: After the process of social differentiation began in Etruria in the ninth century BCE, some
burial sites with grave goods that identified the deceased as the leader of a community (such as shields
and helmets as symbols of authority, and not just as weapons meant for war), contained clay models
of wheeled vehicles. At sites from around 775–750, actual vehicles begin to appear in both male and
female tombs. From 730–720 on, these vehicles are buried together with banquet and symposium
sets and with objects of women’s domestic activities. From this date, and throughout the Oriental-
izing period (especially during the seventh century), political and religious leaders of the proto-urban
communities were often interred in monumental burial mounds, and wheeled vehicles actually used
during their lifetimes were buried in these tombs together with thrones, utensils for eating meat at
banquets, and table services for drinking wine at the symposia. This is testimony to an aristocratic
lifestyle emulating the Near Eastern world. At sites from the sixth century, these vehicles are no longer
found among the funerary furnishings of the elite who ruled the great Etruscan cities, although the
custom lingers in smaller non-urbanized centers where the most sumptuous parade chariots have
been found. The custom of burying vehicles in the tombs of the elite is widespread among all non-
Hellenized Italic civilizations. The technology evident in these vehicles in both Etruscan and Italic
areas does not demonstrate significant differences, and all the finds at our disposal can be studied as
one cohesive unit.
The roads systems connecting urban centers with each other and with their landholdings can be
traced using a variety of methods, depending upon the chronological period. For the earliest periods
we rely mainly on geomorphology and hydrography in relationship to site location. Only from the late
seventh century can we study actual archaeological remains in urban centers or between them, where
these roads were often preserved by their continuous use until the Roman period.
Keywords: chariots, carts, roads, bridges
Introduction
After the process of social differentiation began in Etruria in the ninth century BCE,
some burial sites with grave goods that identified the deceased as the leader of a
community (such as shields and helmets as symbols of authority, and not just as
weapons meant for war) contained clay models of wheeled vehicles. At sites from
775–750, actual vehicles begin to appear in bith male and female tombs. From
730–720 on, these vehicles are buried together with banquet and symposium sets
and with objects of women’s domestic activities. From this date, and throughout
the Orientalizing period (especially during the seventh century), political and reli-
gious leaders of the proto-urban communities were often interred in monumental
burial mounds, and wheeled vehicles actually used during their lifetimes were
buried in these tombs together with thrones, utensils for eating meat at banquets
and table services for drinking wine at the symposia. This is testimony to an aris-
tocratic lifestyle emulating the Near Eastern world. At sites from the sixth century,
408 Adriana Emiliozzi
vehicles are no longer found among the funerary furnishings of the elite who ruled
the great Etruscan cities, although, the custom lingers in smaller non-urbanized
centers, such as Castro near Vulci or Castel San Mariano near Perugia, where the
most sumptuous parade chariots have been found. The custom of burying vehicles
in the tombs of the elite is widespread among all non-Hellenized Italic civilizations.
The technology evident in these vehicles in both Etruscan and Italic areas does not
demonstrate significant differences, and all the finds at our disposal can be studied
as one cohesive unit.
The roads systems inter-connecting urban centers with each other and with their
landholdings can be traced using a variety of methods, depending upon the chrono-
logical period. For the earliest periods we rely mainly on geomorphology and hydrog-
raphy in relationship to site location. Only from the late seventh century can we study
actual archaeological remains in urban centers or between them, where these roads
were often preserved by their continuous use until the Roman period.
1 Vehicles
Studies aimed at a philological reconstruction of Etruscan and Italic vehicles began
at the end of 1980s in Italy, at the Consiglio Nazionale delle Ricerche.1 The first results
were published in 1997 in the exhibition catalogue Carri da guerra e principi etruschi,
where an updated census of the finds almost doubled the number previously known.2
These finds are distributed over a geographical area that includes the modern regions
of Lazio, Tuscany, Umbria, Marche and Abruzzo in central Italy, Emilia Romagna,
Lombardy and Trentino-Alto Adige in the north, and Campania, Puglia and Basilicata
in the south. It is useful to show the historical geography of Italy and the ancient cul-
tural areas where the tombs of chieftains and their wives included the vehicles they
had used in life, as a symbol of wealth and power (Fig. 24.1).
The Etruscan finds are almost exclusively from princely tombs dating from
775/750 to 475 BCE. In 1997, about 106 graves containing the remains of 119 vehicles
of some significance were known. The remains of nine vehicles out of context were
added to them. As of 2015, progress in the census and in subsequent excavations and
restorations has increased the total number of Etruscan finds to at least 150 units.3
1 Emiliozzi 1991, 1992, 1996 a, 1996b. Finds of Etruscan and Italic vehicles were listed previously by
Nachod 1909, 43–71; Woytowitsch 1978; Stary 1980. Discussions appeared in Stary 1981; Höckmann
1982; Bartoloni and Grottanelli 1984; Galeotti 1986–88.
2 Emiliozzi 1997, which includes an updated list of vehicles from the Italian Peninsula (Camerin and
Emiliozzi 1997).
3 They come from Pontecagnano, Veii, Caere, Tarquinii, Vulci, Rusellae, Vetulonia, Casale Marittimo,
Castellina in Chianti, and Verucchio.

24 Vehicles and roads 409
Fig. 24.1: The cultural areas of the pre-Roman Italy that adopted the custom of burying vehicles
in the tombs of the elite. The numbers indicate how many finds were known in each area in 1997.
The + sign indicates the numbers that have increased since the count was made
Those early studies have allowed us to understand that, with a few exceptions, it
was always two wheeled vehicles that were found in these tombs: the chariot, with
the driver standing as in the Roman currus; or the cart, driven while seated as in the

Roman carpentum.4 The chariot, drawn by two or more horses (biga, triga, and qua
driga), was used by men of high rank to reach the field of battle, to hunt, or to ride in
parades. The cart, drawn by two mules or asses, was used not only by men but also
by women and served in daily life for short or long trips, with or without luggage,
for ceremonies, and even for weddings. Only one two-wheeled vehicle was usually
buried in each grave: in over sixty cases it is an individual burial, and in only twenty
it is a dual or multiple burial. However, the entire Etruscan panorama shows to date
about twenty cases of graves containing the remains of two or more vehicles; in some
of these occurrences the tomb contains two or more burials and it is difficult to assign
the vehicles to individuals. In still other instances the burial of a single individual is
accompanied by deposition of both a chariot and a cart, an occurrence very relevant
for studies on social history.5
1.1 Chariots
To date, two structurally homogeneous types of chariot with the body balanced on
the axle—the most common type in Italy—have been identified in reconstructing
Etruscan-Italic vehicles found in tombs dating from the second half of the eighth to
the sixth century. The bodies of both are long and narrow, such that if they accommo-
dated two people, the charioteer and passenger did not stand side by side, but one in
front of and one behind the axle. “Version A” is more common and is distinguished by
its inverted U-shaped side rails. Etruscan examples of version A are fast chariots like
that from the Tumulo dei Carri in Populonia (Fig. 24.2; 675–650) and parade chariots
like those from Castro near Vulci (ca. 520) and from Castel San Mariano near Perugia
(Fig. 24.3: 530–520).6 “Version B” has been found less frequently, and its reconstruc-
tion is progressing slowly. Its most striking feature is the ear-loop side rails. The clear-
est evidence so far for this variant is from the area of Latium vetus, the fast chariot
from the Barberini Tomb at Praeneste (675–650)7 and the parade chariot from the
4 Previously, the remains of four wheels in a tomb had led some authors to record the presence of a
four-wheeled vehicle or two chariots.
5 Among the Etruscan occurences may be mentioned Camerin and Emiliozzi 1997, nos. 132–133
(Tarquinii), 116–17 (Marsiliana d’Albegna), 173–74 (Vetulonia), 94 (Casale Marittimo, see also Emiliozzi
2001), 98 (Castellina in Chianti, see also Emiliozzi 1999), 227–228 (Verucchio).
6 Emiliozzi 1997, 163–168, figs. 4–5, pl. VI (Populonia); 2011, figs. II.1, II.10 (Castro); Emiliozzi 1997,
210–13, figs. 1, 5 (Castel San Mariano). The earliest example that has been graphically reconstructed
comes from Latium vetus, Tomb 15 of Castel di Decima, dating 720–710 (Emiliozzi 1997, 96, Figure 1;
Camerin and Emiliozzi 1997, no. 19). It is noteworthy that thus far nine “Version A” chariots have been
reconstructed, either physically or in images (see Emiliozzi 2011, n. II.15).
7 Emiliozzi 1992, 102, fig 21; 1997, 97, Figure 2; Camerin and Emiliozzi 1997, no. 25 (with bibliography).

Fig. 24.2: Reconstruction of the fast

chariot from Populonia, Tumulo dei Carri
(Emiliozzi)
Fig. 24.3: Reconstruction of parade Chariot I from Castel

San Mariano (Emiliozzi)

Fig. 24.4: The parade chariot from Rome, Via Appia Antica,
as reconstructed in the Museo Gregoriano Etrusco (Emiliozzi)
Via Appia Antica near Rome (Fig. 24.4; 560–550).8 In southern Etruria, the chariot of
Greek type from the Regolini-Galassi tomb at Caere (660–650) has side rails of similar
shape.9
Structural differences between fast and parade chariots underlie the different
uses. On the fast chariot-type, the passenger area is created by stretching leather
around the lower and central parts of the railings, so as to leave the curved branches
free to act as a handhold for mounting the vehicle. Straps fan down from the tops of
the curves to keep the upper edge of the leather covering taut. Proof that this system
was used is provided by cases where the covering is kept taut by metal frames and the
leather straps are replaced by small metal rods (Fig. 24.5).10
In contrast, on parade chariots from the sixth century, which were designed to
move at a walking pace, the railings do not serve as handrails. All charioteer needed
to do to keep his balance was to hold the reins, while the second passenger kept his
8 Emiliozzi 1997, 201–202, fig. 197. There is also the contemporaneous depiction on the left side
panel of the chariot from Monteleone di Spoleto, probably made in southern Etruria (Emiliozzi 2011,
Figure I.25).
9 Camerin and Emiliozzi 1997, no. 103, with bibliography. In 2013 this chariot has been reconstructed
both in image and physically: Emiliozzi and Sannibale 2013, 38.
10 One more example of version A come from Capua (Emiliozzi 2006), while the war chariot from the
Barberini Tomb at Praeneste represents version B (see bibliography in footnote 7 above).

Fig. 24.5: Metal roads fanning down from the

side rail of the fast chariot from Populonia
balance by holding onto the charioteer’s shoulder, as can be observed in many scenes
of chariot processions.11 The side rails could thus be completely enclosed in leather
and sometimes completely covered with metal decoration, as observed on the Mon-
teleone di Spoleto and Castel San Mariano parade chariots (560–550 and 530–520
respectively). The front rails of these vehicles, whether covered only in leather or dec-
orated with additional elements, are shaped like an inverted U and rise consistently
to a height of about 80–82 cm above the front curve of the U-shaped floor frames.
The design of the side rails is innovative, narrowing toward the front rail and rising
to about two thirds of its height. In version A, a small rectangular panel is sometimes
inserted as if to fill the space that the rails previously occupied behind the axle; this
is a nonfunctional addition and on the most sumptuous examples is covered with
bronze revetment. We cannot be sure whether there was a general redesign of parade
chariots, given that in the sixth century the same features appear in racing chariots
represented in competition, in both Etruscan and Latin iconography. This innovation
may have resulted from technology introduced by wheelwrights at the beginning of
the sixth century to satisfy the demands of a new elite, for whom the ideological bond
between possessing a chariot and its military function had weakened. The transi-
tional stage between the fast and parade chariots seems to have been represented by
the Dutuit chariot from Capua.12
In Etruscan-Italic fast chariots the floor frame is always fixed directly onto the
axle and draft pole, as in the examples from the ancient Mediterranean area. Recon-
structions of chariots from Vulci and Populonia show that these three parts are joined
so as to create a rigid traction structure and that the vehicle could only be ridden
11 Examples are Winter 2009, nos. 5.D.2.a,c, 5.D.3.a,c, and figure II.16.
12 See Emiliozzi 2006.

Fig. 24.6: Sixth-century parade chariots. (A) Bronze decoration on the rear side panels and
shock-absorption systems of the chariots from (1) Monteleone, (2) Castro, and (3) Castel San
Mariano (chariot I); (4) the chariot remains from the Barsanti collection. (B) The chariot from Castro.
(C) Reconstruction of the shock-absorption system in the substructure between the chassis and
the axle of the Monteleone chariot (after Emiliozzi 2011)
thanks to a floor of woven leather strips that served to absorb shocks while the vehicle
was in motion. This reconstruction is based on a fragment of the wooden floor frame
of the Vulci chariot, which shows the holes for the ancient woven leather flooring.13
By contrast, Etruscan parade chariots had a wooden shock-absorption system placed
between the floor frame and the axle. The reconstruction of this type of system is
based on analysis of the external bronze sheets covering the chariots from Castro,
Castel San Mariano, Monteleone di Spoleto, and the Barsanti Collection (Fig. 24.6).14
This system seems to have been introduced when there was a rigid floor, probably
made of wooden slats, rather than a woven leather floor. The vehicles could move
but they could not go fast, as demonstrated by the fact that the wheels of three char-
13 Emiliozzi 1997, 145–151, and pl. V.1. The principle is the same in Egyptian chariots; see Littauer and
Crouwel 1985, especially 67, no. 3, pl. LXIX bottom (chariot from the Tomb of Yuia and Tuiu).
14 Depictions occur on Etruscan-Italic terra cotta plaques that represent vehicles taking part in a
procession (see s.g. Crouwel 2010, figs. a–d), and on the bronze sheet covering chariot II from Castel
San Mariano (Höckmann 1982, pl. 30, left), and on the left panel of the Monteleone chariot (Emiliozzi
2011, Figure I.25).

iots equipped with this type of shock-absorbing system are completely or partially
covered with bronze sheeting. Thus, these vehicles were built only for ceremonial use.
The wheels of Etruscan-Italic chariots generally have six or more spokes, and
only in very rare cases have four, as in Greek vehicles. The most striking example is
the chariot from Regolini-Galassi tomb of Caere. The wooden rim of the wheel (the
felly) is in most cases composed of two layers, with the outer layer made from seg-
ments of wooden planks and the inner layer from a single bent branch. Metal clamps
always hold the joints, and the nailed iron tire contributes even further to keeping the
composition stable.
The traction system of Etruscan-Italic chariots from throughout the entire first
millennium is consistent, as seen in clay and metal models, depictions, and some
actual pieces. There were two horses under a neck yoke which was connected to the
vehicle by means of a central draft pole.
In Etruscan iconography, chariots are often shown with a body shape very dif-
ferent from those analyzed here, but to date it has been difficult to recognize them
among the remains of the vehicles found in the tombs. Moreover, chariots similar to
those of mainland Greece and Magna Graecia sometimes appear depicted together
with chariots of the Etruscan-Italic type.15
1.2 Carts
In the 1980s an idea developed that differentiated the remains of chariots from those
of vehicles equipped with a trident-shaped metal finial (improperly called “rein
guides”).16 The 1989 discovery of the tomb of the “Princess” or “Queen” of Sirolo at
the necropolis of Numana near Ancona, has led to the identification of this “trident”
as a finial for the Y-shaped draft pole of a cart.17 The reconstruction of this vehicle,
made both graphically and in a 1:4 scale model, has led to the establishment of the
idea that all remains that include trident-shaped metal finials denote the presence of
a cart (Fig. 24.7).
These finds are distributed in Etruria, in Latium vetus, in Faliscan territory and
in the Picenum.18 Since the cart from Sirolo was equipped with wheels that rotate on
a fixed axle like those found on chariots, we believe that it had a double function,
both ceremonial and utilitarian, for the fast transport of people and baggage. For this
15 An actual Greek-type chariot is the biga from the Regolini-Galassi tomb of Caere mentioned in
footnote 9 above.
16 Galeotti 1986–88.
17 Emiliozzi 1992, no. 36; Landolfi, De Palma, Usai, Emiliozzi, and Wilkens 1997, figs. 19, 21–23,
pls. XXV–XXVIII.
18 Camerin and Emiliozzi 1997, nos. 23, 29, 57, 59, 60, 73, 75, 113, 116, 121, 131, 142, 144, 145, 147, 149, 150,
164, 165, 187, 205, 210, 225, 228, 230. Further discoveries have occurred since 1997.

Fig. 24.7: The cart from Trevignano Romano, Tomba dei Flabelli. (A) detail of the trident-shaped
finial. (B) Proposed reconstruction. (Emiliozzi)
reason, the seat is placed at the front of the floor, while the back was reserved for
baggage. This type of cart was not embellished with bronze sheets, so it is possible
that these carts served their rich landowners as transportation between town and
their country estates.19
In some examples, the trident-shaped pole finial is found together with a pair of
U-shaped metal brackets. The function of these brackets was to hold in place the axle
that spun together with the wheel, revolving under a central grooved beam beneath
the chassis. Examples of U-shaped brackets come from Acqua Acetosa Laurentina
near Rome, Veii, Narce, Vetulonia, Casale Marittimo, Fabriano, Verucchio (Fig. 24.8).20
In some occurrences where these brackets have been found, metal disks that covered
the hub heads were also found, sometimes together with metal axle caps. These parts
allow us to establish a rectangular cross-section for the axle-arm. This rectangular
shape distinguishes the (slow-moving) revolving axle from the (fast-moving) fixed
19 Colonna 1997, 21.

20 Camerin and Emiliozzi 1997, nos. 29, 57, 94, 102, 144, 164, 165, 187, 210, and 230.

Fig. 24.8: The iron brackets from Casale Marittimo, Casa Nocera
necropolis, tomb A: (a) One bracket; (b) the axle revolving under
the grooved beam beneath the chassis (Emiliozzi)
axle, which is equipped with cylindrical axle arms. The virtual reconstruction of the
cart from Eretum (620–600) shows how this mechanism works.21
The draft poles of these carts are not always Y-shaped but are sometimes centrally
positioned under the floor, as on chariots. The masterpiece of this category is the cart
of Eretum mentioned above. The cart from the Tumulo dei Carri of Populonia (675–
650) was made exclusively for ceremonies, because its wheels were fully covered with
bronze.22 Another cart from Castel San Mariano (ca. 560) is also ceremonial because
its entire body is covered in embossed and engraved bronze sheets.23
21 La tomba del principe 2006; Emiliozzi, Moscati and Santoro 2007.
22 Emiliozzi 1997, pl. X.
23 Reconstructions as a four-wheeled vehicle are unacceptable (Höckmann 1982, 27, fig. 12; Danesi
and Manconi 2009). The correct reconstruction as a two-wheeled cart is provided by Emiliozzi 2013,
62–75 (very different from Bruni 2002, figs. 8, 12).

The wheels of carts are built like those of chariots, but in general have a larger
diameter. The hubs are generally shorter than on chariots, given that a vehicle pulled
by mules or asses is slower than one pulled by horses, and has more stability when
going into corners. The shorter length of the hubs goes along with the greater width of
the cart body, which is wide enough to accommodate two people sitting side by side,
and sometimes even four sitting back to the back.24 As a result, the wheel track—or
gauge—equals that of the chariots.
2 Roads
In Etruria, remains of land transport vehicles go back to the early first millennium
in the form of models, and to the second half of the eighth century in the form of
actual vehicles, as already stated, while evidence of the roads on which they traveled
is known to us only from the late seventh century. The paths of these roads are
inferred by combined analysis of different kinds of sources, such as geomorphology
and hydrography in relation to the settlements and cemeteries25 and the late written
sources, which are sometimes useful as far back as the Archaic period.26
From within certain settlements, remains of pavements have emerged, mostly
related to courts, courtyards, and squares which functioned in monumental houses
or buildings. Remains of actual roadbeds have also occasionally been found. In south-
ern Etruria there are occurrences in Veii, San Giovenale, Acquarossa, Tarquinii, Regis-
villae, Rusellae,27 and Volsinii/Orvieto.28 In Po valley Etruria there are occurrences at
Marzabotto, Casalecchio di Reno, Felsina/Bologna, Spina, Mantua, and some minor
settlements at Correggio, S. Ilario d’Enza, and Castelnuovo Monti in Reggio Emilia.29
In the Etruscan town of Acquarossa, the remains of streets from the end of the seventh
century are among the most ancient, with borders and pavement 1.5–2 m wide. Evi-
dence of road maintenance during the first half of the sixth century testifies to the
practice of improving the road surface, a practice that appears elsewhere as well, such
24 The carts provided with a front seat carried two people sitting side by side (see Fig. 24.7), while
those with a center seat (see footnote 21 for the cart from Eretum) could carry four sitting back to the
back, as seen in contemporaneous Greek depictions (Emiliozzi 1997, pl. XXIV).
25 See Stopponi 2002a, 234–235, road links between Perugia and Volsinii/Orvieto; Bruschetti 2002,
71, roads from Perugia to Lake Trasimeno, to Valdichiana and to the Clusium area; suggestions about
the roads radiating from Fiesole, Arezzo and Cortona are provided by Giulierini 2011.
26 This is the case of the road system that linked traffic between the Tyrrhenian and Adriatic Seas
(from Pisa to Spina by way of Marzabotto and Bologna), following the fourth-century geographer
Pseudo-Skylax (Peripl, 17).
27 Quilici 1997, 78–79.
28 Stopponi 2002b, 111, 114–15; 2009; Cruciani 2012.
29 Quilici 1997, 80–81.

Fig. 24.9: Acquarossa near Viterbo, a segment of a road in the area F (from Östenberg 1975, 193)
as at Veii and Caere. During this period, the roads reach 3–4 m in width. During the
second half of the century the use of well-paved city streets is generalized and, while
still retaining the width of 2–2.8 m, they can also reach 4.4 (Acquarossa, Fig. 24.9)
and even 9 m as at Volsinii/Orvieto. The fullest development of the Etruscan road-
building technique is documented in the fifth century, both in southern Etruria—as at
Tarquinia and Regisvillae—and especially in Po valley Etrurian centers.30
Remains of inter-city roadways have also been preserved, either as “vie cave” (see
below), or as roadbeds used until the Roman empire, where the archaic pavement
appears in underlying layers of the later basalt or limestone blocks that have pro-
tected them. The roads that come to us thanks to segments unearthed in southern
Etruria, for example, cover short distances between the cities and the smaller centers,
30 Quilici 1997, 92.

such as from Veii to Monte Sant’Angelo at Baccano (Roman Vacanae), to Nepi (Etrus-
can Nepet), to Lucus Feroniae, to the course of Tiber River, and to Rome. We also know
of some roads from big cities like Caere that radiate out into the surrounding country-
side. The most important of these, which linked Caere to the port of Pyrgi, was 12 km
long; its careful construction is attested as early as the second half of the seventh
century. At the beginning of the fifth century, at its apex, it was more than 10 m wide
and the wear of the old roadway was filled with a mix of pebbles, gravel and sand.31
Other roads linked this metropolis to Tarquinii, Veii, and Rome.32 Obviously, these
shorter roads combined to form long-distance highways, but never under a single,
national jurisdiction until the Roman conquest.
These roads from the archaic period normally maintained their natural-soil road-
beds, which were leveled and compacted simply by beating the earth. In the case of
level routes carved across the tufa, the originally shallow depth of the road could sink
to a few meters below ground level. When the route went through hilly volcanic land-
scapes, trenches were cut in the tufa, sometimes resulting in very deep gorges called
vie cave, which are found in great number in southern Etruria, at Veii and the adja-
cent Faliscan area, at Caere, Norchia, Castel d’Asso, and Volsinii/Orvieto. They have
also been found in the Fiora River Valley (southern Tuscany) at Pitigliano, Sorano and
Sovana (Fig. 24.10).33 Many of them are still in use today, and it is difficult to date their
chronological phases.
The wear on the road surface was due mainly to the passage of vehicles with
wheels encircled by iron tires, which over time caused deep ruts and compromised the
integrity of vehicles using the road. The surfaces required continuous maintenance,
and instead of importing slabs of stone to resurface the roadway, the Etruscans recut
and re-leveled stretches as they deteriorated. From the fifth century on, the Etruscans
began to restore the surface of these dirt roads with layers of debris and stone chips
compacted and contained between edging stones, adding means of water drainage.
Some segments of archaic Etruscan roadbeds are wide enough only for a single
wheeled vehicle and not for a second one approaching from the opposite direction.
Since the roads were only 1.5 to 2 m wide, vehicles needing to pass each other could
take advantage of enlarged roadside shoulders installed at more or less regular inter-
vals. There were also wider roads of 4 m, which were suitable for simultaneous transit
of two vehicles.34 In some cases, widths of 5.5–6.7 m have been measured where
well-preserved sections of road show five to six pairs of parallel chariot wheels ruts.
These ruts, which are always mentioned in studies of ancient roads, have not been
systematically measured in relation to chronological periods. Some well-preserved
31 Colonna 1968; Quilici 1989, 460–61; Nardi 1988, esp. 16.

32 Nardi 1985; 1988; 1989.
33 Quilici 1989; 1990; Feo 2007.
34 Examples of these different sizes are provided by Quilici 1997.

Fig. 24.10: View of an Etruscan via cava near Sovana, in Fiora River Valley (photo Emiliozzi)
examples are 1.10–1.30 m apart, from groove to groove.35 The width of 1.30 m is not
found in the gauge of the few princely vehicles with iron rims found in situ or even
reconstructed with their original measurements. In these cases—dating from seventh
and sixth centuries—it was possible to determine gauges that vary from a maximum
35 Quilici 1989, 484 (1.10 m); 1997, 76 (1.20, 1.30 m).

size of 1.19 m (Populonia chariot cited above), in intermediate steps of 1.00 and
0.93 m, down to a likely minimum of about 0.87–0.88 m. However, these variables are
reported in vehicles that come down to us because they were buried in the graves of
high-raking persons, while nothing is known about the utility wagons for the trans-
portation of goods and people in everyday life. Since it is not plausible that there were
different rules for utility vehicles and for princely ones, the variables suggest that at
least through the Archaic period, roads were built without regard for the gauge of the
wheels of vehicles.
2.1 Bridges
As for bridges arching over the rivers, very few remains are preserved, especially from
the Archaic period. Many of them were built with wooden planks and obviously did
not survive. Among the more elaborate ones, built mainly of wood supported by stone
foundation piers, there is the bridge over the Fiora River at Castello dell’Abbadia, near
Vulci. Its foundations are Etruscan, but the arches are Roman and its topmost part is
medieval. Another example can be found at San Giovenale in inner southern Etruria,
where two massive bridge supports of tufa blocks (20 m apart) were constructed on
either side of the Pietrisco stream; remains of a stone construction in the river bed sug-
gests that the bridge was made mostly of wood and was supported by stone pillars.36
An alternative method for bypassing a stream in a rocky landscape was to channel
the flow of water through a tunnel dug under one of its banks, draining the riverbed.
This structure is known as a ponte sodo and is evidenced by the bridges named Ponte
Sodo and Arco del Pino in the territory of Veii, and by Ponte Vivo and Ponte Coperto
near Caere.37
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Andrea Zifferero
25 Mines and Metal Working
Abstract: Etruria mineraria offers the most interesting range of metallic ores south of the Alps. Large
quantities of useful ores, such as copper mixed with lead sulfide and even iron oxide, are found in the
Colline Metallifere and in high concentrations on the island of Elba, and in Latium in the area of Monti
della Tolfa. Pits, shafts, and galleries were excavated in the Prehistoric (Chalcolithic and Early Bronze
Age), Protohistoric (Final Bronze Age and Iron Age), and Etruscan periods to obtain metals (mainly
copper and silver from sulfides, but also antimonite and tin) from polymetallic ore, and non-metallic
products (for example cinnabar from Monte Amiata and alum from open-air alunite quarries). This
chapter discusses the distribution of ore and offers a basic overview of techniques used by Protohis-
toric and Etruscan miners, which were developed further in Roman and Medieval times. Three mining
districts are reviewed: the Monti di Campiglia area (Livorno), the Colline Metallifere around Massa
Marittima (Grosseto), and the Monti della Tolfa area (Rome), which each present a different level of
archaeological investigation and provide a technical and metallurgical framework for the processing
of ore and its relationship to settlement systems. Archaeological evidence from mines and metallurgi-
cal sites is also used to examine the political influence of some centers in Etruria mineraria, namely
Populonia and Vetulonia, on mining areas. Special attention is paid to work in progress on Etruscan
mining and metallurgical processes for the production of copper and iron from ore using advanced
smelting techniques with different types of furnaces for polymetallic sulfides and iron ores. The result
is a picture of Etruscan mining and metallurgy that would continue until the expansion of Roman
control into the Monti di Campiglia and Populonia districts, with the production of copper and silver
from local mines and of iron from Elba apparently ending during the first century BCE, although
new surveys in the Colline Metallifere area suggest that limited production of copper, perhaps silver,
and certainly iron from local gossan deposits may have continued until the second century CE; some
metallurgical sites remained active until the fourth century CE, leading to the field of Early Medieval
mining and metallurgy.
Keywords: Etruria mineraria; mining landscape; mining archaeology; metallurgy; smelting activities
1 Distribution of ore deposits in Etruria

Etruria offers the most interesting range of metallic ores south of the Alps. Large
quantities of useful ores, such as copper mixed with lead sulfide and even iron oxide,
are found in the Colline Metallifere and in high concentrations on the island of Elba,
and in Latium in the area of Monti della Tolfa (Fig. 25.1).1
In central Tuscany, the large area between the Cecina and Bruna Rivers has been
called Etruria mineraria due to the extensive presence of copper and iron. The abun-
dant production of and trade in metals here between the Final Bronze Age and the
Roman conquest at the beginning of the third century BCE has been connected to
1 For the consistency and distribution of ore in Etruria, see Mascaro et al. 1991; Mascaro and Cuteri
1995; Giardino 1995. On the iron ore on the island of Elba see chapter 26 Corretti.
426 Andrea Zifferero
Fig. 25.1.: Distribution of metallic and non-metallic ore in ancient Etruria (Tuscany and Latium):
the area between the Cecina and Bruna Rivers is identified as Etruria mineraria

25 Mines and Metal Working 427
the development of Populonia and Vetulonia.2 In the Colline Metallifere, copper and
lead sulfides have accumulated in contact with thick layers of massive limestone,
principally in the Monti di Campiglia area (Livorno), where caves formed by karst
processes made it easier for ancient miners to identify and work veins. Some minor
ores, characterized by copper sulfides, are also present in the Val di Cecina (Volterra),
the Val di Merse area (Siena), and in the Monti Rognosi (Arezzo); there are also some
significant sulfide deposits beyond the Arno River valley, in the Alpi Apuane, which
faces ancient Liguria.3
In southern Tuscany, sulfide ores located along the Fiora River valley were valu-
able ancient sources of antimonite, a mineral used as early as the Chalcolithic period
and Early Bronze Age for making ornaments, while the high concentrations of cinna-
bar on the southern and eastern slopes of Monte Amiata have been worked since the
Chalcolithic period.4 The most important metallic and non-metallic deposits lie in the
Monti della Tolfa, a mountain range in northern Latium that was thickly populated in
the Final Bronze Age by a dense network of Proto-Villanovan settlements and ceme-
teries. Ores here consist of massive deposits of alunite, a non-metalliferous aluminum
disulphate, which was used in antiquity to dye cloth various colors, tan hides, and
protect timber from fires. Less important bodies of iron hydroxides, usually gossan
deposits generated by the oxidation of deeper veins of copper and lead sulfides, are
likely to have been worked in the Prehistoric, Etruscan, and Roman periods, and cer-
tainly during Medieval times.5
2 The mining landscape of Etruria: research

on mines and contemporary enhancement
The massive concentration of metallic ores in Etruria has produced a complex land-
scape consisting of mines surrounded by waste products and the remains of smelting
plants, which were often located near mine entrances. Mining activity extends from
2 Atti Populonia 1981; Zanini 1997; Cambi, Cavari, and Mascione 2009; Preite 2009.
3 On the Monti di Campiglia ore and mining activity, see Tanelli 1993a, 1993b; Cascone 1993; Casini
1993; Francovich 1994. For a detailed overview of Tuscan deposits see Mascaro, Guideri, and Benvenuti
1991.
4 Dessau et al. 1972 investigates the sulfide bodies in the Fiora River Valley. On ornaments in
antimonite, see Petitti and Rossi 2008, with references. For a review of the evidence for Prehistoric
mining of the cinnabar deposits in southern Tuscany, see Giardino and Steiniger 2011, with references
and now Volante 2014, with references.
5 Fazzini et al. 1972; Camponeschi and Nolasco 1978; Zifferero 1991; Giardino 1995, 109–16; 2008;
Giardino and Steiniger 2011. For a technical and historical overview of the alunite mining see
Delumeau 1962; Di Carlo et al. 1984; Zifferero 1996a, 1996b; Fedeli Bernardini 2000; Picon 2005.

the Chalcolithic period to the second half of the twentieth century. Certain phases are
marked by particular intensity, like the late Protohistoric and the Etruscan periods,
which was followed by less activity in Roman times, and a resurgence in the Middle
Ages when local feudal powers controlled extraction and reduction activities and
Comuni used their public authority to control long-distance trade in precious minting
metals, such as copper and silver, as well as blooms of rough iron.6 The Renais-
sance was another intense period of mining and metallurgy, in which some previ-
ously Etruscan districts, such as the Monti di Campiglia, were mined for copper and
lead sulfides using new forms of open air extraction developed under the Medici.
Methods of open air quarrying continued to evolve in the seventeenth and eighteenth
centuries, as did metallurgy, particularly with improvements in methods of acquiring
copper and lead from polymetallic sulfides.7 In the late eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries, the development of natural sciences such as geology and mineralogy wit-
nessed the introduction of new driving shafts and galleries in mining areas, which
often led to the rediscovery and recording of evidence for Protohistoric mining activ-
ity and tools made of stone and bone; the resultant field of archeologia mineraria, or
mining archaeology, provided a new perspective on the history of mining activities in
the region (Fig. 25.2).8
The foundation of the Istituto di Studi Etruschi in 1925 was an important step
in the research and analysis of ancient Etruscan mining. In the Fascist period, an
impressive bulk of iron slag in the suburban area of Populonia was recovered and
reused, enabling Antonio Minto to begin a new phase of research marked by collabo-
ration between mineralogists, botanists, and archaeologists.9 After a pause following
World War II, during the 1980s, Riccardo Francovich launched a program of mining
and metallurgical research at Rocca San Silvestro in the Monti di Campiglia district.
This Medieval village had been ruled by local aristocrats who controlled the extrac-
tion and smelting of local deposits of skarn—mixed sulfides containing copper and
lead—to provide copper and silver for the Pisa mint. Full excavation of the site led to
a systematic survey of the zone, including exploration and excavation of the mines,
analysis of deposits of extracted minerals, and finally excavation of deposits of slag.10
Similar interests have driven a number of projects intended to recognize and enhance
the scientific and historical aspects of particular areas in the Colline Metallifere, such
as the Parco Archeominerario di San Silvestro (Campiglia Marittima) and the Parco
Nazionale Tecnologico e Archeologico delle Colline Metallifere Grossetane (Montero-
6 For a historical overview of mining in Tuscany and Latium, see Tognarini 1984; Francovich and
Farinelli 1994; Piola Caselli and Piana Agostinetti 1996; Fedeli Bernardini 2000; Preite 2009.
7 Tanelli 1993b; Casini 1993; Morelli 1996; Zifferero 1996b; Preite 2009.
8 Francovich 1994.
9 See D’Achiardi et al. 1937 and Minto 1943, on these multidisciplinary approaches; on the activity of
the Istituto di Studi Etruschi in the field of natural sciences, see Tarantini 2002, with references.
10 Francovich and Parenti 1987; Casini and Francovich 1993; Casini 1993.

Fig. 25.2: Plan of the Miniera del Cornacchino at Monte Amiata (Castell’Azzara, Grosseto),
active between 1872 and 1921 for the extraction of mercury. The position of Prehistoric galleries
for the extraction of cinnabar is marked on the right side of the sketch as linea del giacimento
lavorato dagli antichi (after De Castro 1914)

tondo Marittimo, Montieri, Massa Marittima, Roccastrada, Follonica, Scarlino, and

Gavorrano).11
3 The Monti di Campiglia (Livorno) mining

and metallurgical district
Internal mine surveys and the development of a comprehensive chronological frame-
work have produced an understanding of extraction works in the Monti di Campiglia
district in the Prehistoric (Chalcolithic), Protohistoric (Late Iron Age, mainly eighth
century), Etruscan (Archaic, Late Archaic, and Hellenistic phases), and Roman
periods. Evidence of mining in these phases is found principally in the core of the
basin, at Monte Spinosa, Monte Rombolo, and the Colle I Manienti in the west; in the
area of Poggio all’Aione to the east; and in the areas of Romitorio and Monte Coronato
in the north. There are also traces of activity around Monte Valerio, where the limo-
nitic masses contain tin (cassiterite).12
The first task in ancient mining was to identify the surface of a vein. In natural
caves, hollowed out by karst waters, miners could reach sulfide deposits that had
accumulated close to the massive limestone. It may also have been possible to rec-
ognize altered gossan deposits (typically amorphous red-ocher stains) that were pro-
duced by meteoric waters and signaled the presence of a sulfide vein below. Once
located, excavations typically followed the irregular course of the vein.
In karst caves a prospector could more easily detect the depth and consistency
of the vein or skarn mass; Etruscan and Roman (and probably Iron Age) shafts are
usually less than 1 m in diameter, and galleries were quite narrow, between 0.7 and
0.8 m wide, and with a length varying between half a meter and several meters.
Remains in the area of Poggio all’Aione indicate that these mines could reach depths
of over 100 m with galleries more than 800 m long (Fig. 25.3).
To save work, miners generally began by excavating the oxidized portion of the
gossan and then followed the vein underground, leaving empty voids (“cultivation
rooms”), where the ore was most concentrated. There are no signs of fire, suggest-
ing that excavations were entirely manual, and traces of iron picks on the vein are
chaotic and uneven. Irregularly shaped holes in the walls of shafts and galleries
suggest the use of oil lamps, and additional small rectangular incisions, measuring
0.10 × 0.10 × 0.05 m, indicate the presence of wooden stairs or platforms. The wooden
frames that protect galleries in Renaissance and modern mines were absent in their
11 Francovich 1994; Bianchi et al. 1997; Casini 2001; Preite 2009; Dallai 2011.
12 Casini 1993; Cascone 1993; Fedeli 1995; Cascone and Casini 1997; Casini 2001; Casini and Cascone
2002; Zifferero 2002; Fedeli and Galiberti 2016.

Fig. 25.3: Plan and section of the Etruscan mine Buche al Ferro 2 (Castagneto Carducci, Livorno),
showing a complex system of pits, shafts, and cultivation rooms for the extraction of polymetallic
sulfide ore (courtesy A. Casini and G. Cascone; drawing by G. Cascone)

Fig. 25.4: Cultivation room at the bottom of the Etruscan mine

Burian-Fohn (San Vincenzo, Livorno), with discarded material from
the excavation of the skarn masses (courtesy A. Casini)
Etruscan, Roman, and Medieval counterparts. Other discarded material, however, is

abundant, and is thought to have been the byproduct of a sorting process that saw
only the richest ores taken to the surface in leather sacks or wooden buckets. It is
possible that excavations of this material may yield finds such as domestic pottery,
amphorae, lamps, and blunt picks that are essential for dating related mining activi-
ties (Fig. 25.4).
In the Monti di Campiglia, sites of metallurgical activity appear to have been con-
centrated at the Fosso di Capattoli, in the valley of Temperino, and in the Podere I
Cancellini area, on the eastern side of Monte Calvi.13 In Etruscan, Roman, and Medi-
eval times, these activities typically took place on plains with plentiful wood and
water, and generated a considerable amount of slag that is now part of the archae-
ological landscape, sometimes located a considerable distance from the mine. The
primary goal in the Protohistoric and Etruscan periods was the extraction of sulfides;
the presence of cassiterite in the iron-oxide hydrates at Monte Valerio also suggests
the pursuit of tin, although recent investigations of the existing limited shafts and
galleries suggests that this was a Roman endeavor. 14
13 Casini 1993; Cascone and Casini 1997; Zifferero 2002.

14 Casini and Cascone 2002.

4 Evidence for metallurgical activities at Golfo di

Baratti (Livorno) and along the Golfo di Follonica
(Grosseto)
Mining activities in the Monti di Campiglia must be understood in the context of the
broader archaeological and historical framework of Populonia and its hinterland.
There is evidence that this settlement controlled the exploitation of sulfide depos-
its beginning in the ninth century through a complex network of fortified hilltops
dating back to the Iron Age, such as one at Colle I Manienti, which were active until
the Hellenistic period.15 New data (confirmed by radiocarbon analyses) on smelting
processes involving chalcopyrite along the shore of the Golfo di Baratti have revealed
that this metallurgical activity is contemporary with close contact between Populonia
and Sardinia, and it is thus possible that the confidence and experience of Nuragic
miners and metallurgists in working polymetallic ores influenced Etruscan smelting
of local skarn.16
The smelting of polymetallic sulfides from Campiglia preceded the mining of hem-
atite at Elba: iron reduction processes appear to have occurred after the mid eighth
century and promoted an intense long-distance trade in Etruscan iron (see chapter
26. Corretti). Reduction by local metallurgical workshops left immense heaps of slag
(calculated to exceed 40,000 m3) all around the suburban area of Populonia: surveys
and excavations of portions of the Golfo di Baratti coastline have recently identified
areas of metallurgical activity that contain remains of the smelting of non-ferrous ore.
Comparison between fragments of crude ore and the mineralogical features of the
slag make it highly probable that the ore came from the Monti di Campiglia mines.
Slag-cakes suggest a multistage copper smelting process, using tapping, low-shaft
furnaces built with sandstone blocks bound by clay mixed with straw, and tuyeres
for introducing air into the furnace. The recovery of many partial furnace remains
in these coastal deposits may reflect the short life of the plants. Along the shoreline
the lowest layers are rich in copper slag, confirming the antiquity of copper produc-
tion, which can be dated to the ninth and eighth centuries by radiocarbon analysis of
their charcoal content.17 Superimposed wider layers provide evidence of iron smelting
stretching from the eighth and seventh centuries to the Roman period. The presence
of tapped slag, often with fragments of tap holes and evacuation channels, indicates
15 Fedeli 2001; on the local fortified hilltops settlement system, see Casini 1993 and Zifferero 2002.
16 Benvenuti et al. 2000; Chiarantini et al. 2009; Chiarantini and Benvenuti 2009, with references;
on contacts between Populonia and the Nuragic culture in the Iron Age, see Lo Schiavo, Falchi, and
Milletti 2008; Zifferero 2009; Milletti 2012; Lo Schiavo and Milletti 2013.
17 For guidelines on iron metallurgy in Italy see Pleiner 2000, 28–30. Evidence from Populonia is
highlighted in Benvenuti et al. 2000; Chiarantini and Benvenuti 2009, with references; Acconcia and
Milletti 2009.

Fig. 25.5: Hypothetical reconstruction of Etruscan iron furnaces in the Golfo di Baratti (Populonia)
area, showing the different steps of iron ore smelting, including the spilling of silicate slag and the
final recovery of iron blooms through the demolition of the plant (courtesy Studio Inklink, Florence)
the use of slag-tapping furnaces with high walls. These were built with sandstone
linings covered with clay, and air was again introduced during the smelting process
through tuyeres in the walls; silicate slag was tapped through an opening at the base
of the furnace (Fig. 25.5). Excavation of a limited portion of the coastline has uncov-
ered the remains of two furnaces that were partially dug into the ground. With an
aboveground height of approximately 30 cm and an internal diameter of between 20
and 30 cm, their walls were constructed by arranging sandstone and clay bricks or

tiles in a horseshoe shape. The furnaces and slag suggest that this plant was used as a
smithing area with ironworks, and was active between the fifth and second centuries.
The crude and partially roasted or smelted ore from deposits here suggests an origin
in the Rio Marina (Elba) iron mines.18
Finds at Rondelli (Follonica) have furthermore provided new knowledge of
Archaic and Classical iron-smelting plants along the coast facing Elba. Twenty-one
smelting furnaces have been discovered here. They consist of round pits, between
70 and 80 cm in diameter and between 30 and 40 cm deep, with revetments of clay
mixed with straw. The clay coverings are often considerably burned. Clay-brick walls
had a short life, requiring rebuilding with every smelting operation. The pits were
used for the repeated collection of silicate slags, some of which have been found
inside. The upper part of the furnaces held layers of iron and charcoal. The opening
for the tuyere must have been in the lower part of the wall, with air blown inside using
leather bellows or sheepskins. The ore at Rondelli is also reminiscent of supplies from
Rio Marina.19
5 The Colline Metallifere (Grosseto) mining district

Mixed sulfide deposits around Massa Marittima are interesting but little known as
yet. The ore here can be roughly classified into massive deposits of pyrite and mixed
sulfides, and less consistent seam deposits of quartz and mixed sulfides.20 Minerals
excavated and processed during the Protohistoric, Etruscan, Roman, and Medieval
periods include zinc sulfides, galena, chalcopyrite and limonite, while a substantial
deposit of iron sulfides (pyrite) was worked between 1910 and the 1980s to make sul-
furic acid.
The most intense mining activity in the area took place in Etruscan and Medieval
times. There are archaeological indications that between the ninth and sixth centu-
ries the sparse settlement system around the Lago dell’Accesa was concentrated near
the southern deposits of galena and chalcopyrite at La Speziala and Serrabottini.21
Medieval mining, under the control of the Comune of Massa Metallorum, has been
recorded in the north, with more than 250 known shafts at sites such as Niccioleta,
Valle dello Stregaio, Monte Gai, and Val d’Aspra, which all exhibit mining activities
beginning in the pre-Roman period. In the western hills, between Poggio Bruscoline
and Monte Arsenti, traces of mining activity confirm the mention of pits in Medieval
documents, and metallurgical waste. To the southwest, between Podere Altini and La
18 Chiarantini et al. 2004–5; Chiarantini and Benvenuti 2009, with references.

19 Aranguren et al. 2004; Aranguren, Giachi, and Pallecchi 2009.
20 Mascaro and Cuteri 1995; Costantini et al. 2002.
21 Preite 2009.

Fig. 25.6: Distribution of ancient and modern mines for working polymetallic sulfide ore around
Massa Marittima (Grosseto), in the heart of the Colline Metallifere. Most places are mentioned in
the text: the southern portion of the map shows the position of the Etruscan site at Lago dell’Accesa,
close to the mining area of Serrabottini (courtesy L. Dallai; drawing by A. Bardi)

Speziala, there are both pre-Roman shafts and more regular Medieval pits, the latter
often encased with stones, with cuts in the walls for platforms and winches. In the
east, between Poggio al Montone and La Castellaccia, there areshafts that are up to
0.9 m in diameter and 40 m in depth (Fig. 25.6).
Ancient and Medieval mining areas overlap on the northern side of Lago
dell’Accesa. This zone is mentioned in the thirteenth-century Codice Minerario Mas-
setano, when the district came under the direct control of the Comune. There is abun-
dant evidence of shafts and waste deposits outside mines, as well as an immense
quantity of slag from the reduction of galena and chalcopyrite, signaling the central-
ized organization of the Repubblica di Massa foundries in the nearby La Marsiliana
and L’Arialla areas during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.22
Recent research has led to the review of data collected by Gaetano Badii and the
classification of mining and metallurgical activities with a special focus on the Etrus-
can, Roman, and Medieval periods. Intensive surveys carried out in the Serrabottini
area have uncovered the presence of large heaps of mining spoil, connected with
extraction activities during the Chalcolithic period and the Early Bronze Age, based
on the presence of hoards with copper plano-convex buns or isolated copper buns
and above all on the location of the Protohistoric settlement system.23 Intense mining
activity in the Medieval period is indicated by the remains of approximately fifty
mines. The best-preserved medieval shafts have round openings and are often still
lined with regular courses of roughly hewn stones. Although many have been filled
in, some have been explored and surveyed, with initial on-site inspections indicating
that the vein was worked using vertical and parallel shafts from the surface.24
The Etruscan presence around Lago dell’Accesa consists of small, separated Iron
Age (late ninth and eighth centuries) cemeteries at Fosso di Sodacavalli and at Campo
Nuovo, which have not yet been associated with settlements. The origins of the local
community more properly lie in the late seventh and early sixth centuries, when it is
possible to recognize groups of houses apparently occupied by people connected with
mining activities in the Serrabottini area. Giovannangelo Camporeale, who has dug
at Macchia del Monte, has determined that metallurgical activity occurred near the
shafts, and has proposed that the inhabitants of this quarter were high-status people
with links to Vetulonia, approximately fifteen kilometers away. Pieces of sulfide min-
erals found in the walls of houses suggest a moderate level of sulfide reduction at the
site, and the additional presence of iron slag makes smithing plants highly probable,
especially in Sector C.25
22 Badii 1931; Aranguren et al. 2006, 2007; Dallai et al. 2009; Farinelli and Santinucci 2014.
23 Aranguren et al. 2006, 2007.
24 Aranguren et al. 2006, 2007.
25 Camporeale, Giuntoli, and Patrini 1996; Camporeale 1997; 2005.

A detailed picture of the organization of mining and metallurgical activities in

the territory of Vetulonia has yet to be drawn, although surveys along the upper Val
di Bruna, around Castel di Pietra (Gavorrano), have revealed the outline of a dense
pattern of open sites, with evidence of a direct relationship between local quartz
seams rich in polymetallic sulfides and smelting activities to extract copper, and
perhaps silver, in the mid seventh and sixth centuries and again in the fourth, when
this district appears to have come under the control of Populonia. This change in
political control can be linked to the network of fortified hilltops in the Scarlino, Vetu-
lonia and the Sassofortino areas, which was aimed at securing long-term control of
ores in the Val di Pecora and Val di Bruna.26
6 The Monti della Tolfa (Roma) mining district

A third district worthy of mention is Monti della Tolfa (Allumiere and Tolfa), in
northern Latium. Although our level of knowledge of mining in this area could be
improved, it is clear that the massive quantity of alunite deposits here was subject to
extensive open-air mining in the Renaissance, when quarries were controlled by the
Reverenda Camera Apostolica, the office in charge of the mining and trade activities
of the Holy See and that mining continued until the invention of artificial alunite in
the eighteenth century.
The impressive extant remains of quarries in the Monti della Tolfa district await
proper archaeological investigation. Surveys in the 1980s, however, shed light on
Medieval mining and metallurgy, which focused on the exploitation of copper and
lead sulfides with presumably concurrent activities to obtain iron from gossan depos-
its.27 In 2010, several ancient stone hammers were discovered in the waste material
of a seventeenth-century copper and lead sulfide mine at Poggio Malinverno, indicat-
ing the occurrence of mining activity between the Chalcolithic period and the Early
Bronze Age. A concentration of Proto-Villanovan sites in the alunitic and polymetallic
mining area, along with the presence of hoards at Tolfa and Coste del Marano, give
the general impression that there was a reasonable level of mining and metallurgical
activity in the Final Bronze Age, followed by a period in which the Etruscan relation-
ship with metallic and non-metallic ores is still unclear.28 From the eighth century
26 Dallai 2009b.
27 Brunori 1984; Zifferero 1996a. On the extraction, production, and trade of alum in antiquity, see
Borgard, Brun, and Picon 2005.
28 On the settlement system during the Recent Bronze Age and Final Bronze Age in the Monti della
Tolfa area, see di Gennaro 1988; Pacciarelli 2001, 71–114; Belardelli et al. 2007, 50–9. On the stone
hammers from Poggio Malinverno see Giardino and Steiniger 2011; Giardino et al. 2014. Contacts
between this mining district and Sardinia in the Bronze Age are highlighted by Lo Schiavo 2005b.

on, the local settlement system, which consisted of centers on tufa plateaus and
open sites, was more concerned with agriculture and cattle breeding than with the
exploitation of local ores. An absence of fortified hilltops (like the Monte La Tolfaccia
hilltop, abandoned in the mid seventh century), as well as a lack of open sites and
mineral waste near the seams, makes the working of ore highly doubtful; the recent
discovery of iron slag inside the walled coastal center of La Castellina del Marangone
(Santa Marinella) is insufficient to indicate hard mining in the Monti della Tolfa dis-
trict, as some of the ore is hematite from Elba mines.29
Very recent discoveries have suggested that mining activity in Etruria mineraria
ceased between the second half of the second century BCE and the first decades of the
first century CE. The metallurgical site at San Bennato (Rio Marina) on Elba was aban-
doned at the beginning of the first century BCE; the metallurgical workshops along
the coast of the Golfo di Baratti and the Golfo di Follonica (Poggetti Butelli and Prato
Ranieri) did not survive beyond the middle Republic; and the relationships between
settlements, mining areas and metallurgical sites in the Monti di Campiglia seem to
have ended in the first century BCE.30 Most local Italian mining appears to have been
reorganized in response to the mass production activities in the Empire’s western
provinces, which were rich in sulfide ores, such as Baetica and Hispania Tarraconen-
sis. Recent surveys in the Colline Metallifere demonstrate persistent mining and met-
allurgical activity—albeit on a different scale—between the end of the first century BCE
and the second century CE, which was aimed at obtaining copper, possibly silver, and
certainly iron from local gossan deposits. These surveys also bring to light records of
smelting processes at individual sites like Ficarella (Monterotondo Marittimo), which
stretch to the fourth century CE and offer local foundations for Early Medieval mining
and metallurgical activities from the fifth to the tenth centuries.31
29 On the Etruscan settlement system between Monti della Tolfa and Valle del Mignone see Zifferero
2000; for a critical assessment of the La Castellina del Marangone evidence, see Zifferero 2008, with
references; von Hase 2011.
30 Cucini Tizzoni and Tizzoni 1992; Casini 1993; Cambi, Cavari, and Mascione 2009, 221–30; Dallai
2009a, with references; Corretti and Firmati 2011, with references.
31 Dallai 2009a, with references; Dallai and Ponta 2009.

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e l’arcaismo, Atti del XXI Convegno di Studi Etruschi ed Italici, Sassari, Alghero, Oristano,
Torralba, 13–17.10.1998, 179–212. Pisa-Rome: Istituti Editoriali e Poligrafici Internazionali.
—. 2008. “Intervento in discussione.” In Preistoria e protostoria in Etruria. Paesaggi reali e paesaggi
mentali, edited by N. Negroni Catacchio, 94–96. Ricerche e scavi 8. Milan: Centro Studi di
Preistoria e Archeologia.
—. 2009. “Attività minerarie e trasferimento dei saperi metallurgici nell’alto Tirreno. Conoscenze
attuali e prospettive di ricerca.” In Materiali da costruzione e produzione del ferro. Studi
sull’economia populoniese fra periodo etrusco e romanizzazione, edited by F. Cambi, F. Cavari,
and C. Mascione, 149–56. Bari: Edipuglia.

Alessandro Corretti
26 The mines on the island of Elba
Abstract: The metal resources of the island of Elba have always been a relevant factor in the history
of the surrounding communities, down to recent times. Copper outcrops, though present on the
island, were too small to support a significant output, while the iron mines in eastern Elba were
renowned for their plenty and continued to be worked until 1981, supplying the entire Tyrrhenian
Sea area and beyond with iron. Control, exploitation, and trade of Elban iron influenced local set-
tlements and the environment and, on a wider scale, the economy and international politics. Most
archaeological evidence on the ancient mines was lost during modern exploitation. Chronological,
technical, and quantitative information on iron production on Elba can no longer be retrieved by
direct observation. It is therefore necessary to turn to indirect evidence. The appearance of Elban
iron ore (when a reliable attribution is possible) in dated contexts yields chronological hints,
together with the establishment of iron workshops at Populonia and the surrounding areas. A
structured and continuous exploitation seems traceable only to the late seventh century, possibly
in connection with foreign (Greek? Phoenician?) initiatives. The hypothesis of Populonian control
of the mines from the beginning is sensible but lacks positive evidence, as does the suggestion
of pan-Etruscan (mainly Caeretan) management. The “industrial building” at Populonia implies a
continuous input of Elban ore from the sixth century. Sixth–fifth century materials on Elba indicate
a shift of settlement toward the mining zone. After the Syracusan incursions in 453–452 a system of
hilltop fortresses was established probably by Populonia to protect the mines and the related settle-
ments. Romanization beginning in the early third century provoked a dramatic change in the area’s
iron industry. An impressive amount of smelting activity (which caused increased exploitation of
the Elba mines, possibly using slaves) covered the shores of Elba and the mainland with slag heaps
amounting on the island to more than 100,000 tons, dating from the late third to the first centuries.
The location of the workshops aims at the fullest exploitation of wood resources. Diodorus Siculus
gives a vivid picture of this intensive activity, which involved the whole Tyrrhenian area. By the first
century, mining and smelting were greatly reduced and limited to local needs. On Elba, ironwork-
ing sites gave way to luxurious villae. The memory of the glorious times survived in the works of
geographers (Pliny the Elder) and poets (Rutilius Namatianius).
Keywords: Elba, copper, iron, mines, smelting
1 A geomorphological sketch

In a schematic geomorphological description, Elba may be divided into three zones.
On the west, the huge granite spur of Monte Capanne, which rises 1,019 m above sea
level, is covered with extensive forests and contains several granite quarries, some
of which were active in Roman and medieval times. The center of the island (from
Marina di Campo to Portoferraio) lies between two isthmuses and is formed by a
system of low rises and hills with alluvial plains. The eastern zone stretches from
Capo Vita on the north to Monte Calamita on the south and is divided in two by the
isthmus of Mola. It consists of a range of steep, rocky cliffs where almost all the iron
deposits on the island occur. A reconstruction of the geological evolution through a
446 Alessandro Corretti
sequence of five units (“Trevisan’s complexes”) was proposed in the 1950s and has
recently been discussed and updated.1
2 Mines and metals

We deal here only with metals exploited in the ancient world, which for Elba means
copper and iron.2 A general reappraisal of mineral deposits on the island was pub-
lished in 19913 and is still the main reference.4
Copper exists on Elba as native metal, oxide, carbonate, and sulfide. Small cuprif-
erous veins occur all over the island, but Elba bears no major copper resources. Sug-
gestions by nineteenth century mining engineers5 to reopen an “ancient” copper mine
at Santa Lucia had no actual consequences. In fact, no copper has been excavated on
the island in modern times. From west to east, copper is found at Pomonte Ogliera –
Punta Massellone, Le Tombe – Fetovaia, Acquacalda, Monte Perone, Santa Lucia –
Colle Reciso – Monte Orello, Volterraio, Monte Calamita, and Cima del Monte.6 Other
records of veins of native copper or chalcopyrite mention Maciarello7 and several sites
around Pomonte (Buca del Rame [“Copper’s Cave”], San Bartolomeo).
Iron is found as oxides (hematite and magnetite), sulfides (pyrite), and hydrox-
ides (limonite, goethite) and occurs almost exclusively in the eastern part of the
island (Fig. 26.1a). A peculiar clay (bolo) was also collected in the iron mines and was
used as a medicine;8 healthful effects were credited to a mineral spring below the iron
mountain at Rio Marina.9
Beginning in 1853, several iron mines were opened or re-opened from Rio Albano
to Monte Calamita;10 before that, only the high-quality hematite deposits of Rio
Albano and Rio Marina had been exploited.11
1 A summary in Tanelli et al. 2001, 239–41.

2 For an insignificant amount of tin near San Piero in Campo, Tanelli 1989, 1414; on lead ores observed
near Rio Marina see Giardino 1995, 119.
3 Benvenuti, Guideri, and Mascaro 1991, 122–64.
4 Update in Tanelli et al. 2001.
5 Simonin 1858, 567; Jervis 1862, 60–61.
6 Benvenuti, Guideri, and Mascaro 1991.
7 Though Zecchini 2001, 193 reports iron concretions in and around the cave.
8 Pini 1777, 44.
9 The “Acqua Marziale di Rio”: Buzzegoli 1762; Pini 1777, 44–48; Jervis 1862, 45.
10 Fabri 1887, 11–12; see also Benvenuti, Guideri, and Mascaro 1991.
11 Fabri 1887, 11–12; Tanelli et al. 2001, 243.

26 The mines on the island of Elba 447
3 History of research
Ancient authors (e.g. Mir. ausc. 93) already realized that mineral exploitation on
the island had a long and complex history, but reliable evidence of ancient mining
on Elba began to be collected and discussed only in the eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries.12 True historical interest grew beside utilitarian aims. In fact, tracing the
exploitation of a mine back to remote times legitimated new investment:13 veins of ore
exploited by the “ancients” could be followed with modern mining methods, yield-
ing a successful enterprise.14 But while investigations on the mainland actually led
to the recognition of ancient and medieval excavations,15 on Elba ancient workings
remained largely unknown, due to uninterrupted activity in the mine of Rio, which
was carried out through open-pit digging beginning in the sixteenth century, and
later also with gunpowder.16 Old galleries were occasionally brought to light, but
none of them were conserved or scientifically documented.17 These caves are simply
referred to as “ancient”; sometimes an approximate length (1/4 mile) is given.18 The
ancient dumps near the mines were also exploited19 without any archaeological con-
trol.20 Other information derives from objects found among the slag heaps occasion-
ally excavated on Elba, again with almost no scientific recording of data.21
The growing importance of the iron mines of Elba in nineteenth- and twentieth-
century Italy was both economic and symbolic, connecting the future of the new
nation to its glorious past.22 In 1938, when all the mineral resources of Italy were put
under intense exploitation, a comprehensive volume traced the history of the mines
of Elba “since the Etruscans.”23
The recovery of slag at Populonia in the first decades of the twentieth century24
stimulated new multidisciplinary investigation of the mineral resources of ancient
Etruria.25 While evidence on the mainland since then has been the object of renewed
12 Mainly Pini 1777; see n. 17 below.

13 Vitali 1992; Francovich 1994.
14 Haupt 1847, 187–88.
15 E.g. Haupt 1847, 188–89; Simonin 1858, 561–62; a summary in Francovich 1994; Zifferero 2002.
16 Pini 1777, 51–52.
17 Scanty information occurs in Buzzegoli 1762, 17–18; Pini 1777, 59; Colt Hoare 1819, 18 (summary in
Vanagolli 1998, 48 n. 15; Corretti and Benvenuti 2001, 128–29).
18 Colt Hoare 1819, 18.
19 Recorded e.g. by Pini 1777, 34, 60, and sketched in his plan of the mine.
20 Cocchi 1865, 9; Mellini 1879.
21 Jervis 1862, 39–40; Mellini 1879; Fedeli 1983, 177–78.
22 On the mining industry in nineteenth and early twentieth century Italy see Pistolesi 2011.
23 Miniere e ferro 1938.
24 D’Achiardi 1927; Minto 1943; Pistolesi 2006.
25 Benvenuti, Guideri, and Mascaro 1991, 10 n. 4; Giardino 1995, 131 n. 49; Corretti and Benvenuti
2001, 128 n. 2.

interest, the iron mines of Elba—which were still active at that time—have received
less attention.
The discovery in the 1960s on the island of Ischia of a fragment of hematite26
stimulated new interest in ancient metal exploitation in Elba and Etruria. In fact,
excavations on Ischia were bringing about the recognition of the role of the Pithek-
oussan community (which did not comprise Euboeans only) as the starting point of
Greek colonization and trade in the West. The evidence from Ischia revealed a con-
nection between the mineral resources of central Italy (including Elba mines) and
Greek expansion in the Tyrrhenian Sea.27 Meetings,28 exhibitions,29 and reapprais-
als30 were therefore focused on Etruria Mineraria. Excavations at Populonia brought
to light a building of the sixth–early third centuries, where Elban iron ore was smelted
and worked.31 Excavations32 and surveys33 were also carried out on Elba, extending
to the Middle Ages,34 which allowed a careful reexamination of archaeological data
published in local contributions.35
Research carried out in recent decades at and around Populonia by a multi-insti-
tutional team has been widening our knowledge of ancient Populonia,36 and throw-
ing light on the phase of copper metallurgy that preceded iron exploitation.37
On Elba, a late Republican (third–first centuries) ironworking site was discovered
at Cavo (Rio Marina) in 1999;38 a mold of the hearth is displayed in the Antiquarium
of Rio nell’Elba, along with slag, ore, and tuyère fragments from other Roman and
medieval ironworking sites.
Mineral exploitation and human settlement on the island of Elba from antiquity
to the Middle Ages are currently being investigated by a multidisciplinary team (the
“Aithale project”).39
26 Corretti and Benvenuti 2001, 134 n. 37, with previous literature.

27 Main literature in Corretti and Benvenuti 2001, 134–35; for Ischia Nijboer 1998, 165–66.
28 E.g. Istituto di Studi Etruschi ed Italici 1981; First Iron 1988.
29 Albore Livadie 1985; Pancrazzi 1985.
30 Fedeli 1983, 177–78; update in Fedeli 1993; Romualdi 1993.
31 Martelli 1981; Nijboer 1998, 190–91; Bonamici 2007.
32 Relevant for the present issue are two Classical and Late Etruscan hill forts at Monte Castello and
Castiglione di San Martino (Maggiani 1981; 2008; Pancrazzi 1985).
33 Corretti 1997; Cambi 2004.
34 Excavation of an iron workshop at Monte Serra (Rio nell’Elba): Martin 1994.
35 Zecchini 1978, 2001.
36 See the series Materiali per Populonia; an update on ancient quarries and mines around Populonia
and on Elba in Cambi, Cavari, and Mascione 2009.
37 Chiarantini et al. 2009; Chiarantini and Benvenuti 2009.
38 Firmati, Arrighi, and Principe 2006; Corretti and Firmati 2011; Maggiani 2015, 365.
39 See Alderighi et al. 2012; Cambi, Corretti, and Pagliantini 2015.

4 Scattered remarks on metal exploitation

and production on Elba
4.1 Copper
The literary allusion to copper mining occurring in remote times (Mir. ausc. 93) is par-
alleled by the archaeological evidence. In fact, the presence of people of the Ene-
olithic culture of Rinaldone in the heart of the mining area of Elba (Grotta di San
Giuseppe, Rio Marina)40 testifies to their precocious interest in the metal resources of
the island, with pride of place, of course, going to copper.
Human presence intensified from the Late Bronze to the Early Iron Age, accord-
ing to several bronze hoards from the island,41 which were found in close relationship
with copper outcrops (Fig. 26.1a), though the latter are of minor extent.42
Bronze objects and burial rites show parallels both with the mainland and with
Sardinia and Corsica,43 suggesting that people traveling between the islands and the
Italian peninsula played a major role in the spread of metallurgical knowledge in Elba.
Even the smallest chalcopyrite outcrop would not escape the expert eye of pros-
pectors acquainted with copper metallurgy in Sardinia or the Campigliese; indeed,
analyses on bronze objects from Cima del Monte testify for their Sardinian origin.44
The small amount of available metal suggests that copper exploitation on Elba played
only a supplementary role beside other activities.45
This scheme is reflected in the Pseudo-Aristotelian text Mir. ausc. 93.46 The chron-
ological sequence starts with copper production for local needs, followed by a consid-
erable pause and, finally, by the paradoxon (tale of marvels) of iron exploitation in the
same mine. Actually, copper veins do occur on Elba among iron ore deposits (e.g. at
Monte Calamita or Rio), though never in large amounts. The Pseudo-Aristotelian idea
of a “real” copper mine is therefore influenced by the later, impressive appearance of
iron mines and possibly by the abundance of copper in Etruria Mineraria as a whole.
It has been suggested that Etruria controlled and took advantage of Elba’s copper
resources, while iron production was directly managed by Populonia.47 Self-suffi-
40 Cremonesi 2001; Ducci 2001, 2007.

41 Delpino 1981; Fedeli 1983, 179–80; Camporeale 1985, 46–47; Giardino 1995, 119–22; Ducci 2001,
221–22; Cygielman et al. 2015, 281 n. 61.
42 Delpino 1981, 270–76; Corretti and Pancrazzi 2001, 270–76.
43 Evidence in Delpino 1981, 272; Giardino 1995, 122; Zifferero 2002; Milletti 2012; Cygielman et al. 2015.
44 Milletti 2012, 210–11; 245–46; on the analyses on bronze objects from Cima del Monte Alderighi
et al. 2013, 80–81.
45 A pattern well described in Nijboer 1998, 136, 189.
46 Corretti 2004, 272–73.
47 Colonna 1981.

Fig. 26.1: Map of the metal resources on the island of Elba

ciency based on Elba’s copper outcrops makes sense only if it referred to the needs
of the inhabitants of the island; it seems therefore possible that the heavily abridged
Pseudo-Aristotelian paragraph distinguished between a (remote) time when Elban
people directly managed the copper on the island, retrieving enough of it to satisfy
their needs, and the time of the author of the tale (Timaeus?), when iron mining was
the bulk of mineral production on the island, under Populonian rule. Two features
should be noted: the long time between the exhaustion of the copper mine and the
reopening of the iron mine; and no mention of the inexhaustibility of iron mines (a
major theme in later ancient literature), even though the tale would offer an appropri-
ate context.
4.2 Iron
4.2.1 The Etruscan period
Since ancient mines and dumps at Rio have been lost in modern exploitation, indirect
information is needed to date the initial phases of iron production.
Tracing back the first appearance of (true) Elban hematite in reliable archaeologi-
cal contexts is a sensible method, though ore provenance should always be controlled
through specific analyses. Recent research has discovered that high tin and tungsten
contents mark the hematite from Elba, thus yielding a tool for tracing the diffusion of
Elban iron ore.48 Elban hematite has recently been discovered in reliably Palaeolithic
contexts near Livorno and near Lake Bilancino (Florence), of course not for metallur-
gical use.49 Ore from the lowest levels in the “industrial building” at Populonia dates
to the first half of the sixth century.50 Hematite from Pisa51 and San Piero a Grado52
comes from late seventh–early sixth century contexts; a slightly lower chronology
is suggested for the iron ore at Rondelli–Follonica.53 On Ischia the ore from “Scarico
Gosetti” comes from a disturbed context, and the slag found in an eighth-century
layer in the necropolis of Lacco Ameno cannot be linked with certainty to Elban ore.54
Iron objects from Populonia testify to the spread of iron technology in the area55
and to the exploitation of local resources (possibly including the ore deposits of Monte
Valerio, on the mainland). Iron was not common in the early phases of the necropolis
48 Benvenuti et al. 2013.

49 Sammartino 2009, 49 fig. 5; Aranguren et al. in press.
50 Bonamici 2007; Bonamici 2015, 411.
51 Bonamici 1989; Bonamici 2015, 411, 414–15 for further references.
52 Bruni 2001.
53 Aranguren et al. 2004.
54 Corretti and Benvenuti 2001, 134–35, 142–43.
55 Fedeli 1983, 178; Nijboer 1998, 190–91.

of Populonia,56 but it was used for ornamental purposes (iron inlay in bronze sheet)
as late as the middle of the seventh century.57 Other parts of Italy (e.g. Calabria) were
more precocious, adopting iron for utilitarian purposes as early as the ninth century.58
The existence of large iron ore deposits on Elba does not seem to have stimulated an
autonomous early transition to iron-based metallurgy in the area.59 External influ-
ence may therefore be traced through several distinct—possibly interconnected—
paths, involving Greek (Euboean-Pithekoussan), Phoenician, and Sardinian prospec-
tors and traders, in the context of a well-developed local copper-based metallurgy.60
The stratigraphy of Porto Baratti at Populonia, where slag accumulated for cen-
turies, may enlighten the early phases of iron exploitation. At the bottom of a cliff
running along the seaside,61 large slag cakes deriving from copper smelting were
recorded, dating to the ninth–eighth centuries.62 Atop this layer, some iron slag
appeared mixed with copper slag, earth, and charcoal, with a C14 chronology from the
eighth and seventh centuries. Copper slag disappears, and iron slag becomes more
frequent in the upper layers.63 These data will be verified through further investiga-
tions in other portions of the slag deposit at Porto Baratti.
Even admitting a late-eighth-century date for the “discovery” of the iron deposits
of Rio,64 positive evidence of systematic exploitation is consistently later.65
The status of the iron mines in these early phases is obscure. Evidence of a struc-
tured community on Elba—able to manage the local metal resources—is elusive.
Populonia is said to manage the “new” iron mine in Mir. ausc. 93;66 garment acces-
sories from seventh–sixth century tombs at Madonna del Monte (Monte Capanne,
Elba) point to Populonian settlers.67 However, political control of the island (and of
the mines) by Populonia at this early time needs stronger evidence.68 It is certain that
in the early sixth century, Populonia created an industrial complex for ironworking at
Baratti, which presupposes a continuous supply of iron ore.
56 Acconcia and Milletti 2009, 144.

57 Corretti and Benvenuti 2001, 134 n. 4.
58 Nijboer 1998, 160–61; Corretti and Benvenuti 2001, 130.
59 Corretti and Benvenuti 2001, 132; Acconcia and Milletti 2009, 143.
60 Corretti and Benvenuti 2001, 139–40; Zifferero 2002, 2009; Acconcia and Milletti 2009, 143; Milletti
2012, 237 ff.; Cygielman et al. 2015, 289–90.
61 Acconcia and Cambi 2009; Chiarantini et al. 2009.
62 Chiarantini et al. 2009, 1632.
63 Chiarantini et al. 2009, 1633.
64 Corretti and Benvenuti 2001, 135, n. 42.
65 Not before the late seventh or sixth century: Nijboer 1998, 165; Acconcia and Cambi 2009, 171;
Cambi 2009, 224; Chiarantini and Benvenuti 2009, 208.
66 Corretti 2004.
67 Maggiani 2006, 440–43.
68 But see Acconcia and Milletti 2009, 144.

Several sparse hints thus converge to indicate a Populonian initiative in improv-

ing iron production at least as early as the sixth century. This may be due, of course,
to internal developments at Populonia that moved the balance of the local economy
toward a manufacturing industry, (and iron production ad Populonia and elsewhere
in Etruria has been recently connected to aristocratic groups since the first half of the
sixth century)69, but external influence should not be excluded. It is worth noting
that the beginning of regular iron production coincides with the acme of Phocaean
and Ionian emporia in the West. This is the time of the first known mention of Elba in
Greek sources—by Hecataeus of Miletus. Phocaeans in particular were credited with
“opening” the sea routes of the western Mediterranean (Hdt. 1.163), and it is tempting
to connect the location of Elban iron mines—almost directly on the sea—to the high
grade of Elban hematite (which made the raw ore trade profitable),70 and the traces of
Ionian (Phocaean?) influence in the material culture of Archaic Populonia.71
We cannot guess at the amount of iron worked.72 The quantity of slag dated with
certainty to the Archaic period (from Populonia “Edificio Industriale,” Rondelli, and
a few other sites in the neighborhood, but not yet Elba)73 appears significantly smaller
(on the order of hundreds of tons) than the huge heaps from Roman times (hundreds
of thousands of tons).74 Though small, in the sixth–fifth centuries, several ironwork-
ing sites were already spread along the Tyrrhenian Sea. We do not know how much
they relied on Elban iron and/or other sources of iron,75 and only analyses of ore and
slag will give an answer. This is the case, for example, of the iron ore found in a fifth-
century context at Genoa and at Aleria (Corsica), which is generally identified as
Elban hematite without specific analyses.76
There is a shift of the human settlement on Elba towards the eastern, iron-mining
area in the sixth and fifth centuries (Fig. 26.1b–c). An Archaic bronze statuette of an
offerer,77 together with some of the Classical tombs so far discovered on Elba, attest to
a moderate local wealth, possibly connected to iron mines.78 From the second half of
the fifth century, a system of hilltop fortresses was established on the island, probably
69 Bonamici 2015, 415–6.

70 Nijboer 1998, 165.
71 Corretti and Benvenuti 2001, 141 nos. 83, 84; Maras 2015.
72 For a calculation of ore excavated before the nineteenth century see Fabri 1887, 1–2; Cipriani and
Tanelli 1983, 254.
73 Zifferero 2002; Ponta 2006, 285–86.
74 Corretti and Benvenuti 2001, 142. Estimates of the amount of iron slag at Populonia vary
dramatically: for a concise discussion see Nijboer 1998, 191 n. 305; Pistolesi 2006.
75 Aranguren et al. 2004; according to Nijboer 1998, 162–65, local bog iron ore was treated at Satricum.
76 Corretti and Benvenuti 2001, 142–43.
77 Albore Livadie 1985.
78 Maggiani 1981; Corretti and Pancrazzi 2001; Maggiani 2006; Rafanelli 2007, 69–70.

under Populonian control79 and mainly in the most populous, central-eastern part of
the island. This suggests an increased importance of iron exploitation, which became
a strategic resource in a wider Tyrrhenian area. At Populonia, smelting and refining
activities were carried out in the “industrial quarter” from the sixth to the early third
centuries80 and near the Baratti shore, where recent excavations have brought to light
smithing forges dating from the fourth to the second centuries.81
The iron mines of Elba may have been the real target of the double naval expedi-
tion by Syracuse in 453–452 (Diod. Sic. 11.88.4–5), though Diodorus refers only to the
repression of Etruscan piracy.82 The number of ships (sixty) and the distance from
Sicily long remained unparalleled in Syracusan history. This highlights the impor-
tance attributed by the Sicilian polis to the direct control of Elba and its iron mines,
a resource almost totally lacking in Sicily. A further expedition under Dionysius the
Elder in 384 supports this view. The anecdote of the Sicilian merchant (in Arist. Pol.
1259a)—the first documented attempt at an iron monopoly, under Dionysius the
Elder—gives the figure of fifty talents to indicate the value of the iron purchased.
This number has been seen as the amount of iron annually bought by Syracuse,83
thus giving a figure for the annual output of the main source of iron ore, the Elba
mines. This statement should be reexamined, however. Traces of Syracusans on Elba
are scanty but suggestive: the Portus Longus (Peutinger Table 2.4–5)—Porto Longone,
later Porto Azzurro—mirrors Greek place names in northeastern Sicily;84 the myth
of the Argonauts on Elba has also been connected with Corinthian (i.e., Syracusan)
traditions;85 the “Hellenes hoi ten neson oikountes…” mentioned by Mir. ausc. 105
(Timaeus?) were perhaps the descendants of the Syracusan garrison.86
4.2.2 The Roman period
Traces of a change in the iron industry at Populonia after the Roman conquest (early
third century) may be seen in the abandonment of the “industrial quarter” at Baratti87
and in the establishment of several large ironworking sites on the Tyrrhenian coast88
and on Elba. Since these slag heaps were almost totally destroyed during slag-retrieval
79 Cambi 2004; Maggiani 2008; Corretti 2011; Cambi, Di Paola, and Pagliantini 2013; Maggiani 2015.
80 Bonamici 2007; 2015.
81 Cambi 2009, 173.
82 Colonna 1981.
83 Pais 1893, 347–48 n. 3; Corretti 2004, 274–75.
84 Corretti 2009, with previous literature.
85 Most recently Corretti 2005, with previous literature.
86 Colonna 1981; Corretti, Cambi, and Pagliantini 2015.
87 Acconcia and Cambi 2009, 172–73.
88 Ponta 2006, 286–87.

operations in the 1930s and later,89 only an approximate date (early second–early first
century) can be given for this massive ironworking phase.90
More than 100,000 tons of slag were recovered on Elba;91 on the mainland, the
ironworking site at Poggetti Butelli near Follonica is estimated to have held around
500,000 tons, while the amount of slag at Populonia is debated but seems to be con-
sistently larger.92
This means that iron ore excavation on Elba underwent a dramatic increase under
Roman rule, possibly through greater use of slave manpower. A clear explanation for
this change continues to elude us, although it seems likely that Populonian control of
the Elba mines weakened,93 and private enterprises (publicani) made free use of the
mineral and forest resources of the island and the mainland. Possibly, one of these
entrepreneurs was that Aulus Vettius who scratched his name inside a third century
BCE black glazed bowl that was found in the sea at Cavo, near the iron mines and in
front of an ironworking site.94
Tomb assemblages in the Hellenistic-Roman cemeteries of Elba suggest that both
slaves and freedmen were employed in the mines and related jobs.95 New ironworking
sites were created up and down Elba’s coast (Fig. 26.1c),96 even at the western end.97
These factories were located on the sea, near an anchorage for ore transport facilities.
They relied on water from small streams flowing nearby, and usually had a valley
behind them that furnished charcoal for metallurgical furnaces. Roof tiles, ampho-
rae, and ceramics found among the slag during the surveys and the excavation at San
Bennato and San Giovanni98 hint at permanent settlements.
The location of these ironworking sites aimed at the fullest exploitation of the
island’s forests. In fact, the only factor limiting the amount of iron that could be
produced was the quantity of available wood and charcoal. Woods in the area were
severely damaged by this large-scale manufacture, which impressed the ancient
writers. Diodorus Siculus (5.13.1–2) devotes the entire chapter on Elba to the ironwork-
ing process, describing the large amount of iron available and exploited, the crushing
89 Corretti 1997; Baiocco et al. 1990; Pistolesi 2006; Pistolesi 2013.

90 Follonica: Baiocco et al. 1990; territory of Populonia: Cambi 2009, 227; Elba: Maggiani 1981;
Corretti 1997; Zecchini 2001, 127–38; Corretti and Firmati 2011; Alderighi et al. 2012.
91 Corretti 1997; Zecchini 2001, 127–38; Pistolesi 2013. Estimates are based on records collected in
person in the late 1950s by the Swedish researcher John Nihlen, who interviewed workers involved in
slag retrieval operations.
92 Pistolesi 2006, 22–23.
93 Corretti 2004, 284.
94 Maggiani 2015, 362–3
95 Rafanelli 2007; Firmati 2009.
96 And/or older ones were enlarged (archaeomagnetism suggests a date of between 550 and 350 BCE
for the early furnace at Cavo: Firmati, Arrighi, and Principe 2006).
97 Pomonte and Patresi: Corretti 1997.
98 Firmati, Arrighi, and Principe 2006; Corretti and Firmati 2011; Alderighi et al. 2012.

and smelting of ore, the technical properties of the furnaces, and the fact that the met-
allurgical treatment was limited to smelting, producing unrefined iron in the form of
large “sponges.” A complex network of factories and trading points that spread across
the Tyrrhenian Sea but was centered on Puteoli (Pozzuoli), brought Elban iron—in
the form of finished objects—almost everywhere. This system distributed the envi-
ronmental99 and economic problems connected with charcoal production to a wider
area, since every step of the ironworking process (from smelting to refining to forging
and shaping) was located in a different place.
The establishment of this operational chain dates at least to the Second Punic
War, when Scipio (in 205) asked his Etruscan allies for the raw materials to build
and arm a fleet for his expedition to Africa. Populonia gave iron, while weapons and
implements—possibly made of the very same iron—were presented by Arretium (Livy
28.45.15–16).100
Analyses of slag from Roman ironworking sites on Elba confirm that the metal-
lurgical treatment of iron ore was limited to smelting.101 At Populonia, coastal excava-
tion has brought to light some refining forges dating to the fourth–beginning of the
second centuries, while a huge accumulation of smelting slag occurs immediately
after.102 The impact of mining and metallurgy on the Italian environment, the fear of
further slave rebellions after Spartacus, and attention to sparing the resources of Italy
for future needs moved the Senate to promulgate a senatusconsultum103 in the first
century forbidding mineral exploitation in Italy. At the same time, several authors
mention the iron mines of Elba for the paradoxon of their inexhaustibility. Elba was
Italian soil, but Strabo (5.2.6) saw active Elban iron mines (though ironworking on the
island had ceased), with the ore laded directly from the mine and brought to Populo-
nia for smelting. Elban iron mines were not definitively closed, possibly because iron
had a special status for strategic reasons, or because they really were supposed to be
nearly inexhaustible.104
4.2.3 Epilogue
We do not know how long the Elban iron mines remained active after Strabo’s obser-
vation. Excavations at Baratti-Populonia clearly show an end to large-scale metallur-
gical activity by the middle of the first century105 and a transition to a modest produc-
99 Williams 2009.
100 Most recently Corretti 2009; Maggiani 2015.
101 Alderighi et al. 2012.
102 Cambi 2009, 224.
103 Corretti 2004; Cambi 2009, 226–27; Camporeale 2013.
104 Camporeale 1985, 34; Corretti 2004, 282–84; Cambi 2009, 228–29.
105 Acconcia and Cambi 2009.

tion system based on villae that was aimed at local needs.106 The routes of the iron
trade—at least those that led to the Roman army—no longer crossed the waters of
Elba, but followed the Rhône toward the German limes.107 It is suggestive that steel
implements used in Vetulonia were purchased in Noricum in the first century CE.108
Though Virgil (Aen. 10.173), Silius Italicus (6.613–16), and Pliny the Elder (HN 3.81,
34.142) still mention the iron mines, they refer to past ages, or use a literary topos
associating Elba with ferri metalla even though these were no longer being worked.
Rutilius Namatianus (1.351–66) praises the poor, honest, and fertile iron of Elba as the
symbol of an old world that had collapsed under the blows of the barbarians or had
been weakened by the Christians. The mines had entered legend.
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Fiorenzo Catalli
27 Coins and mints
Abstract: The production of coins in Etruria is linked to the individual city-state, following a model
imported from Greek civilization. The Greek model is the Syracusan, for both typology and weight,
and was the basis for the oldest coin production in the areas of Vulci and Populonia between the end
of the sixth and beginning of the fifth century bce, and then continued at irregular times and rhythms.
The bronze Italic and Latin coins of a calibrated weight, with denominations in duodecimal divisions,
on the other hand, served as the model for the mints of Etruscan centers, from Volterra to Tarquinia
and perhaps Arezzo-Cortona-Chiusi in periods when Roman coinage became familiar.
Keywords: Populonia, Vulci, Tarquinia, Volterra, Arezzo
Introduction
In Etruria, the production of coinage developed within individual city-states, follow-
ing the Greek model. The use of coins in commercial exchange certainly came about
later than in the Greek world, but a century earlier than in the Roman world. Nonethe-
less, as regards Etruscan coins, we must ascertain the quantity and the continuity of
production across the different periods.
The earliest experiments with coinage are found in the economic and cultural
environments of Populonia and Vulci. As for Populonia, the historical and archaeo-
logical evidence agree that it was fully involved in the maritime traffic on the Tyr-
rhenian Sea in the mid sixth century BCE, thanks to its hegemonic position in the
exploitation of metalliferous resources not only on the island of Elba but also in the
hinterland of Campiglia Marittima.
Vulci’s commercial role—which developed throughout the sixth century and
during much of the fifth—must be stressed as a center of receipt and transshipment of
luxury goods toward neighboring Etruscan centers and those of more inland Etruria.
The Vulci area is assigned four different series of silver coins with the legends Thezi
and Thezle (produced on a base weighing 5.80 g), showing a winged Gorgon on the
run, a sphinx, and a hippocamp, for a production dated—not very confidently—to
the first half of the fifth century. The names in the legends, rather than being derived
from names of cities, could be derived from the gentilics of persons responsible for
the quality of the production and representing the issuing authority—that is, the city-
state—itself. In Etruscan coinage some standard weights have been used (Table 1).
464 Fiorenzo Catalli
Table 1.: Standard weights used by Etruscan cities
Standard weight Theoretical Value Series Chronology

weight
Asia Minor g 5,80 unit and two Thezi-Thezle First half 5th cent.
units BCE
Euboean- attic g 8,7 From 1 to 10 Gorgon’s head X Half 5th cent.

units BCE
Euboean- attic g 17,44 unit,2/3 and Wild boar, 5th cent.

1/4 Chimera, Sea lion, BCE
Lion’s head
Euboean- attic g 17,44 from 1 to 20 units Gorgon’s head, First half 3rd cent.
XX BCE
Roman libra g 293,26 duodecimal Tarquinia Late 4th-early 3rd cent.

BCE
Roman libra g 206, 66 duodecimal Heavy series of First half 3rd cent.
the wheel and BCE
heavy series of
the sacrifice
Roman libra g 151,60 duodecimal Volterra and light First half 3rd cent.
series of the wheel BCE
1 Populonia
In the case of Populonia, the first experiment with coinage consisted of small denomi-
nations in silver (supposed weight of 0.69 g), which were found, together with a small
idol and bars of the same metal, in a hoard near the walls of Volterra in 1868. Of the
sixty-five coins found, a small number have recently been judged to be the product
of the Greek city of Massalia and a large number a product of Populonia itself, con-
firming the existence of active commercial traffic with the entire Etruscan Tyrrhenian
coast from the end of the sixth to the beginning of the fifth century.1
After a period of inactivity that lasted a couple of decades, Populonia turned
to striking other coins in silver, some of which are linked to the old base weight of
5.80 g, while others were produced on a new base weight derived from the Euboean-
Attic stater (= tetradrachm) of 17.44 g, a standard spread through southern Italy by the
Greek colonies on Sicily. To the first group are assigned two series of various values
1 Cristofani Martelli 1976.

27 Coins and mints 465
featuring either a lion’s head or a lion with a sea monster’s tail (Colour plate 1); to the
second, other series featuring wild boar (Colour plate 2) and chimera (Colour plate 3).
All the series have one blank side that bears no mark at all.
Limited production restricted to high values and a restricted area of circulation
are thus the characteristics of the first experiments with money in the Etruscan cities,
similar to what had happened in the Greek cities of Greece itself and the colonies of
Magna Graecia and Sicily, which had provided the very idea of money.2 This produc-
tion cannot be justified by the needs of domestic or international commerce, in com-
parison with the territory of each city-state. For this early period, a few scholars have
suggested that the production of coins was dictated by a policy of acquisition and
payment within gentilic groups rather than within a governmental authority.
The oldest Etruscan public coinage, again linked to Populonia, seems to be rep-
resented by a series of various values in silver and gold, among which is the example
with the Gorgon’s head and a denomination marked as X (Colour plate 4). An example
of this series in silver has been found near Como in an archaeological stratum securely
dated to the third quarter of the fifth century (450–425).3
The dating confirms earlier intuitions derived from notes on historical events in
the city. Intensive metallurgical activity in Populonia, in fact, really intensified in the
fifth and fourth centuries such that in the middle of the fourth century, Populonia had
established a monopoly on the production and export of iron from the island of Elba.4
The development of an internal market with the associated expenses and payments
might have favored recourse to money, which by this time was not limited only to high
values but provides examples of low values in reasonable quantity.
A series in gold consisting of three denominations valued 50, 25, and 12.5 features
the design of a lion’s head with gaping jaws (Colour plate 5). With a nearly perfect
correspondence of weights and values, this series corresponds with a gold series from
Syracuse from the period of the tyrant Dionysius I (405–367), which would provide a
contemporary date for the Etruscan pieces.5 Other values in gold of various designs,
featuring male and female heads, the Gorgon head, and the hippocamp, seem to be
part of the same system linked to the Populonian environment.
After an interval of time that we are not yet in a position to specify, Populonia
again began to produce silver and bronze coins with a group of issues numerically
more consistent and design articulated more logically. The most common value (more
than 1,000 examples of some forty different coins) is the silver stater with the Gorgon’s
head, with a makeup quite similar to the preceding but marked with the value XX
(Colour plate 6). The reverse shows various designs that are often accompanied by a
2 Stazio 1978; 1985.

3 de Marinis 1987.
4 See chapters 25 Zifferero and 26 Corretti.
5 Hackens 1976.

legend with the name in the form Pupluna or Puplana. The precise correspondence of
the weights with the older series, but with a different sign of value, suggests deval-
uation by halving the value of the denomination, the motivation of which remains
unknown.
There are two other silver series with the same signs of value. The first features
a beautiful helmeted three-quarters head of Athena, with the legend Pupluna on the
reverse, and the second, a full-face head of Hercle-Heracles capped by a lion skin and
either a club or no design on the reverse (Colour plate 7). At least the head of Menrva-
Athena finds an exact typological and chronological comparison with a similar type,
which appears on the tetradrachm of the mint of Syracuse, signed in the die by Euclei-
das and assigned to the last years of the fifth century.6
This phase of production in Populonia is characterized by a wider and lively cir-
culation of coins. Indubitable evidence is a few hoards found in the territory directly
dependent on the city, which is closely connected with the ever-greater involvement
of money in the social and economic life of Populonia. Confirming this, in the area
of the same mint, are some series minted in bronze featuring the legend Pupluna or
Pufluna, with the head of a god and each god’s respective symbols (Menrva-Athena,
owl; Turms-Hermes, caduceus; Hercle-Heracles, bow, arrows, and club; Sethlans-
Hephaestus, hammer and tongs). These also reflect the reduction in weight and
various chronological periods, though they are never very far from the middle of the
third century.
A dozen series minted in bronze are characterized by reverses with punched
figures (Colour plate 8), a peculiarity that places the series in a group by itself but
still within the field of Etruscan—and although the date of circulation is yet to be con-
firmed, more precisely Populonian—coinage. Such comparison of design and weight
appears to show parallelism between some denominations of this Etruscan produc-
tion (various distinct denominations of the signs of value are distinguished, from 1
to 100 unit) (Colour plate 9) with similarities to the Syracusan coinage of the time of
Timoleon (345–335), a comparison that might suggest a possible absolute chronology.
2 Tarquinia and Volterra

In line with the Italic tradition of cast bronze coinage,7 some other Etruscan centers
issued cast series of exact weight in various values, assigned according to the duodec-
imal division of the pound. It seems right to attribute an anepigraphic series—which
survives by way of a small number of examples—to the city of Tarquinia, on the basis
6 Hackens 1976.
7 Catalli 2004.

of its discovery in the territory and from the clear comparison between the designs of
the coins (wild boar’s head and the letter Alpha), and the subjects of the wall painting
of the Tomba dei Pinie (Giglioli Tomb) at Tarquinia, which dates to the last decades of
the fourth century—in any case, no later than 300 (Colour plate 40). The progenitor,
Vel Pinies, might have held the post of magistrate (his magistral insignia are depicted
hanging on the walls of this tomb) responsible for the issue. This is entirely in line
with the historical fortunes of the city, which after an exceptional dominance over a
vast territory, saw a phase of slow but steady decline beginning in the middle of the
fourth century, brought about by Rome’s ever-increasing interference. To be specific,
the armed conflict with Rome took place in the mid and late fourth century (351–308),
until the definitive capitulation of the Etruscan city in 281, the same year when Tar-
quinia saw part of its territory confiscated (see chapter 37 Marcone).
Volterra’s coinage can be placed a few decades later. It was divided into three dif-
ferent series, with denominations from the dupondius to the ounce, and documented
by a over 600 examples that have survived. All the denominations with their respec-
tive indications of value show a youthful two-faced head (Culsans in Etruscan) and
the legend in Etruscan letters Velathri. This minting must coincide with the period of
great development of the city’s artisanry, which was closely connected both with the
growth of the urban population and the extension of the territory, which was politi-
cally and culturally dependent on the city.8
The association with other classes of materials and the discovery of Volterran
coinage document its presence for the entire third century, but production might have
ceased during the First Punic War. The data in our possession document the persis-
tence of such examples in a family’s possession even during the chronological period
in which Roman coinage was already in use in markets throughout Etruria.
3 Other cities
Other series of coins cast in bronze were produced in centers in interior northern
Etruria (Arezzo, Cortona, and Chiusi) based on two different pounds, 151.60 g and
204.66 g, the lighter of which is the same as that used in the Volterra mint (Colour
plate 10).
The first five series features a wheel on the obverse, and either the same type of
wheel or a battle-axe, a krater, an anchor, or an amphora on the reverse. Two other
series feature the design of an ancient wheel on the obverse, like that which appears
on a silver series of one unit attributed to Populonia and either the same ancient wheel
or three crescents on the reverse. The last series has another common design for the
8 Catalli 1976.

obverse and one for the reverse: an augur’s head facing forward with the typical cap,
axe, and hammer, instruments used in the propitiatory sacrifice (Colour plate 11).
Both the anchor series and the battle-axe series would seem to complement two other
series in bronze but struck with weights and marks of value identifying them as an
ounce, a half-ounce, and a quarter-ounce. Any attempts to attribute an individual
series to a specific center on the basis of letters of a particular alphabet have not yet
yielded the hoped-for results, but the areas of greatest interest remain the Elsa Valley
and the Chiana Valley.
For the best definitions of these cast bronze series, it is indispensible to refer to
what some of the cities and communities of central Italy (Ariminum, Firmum, Hatria,
Vestini, Luceria, Venusia, Ausculum, Tuder, Iguvium, and Rome itself) underwent to
verify relations of dependency or provenience of the weight units used from time to
time and reconstructed by calculating the theoretical weight for each series.9
As for the two different pounds identified in the study of each example’s weight,
it seems more logical to believe that they were two pounds of Etruscan origin, and
that one might be derived from the other by reduction, rather than imagining an
exclusively Roman provenience in a general view of the dependence of all Etruscan
and Italic coin production on the Roman model.
It is clear enough for the production of money coined in gold, silver, and bronze,
that influences are to be sought in the Greek environment of Magna Graecia and,
above all, of Sicily, from which the very idea of money arrived. As for the production
of coins cast in bronze, the same is also true of other Italic centers in deference to the
Italic, Etruscan, and Latin practice of using bronze-copper as a medium of exchange
in unshaped chunks or in the form of ingots or finished products, including coins that
in multiples could reach a weight of several hundred grams.
In the group of coins with the legend Vatl, attributed to the mint at Vatluna-Ve
tulonia, the series featuring a man’s head on one side with the reverse either blank or
with a caduceus, which seems to be the oldest that has been found, can be compared
stylistically with the depictions that appear on Etruscan red-figure ceramics of the
Clusium-Volaterrae Group, from the end of the fourth century. There is also a denomi-
nation with half the value in a varied series with a male head capped by a conical
helmet, and on the reverse, an oar or a rudder. Another series also has two denomina-
tions—sestante and oncia—each with the same design: a male head capped with the
remains of a sea monster on the obverse, and, on the reverse, a trident flanked by two
dolphins. The findspots of coins with the legend Vatl mainly identify a Tyrrhenian
circulation, in the territories of Populonia and Vetulonia, in the service of an internal
market equipped with limited possibilities of expansion. Vetulonia’s entire experi-
9 Thurlow and Vecchi 1979.

ence with money is confined to between the end of the fourth and the first half of the
third century.10
Three series of coins show a legend Peithesa, which is not possible to match to
any name of an ancient center, but rather to a gentilic Peithe-, which is found through-
out the territory of Chiusi. The series have the same reverse, an owl standing with
closed wings, and different obverses, a head of Turms-Hermes, Menrva-Athena, or
Aplu-Apollo.
Two other series that are anepigraphic, but definitely from the Etruscan sphere,
feature designs of the head of a black African accompanied by an elephant (Colour
plate 12) and a male head accompanied by a running fox-like dog (Colour plate 13).
For all these series, the findspots permit them to be attributed to northern inland
Etruria during a period that extends to as late as the end of the third century.
Among our uncertainties, there are some scarce examples with the Etruscan
legends Curt, Metl, or Vercnas which, as for Peithesa, cannot be referred to names
of cities but which, while they should not be regarded as the actual names of the
subjects depicted, can be matched to names of gentilics of persons, perhaps those
responsible for their monetary production.
Finally, the 1985 find of a hoard of eight coins near Lucca has reopened the debate
on the possible existence of a mint at Lucca itself, to which to attribute production,
certainly limited, of coins displaying the hippocamp. The town of Pisa could also have
operated a mint, albeit briefly, whose activity might coincide with the first decades of
the third century,11 during which the other major nearby mints—Volterra and espe-
cially Populonia—produce well-evidenced coins with the respective Etruscan names.
The choice of some designs in the dies used for Etruscan coins has attracted the
attention of scholars who have sought derivations and explanations of the various
cases.
The lion’s-head type with gaping jaws and lolling tongue found in the gold series
attributed to Populonia seems to find its most direct comparison with the series of
silver tetradrachms of the Sicilian mint of Leontinoi. These series are dated to begin
in 466 and persist throughout the fifth century. The Etruscan series is definitely more
recent but could still go back to the last part of the fifth century.
The three-quarters head of Menvra-Athena of the Etruscan silver series finds an
undeniable comparison with the similar type, a model signed by the engraver Euklei-
das, which appears in the silver drachma of the mint of Syracuse during the period of
the tyrant Dionysius I (405–367). In this case too, the Etruscan issue is certainly more
recent by several decades.
A further connection with the Greek environment of Sicily is well in evidence in
the structure of the bronze series, consisting of various values from 1 to 100 unit and
10 Camilli 1976.
11 Rutter 2001.

characterized by the fact that the designs of the reverse are normally incused (formed
by punching). The style of some types (the hippocamp, the eagle and serpent, the hel-
meted head of Minerva, the bearded man’s head), the incusing technique, the pres-
ence of signs of value, and some comparison in terms of weight have convinced schol-
ars to seek parallels with the Sicilian Greek environment of the time of Timoleon.12
In the opinion of some scholars, the male and female heads on the silver series
of ten units from Populonia’s mint would find comparisons with the similar heads
on Campanian coinage, of Neapolis in particular, a product dated to the late fourth
century from the types of Etruscan coins which could be derived.
Certainly derived from Greek models is the Gorgon Medusa, the only one of the
three sisters to be mortal, whose terrifying head, after having been cut off by Perseus,
became the distinctive element of the shield of Athena. Another Gorgon is shown
winged and full-length on a different series with the legend Thezle, obviously a com-
bination of the other series with the legend Thezi from the environment of Vulci.13
The curious pairing of a black African’s head and an Indian elephant on a bronze
series has been explained by the presence of Hannibal in Italy and, therefore, by a
derivation from external and foreign design models, that is, the rest of the Etruscan,
Italic, and Roman coinage.14
An indigenous type, distinct from the bearded Janus, is undoubtedly the head
with two young faces of the bronze series from Volterra’s mint, which finds its best
comparison in the full-length bronze figurine of the god found at Cortona, identified
by an inscription on the left thigh as Culsans.15
Another native type is the man’s head capped with the remains of a sea monster
that distinguishes the series with two values, sestante and oncia, from the mint of
Vetulonia. Once the old hypothesis is abandoned of his identification with Heracles
or Palaemon-Portunus, he to be identified with a local divinity or eponymous hero,
closely related to the city’s maritime activity. It is very likely the same eponymous hero
who, representing the Vetulonienses is portrayed on a relief dated to the Roman impe-
rial age, probably helmeted and provided with an oar. Another series that also prob-
ably comes from Vetulonia consists of two values—oncia and half-oncia—on which
the half-oncia features a man’s head capped with a conical helmet on the obverse,
and an oar on the reverse.16
12 Cristofani 1989.
13 Hackens 1976.
14 Baglione 1976.
15 Neppi Modona 1925, 143–45. See also CIE 437; TLE 640.
16 Camilli 1976.

The man’s head capped with the remains of a probable wolf, accompanied by a
running fox-like dog, a small bronze series, also seems to be a local type from a mint
doubtfully from the Chiana Valley.17
A hoard discovered in 1985 at Romito di Pozzuolo, near Lucca, contained three
examples featuring a hippocamp and five featuring a goose looking backwards. The
association with other archaeological materials suggests a latest possible dating to
270, given their issue and possible attribution to the local mint of Lucca.18 The pos-
sible presence of a mint at Lucca in the Etruscan period seems to be confirmed by
another coin also belonging to the hippocamp series. This was found at Bora dei Frati
in 1988, in the territory of Pietrasanta (Lucca), during excavations conducted in the
area of a settlement that has yielded materials dating to the end of the fourth and
beginning of the third century, but for this particular coin, a dating around the mid
third century is confirmed.
References
Baglione, P. 1976. “Su alcune serie parallele di bronzo coniato.” In Contributi introduttivi allo studio
della monetazione etrusca. Atti del Convegno del Centro Internazionale di Studi Numismatici.
Supplemento al vol. 22 AnnIstItNum, 153–80. Rome: Istituto Italiano di Numismatica.
Camilli, L. 1976. “Le monete a leggende Vatl.” In Contributi introduttivi allo studio della monetazione
etrusca. Atti del Convegno del Centro Internazionale di Studi Numismatici. Supplemento al vol.
22 AnnIstItNum, 181–97. Rome: Istituto Italiano di Numismatica.
Catalli, F. 1976. “Sulla circolazione dell’aes grave volterrano.” StEtr 44:97–110.
—. 2004. “La monetazione di Tarquinia.” In La moneta fusa nel mondo antico: quale alternativa alla
coniazione? 109–17. Milan: Società Numismatica Italiana.
Cristofani, M. 1989. “La monetazione etrusca dieci anni dopo il convegno di Napoli.” AnnIstItNum
36:83–100.
Cristofani Martelli, M. 1976. “Il ripostiglio di Volterra.” In Contributi introduttivi allo studio della
monetazione etrusca. Atti del Convegno del Centro Internazionale di Studi Numismatici.
Supplemento al vol. 22 AnnIstItNum, 87–104. Rome: Istituto Italiano di Numismatica.
de Marinis, R. 1987. “L’abitato protostorico di Como.” In Como tra Etruschi e Celti. La città preromana
e il suo ruolo commerciale, 25–38. Como: Società Archeologica Comense.
Hackens, T. 1976. “La métrologie des monnaies étrusques les plus anciennes.” In Contributi
introduttivi allo studio della monetazione etrusca. Atti del Convegno del Centro Internazionale
di Studi Numismatici. Supplemento al vol. 22 AnnIstItNum, 221–72. Rome: Istituto Italiano di
Numismatica.
Neppi Modona, A. 1925. Cortona etrusca e romana. Florence: Bemporad.
Rutter, N. K. 2001. Historia Numorum: Italy. London: British Museum.
17 Baglione 1976.
18 Rutter 2001, 28–29.

Stazio, A. 1978. “Storia monetaria dell’Italia preromana.” In Popoli e civiltà dell’Italia antica, vol. 7,
edited by M. Pallottino, 113–93. Rome: Biblioteca di storia patria.
—. 1985. “Monetazione ed economia monetaria.” In Sikanie. Storia e civiltà della Sicilia antica,
edited by G. Pugliese Carratelli, 81–122. Milan: Scheiwiller.
Thurlow, B. H., and I. Vecchi. 1979. Italian Cast Coinage. London, New York: Vecchi, Kreindler.
TLE Testimonia Linguae Etruscae, ed. M. Pallottino. Florence: La Nuova Italia.

Adriano Maggiani
28 Weights and balances
Abstract: Studying the bronze weights discovered in Etruria makes it likely that there was a unit of
weight equal to 143,5 g (or 287 g), which can be called the “Etruscan pound,” upon which Etruscan
coinage was based. The weight system used in Rome, however, was based on a “pound” of 326.16 g.
In Etruria, both types of balance used in antiquity, the libra and the statera, are attested.
Keywords: Libra, statera, aequipondium, weights, balances
1 Catalogue
In Etruria, both types of balance used in antiquity, the libra and the statera, are
attested. The former is also documented on the basis of various depictions, but the
latter is preserved only in the form of a few components of the instrument, namely,
weights.
Type I. Libra
1. Bologna, Museo Civico Archeologico, inv. no. 169. Stele from Felsina. Second half
of the fifth century. Weighing of wool in the presence of the materfamilias.1
2. Madrid, Museo Arqueologico Nacional, inv. no. 9829. Mirror from the Kranzspiegel-
gruppe. On the reverse, Aplu and Turms. Turms is holding the libra to weigh the
kēres (fates?) of Achle (Achilles) and Evas (Ajax). Third century (Fig. 28.1).2
3. Private collection. Conical weight in the form of an acorn(?) for a libra(?), with ded-
icatory inscription. Ht. 3.90 cm; diam. 3.95 cm; 143.9 g. Third century (Fig. 28.2).3
Type I A. Libra with weights

1. Current location unknown (lost?). Krater (kelebe) from Montediano (Bolsena).
(A) Apollo and Heracles (or Hyacinth?). (B) Turms observes Palmithe (inscription:
Talnithe), who holds a libra in his right hand, with two roundish objects (stones?)
placed on its pans.4
Tipo II. Statera5
1 Ducati 1911, 442, 631ff., no. 169A, pl. V; Sassatelli 1993, 64, fig. 8.
2 Blázquez 1960, 154–56; fig, 4, no. VII; Cristofani 1996, 52, no. 29.
3 Bonfante 1993, pls. XLVI–XLVIII; Cristofani 1993.
4 Beazley 1947, 127; Greifenhagen 1978, 72 ff., figs. 44–49; Massa Pairault 1980, 89 ff., fig. 20;
Spannagel 1981, 191 ff.; Cristofani 1996, 39 ff., fig. 21.
5 The lever scales from Arezzo, which Gianfrancesco Gamurrini thought were Etruscan, are actually
from the Byzantine period: see Cristofani 1996, 41, no. 7.
474 Adriano Maggiani
Fig. 28.1: Mirror. Madrid, Museo arqueologico Nacional, inv. no. 9829
(from Blázquez 1960)
1. Chianciano, Museo Civico Archeologico delle Acque. Counterpoise in the form

of a two-faced woman. From Chanciano, I Fucoli. Ht. 6.8 cm; 265 g. Late fourth –
third century BCE.6
2. Chianciano, Museo Civico Archeologico delle Acque. Counterpoise with two
faces: on one side, a Silenus; on the other, a Maenad. From Chianciano, I Fucoli.
Ht. 8 cm; 576 g. Late fourth – third century.7
3. Rome, Museo Nazionale Etrusco di Villa Giulia, inv. no. 121561. Egg-shaped
weight, with dedicatory inscription. From Caere, sanctuary in the Sant’Antonio
neighborhood. Ht. 10 cm; 750 g. (Fig. 28.3).8
The tiny catalogue presented above records the certain existence of the libra at
least from the fifth century (I.1) and its continued use into the first half of the third
century, dated on the basis of the palaeography of the probable weight (I.3) and the
6 Rastrelli 1993, 474, pl. XXI; 1997, 77, fig. 64; Cristofani 1996, 41, no. 6.
7 Rastrelli 1993, 474, pl. XX; 1997, 78, figs. 65–66; Cristofani 1996, 41, no. 6.
8 Cristofani 1996, 39 ff.

28 Weights and balances 475
Fig. 28.2: Weight in privat collection

(from Bonfante 1993)
style of the mirror with the depiction of one (I.2). The weights (II.1–3), on the other
hand, seem to document the existence of the statera beginning in the late fourth
century; this is a period surprisingly earlier than is usually thought.9 That they actu-
ally belonged to steelyards seems to be proved by their considerable dimensions;
counterpoises like those found in Etruria seem to exclude their use with a two-pan
balance.10
In fact, even with the libra, small counterweights could be used to equalize the
weights of the two pans of the balance. Examples are known from the Late Republi-
can or Proto-Imperial period, from Pompeii and elsewhere.11 The balance depicted
on the krater from Montediano (I A.1) confirms its existence, moving the date in this
case to the Early Hellenism. The interpretation of this piece of evidence, however,
remains ambiguous. Does it indicate that the steelyard had its origin in the libra,
9 The chronology of this type of balance has often been anchored to the discussion in Vitr. 10, i.e. the
late first century CE: cf. Cristofani 1996, 40.
11 See Daremberg and Saglio 1877–1919, 1226 s.v. Libra, fig. 1472.

Fig. 28.3: Weight from Caere (from Cristofani 1996)
through the development of the system of counterpoises, or else that it was the result
of interaction between the older weighing system and the revolutionary balance with
just one arm?12
2 The weight system

The facts about weights inferable from the likely libra weight appear to be very impor-
tant. The example in a private collection (I.3) weighs 143.9 g, but the two weights from
Chiusi weigh respectively 265 and 576 g; the one from Caere, 750 g. These facts defi-
nitely rule out the system of weights in use at Rome, which is based on a pound of
327.45 g (or better, of 326.16 g).
A relationship can be assumed with a degree of certainty between the two weights
from Chianciano, since they come from a single context and they exhibit the strong-
est typological and stylistic affinity. If we take into account the fact that the smaller
piece is heavily worn, resulting in a considerable loss of metal a weight can be recon-
12 This is the opinion expressed in Daremberg and Saglio 1877–1919, 1226 s.v. Libra.

structed for this piece close to 288 g, a weight that in theory would put it in a 1 to
2 relationship with the larger weight. The definition of this embryonic sequence of
weights appears extremely significant in light of the small conical object (I.3) that
is tentatively identified as a weight for the libra: its weight, ca. 144 g, turns out to be
exactly half the weight determined theoretically for the lighter of the two pondera
from Chiusi. The palaeography of the dedicatory inscription points to the region
between Vulci, Tarquinia, and Orvieto for the provenience of the donor (and thus
perhaps also of the object). This considerably broadens the area of diffusion of the
specific system of weights, which also seems to have involved some of the city-states
of central-southern Etruria.
Contact with the series of weights from Caere (750 g) proves to be more problem-
atic. But if we take the lowest value as the basis of the system, that of example I.3
rounded off to around 145 g, the Caere weight comes out to five units plus a remainder
of 25 g, which appears excessive given that these are objects of controlled weight,
perhaps even reference standards kept in sanctuaries, a very unsatisfactory circum-
stance. But the example from Caere, unlike those from Chiusi, which have a single
suspension hole, has a second ring coarsely attached to the main one. If we estimate
the weight of the second ring (which is not found in the other examples) at 25 g and
subtract it from the total weight (750 g), we arrive at ca. 725 g, which corresponds
exactly to quintuple the base measure. This sequence emerges:
Weight in private collection (1.3) = 1 = 144 g
Weight from Chianciano (II.l) = 2 = 288 g
Weight from Chianciano II.2) = 4 = 576 g
Weight from Caere (II.3) = 5 = 725 g
(+ 25 g)
Or, if we take the base to be 290 g,
I.3 = 0.5
II.1 = 1
II.2 = 2
II.3 = 2.5
Although we should perhaps wait for documentary confirmation, nonetheless this

result appears very attractive. In fact on a base of 145 g (or 290 g), which we might call
the “Etruscan pound,” is conceived a series of Etruscan bronze coinage (see chapter
27. Catalli), from both Volterra and much of central Etruria, and even some from Tar-
quinia. Deepening research has made it possible to construct a table gathering the
weights in stone and metal attested in Etruria (Fig. 28.4).13
13 Further weights have been collected in Maggiani 2002, 2007.

I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI
478
28,6625 114,65 143,3125 286,625 315,2875 343,95 358,2812 382,166 401,275 429,9375 477,708
Caere 6th c. 4th c.

* *
Southern 4th c.
Etruria ●
Vetulonia 5th c. 6th–5th c. 6th–2nd c.
● ● ■
Adriano Maggiani
6th–2nd c.
■
Siena- 7th c.
Colle Vald. *
Populonia 4th–3rd c.
●
Volterra 4th c.
*
Pisa- 5th c.
Le Melorie ■
Chiusi 4th c.
*
Reggio Emil. 4th c. 5th–4th c.
■ *■
Mantova 5th c.
?■
Marzabotto 5th c. 5th c. 5th c. 5th c. 5th c. 5th c. 5th c. 5th c. 5th c.
■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■

Fig. 28.4: Weights from Etruria (from Maggiani 2007, 147); all chronological indications are BCE, * Bronze Weights ● Lead Weights ■ Stone Weights.
3 The inventor of the balance: Turms or Talnithe?

According to Greek tradition, Palamedes, one of the heroes who participated on the
Greek side in the Trojan War, was celebrated for his intelligence and genius. Many
inventions are attributed to him, both for play (e.g. dice and pessoi/latrunculi), and
for culture generally (e.g. writing).14 The figure of this unlucky hero won great success
in Etruria, given that he is often depicted on seals and mirror backs, often in scenes
of oracular prophecy.15 In particular, the gorgeous vase attributed to the Montediano
Painter (I A.I ) shows him holding a two-pan balance, a libra. Palamedes holds it with
his left hand, by a hook located at the center of the horizontal arm; the two pans are
just about in equilibrium. The inscription that runs along the fold of the cloak (Tal-
nithe, the more frequent form of Palmithe, which in turn is the normal Etruscan reflex
of the Greek Palamedes) leaves no doubt as to the identity of the figure.
Near him is a nude man, with a broad hat abandoned on his shoulders. He stands
on his right leg, with his left leg bent and his foot on a rock, holding the herald’s staff,
the kerykeion, in his right hand, while his left hand is at his brow. This is unequivo-
cally Turms (Greek Hermes, Latin Mercurius), intent on observing the activity carried
out by the youth before him. The association of the two figures is highly significant.
As has been emphasized, the Greek tradition associates both of them with the inven-
tion and use of the balance.
In fact, quite early on—at least from the late sixth century, as shown by the depic-
tions on Attic black-figure ceramics—Hermes had taken over the role played in Homer
by Zeus of weighing the kēres of Achilles and Memnon before the fatal duel.16 His
association with that instrument is due to his identification with the Egyptian god
Thoth.17
Another tradition, which probably originated in the late fifth century, attributes
the invention to Palamedes instead. As Martin Spannagel has observed, this tradition
flourished in the bosom of the Sophists (the most extensive enumeration of the eure-
mata [inventions] of Palamedes is in fact in Gorgias), who were particularly interested
in promoting the role of progress in technai in human society. But we certainly cannot
disregard the fact that at the same time, Euripides attributed the invention of weights
(which is tantamount to saying the balance) to a goddess: Isotes, i.e. Equality.18
14 Woodford and Krauskopf 1994.

15 As such, as inventor of writing, he was able to give written form to oracular prophecy; see Woodford
and Krauskopf 1994, 149.
16 Spannagel 1981, 196; Cristofani 1996, 52.
17 Heurgon 1986, 290 ff.
18 On all this see Spannagel 1981, 198.

The Etruscan painter, if not entirely dependent on a Greek model, appears to have
tried to compare these different traditions and seems, if the pose of Turms is one of
amazement and admiration,19 to favor the tradition that extols the role of the hero.
The scene on the vase is, in fact, normally interpreted as Palamedes displaying his
new invention, the balance, whose use Turms is then learning from him. Frankly, this
seems very peculiar. Much more appropriate as the protos euretēs of an instrument so
fundamental to commercial activity would seem to be a god who, in Greece, Rome,
and certainly also in Etruria, presided over the sphere of exchange and commerce and
to whom one tradition—albeit a rather isolated one—explicitly attributes the inven-
tion of weights and measures (Diod. Sic. 5.75.2). It therefore cannot be excluded that
the scene can be read differently than it usually has been. It could actually be inter-
preted as the moment when the libra was bestowed on Palamedes by the god. Com-
parison with the depiction on a well-known mirror from Tuscania20 could support this
idea. Rather than a competition between haruspices, as has been supposed, I would
prefer to recognize the climactic moment of the paideia of a youth, Pava Tarchies,
who under the careful watch of Avle Tarchunus and Ucernei, enters a sacred space
(rathlth) indicated by the presence of a Veltune and a god with the characteristics of
Apollo (Rath?). On the krater, Turms does not really seem to be drawn with an attitude
of astonishment. Resting solidly on his herald’s staff, with his left foot on a rock, his
hat hanging behind his shoulders, and his hand held to his forehead in a gesture that
expresses a “suspension of time,”21 the god examines his mortal imitator (his disci-
ple?) in the act of receiving the new instrument.
If there remains some doubt about the actual pedigree of the invention of the
balance (Turms the divine inventor and Palamedes / Talnithe the human euretēs?),
certainly the god is most frequently associated in the depictions with the weighing
instrument and is certainly the patron of the instrument, in his role as protector of
commercial activity. It is indeed Turms who, on a well-known mirror with a scene of
psychostasia (weighing of souls; I.2), raises the libra, with the kēres of Achilles and
Ajax, to compare their destiny. And it is Mercurius who on a Praenestine cista displays
the balance as one of his attributes.22
An extraordinary object was recently discovered that demonstrates that this was
his specific sphere of action in Etruria, as in Praeneste and Rome. This is not a libra,
but a steelyard, a more developed instrument that exploits the principle of the lever. It
was discovered beneath the sanctuary during excavations in the southeastern sector
19 As Spannagel 1981, 199, thinks.

20 Cristofani 1985, 4 ff., figs. 1–12.
21 Settis 1975, 13.
22 Simon 1992, 519–20, no. 239.

of the Caere plateau, an extensive sacred area that contains two temples, one of them
certainly dedicated to Hercle.23
Actually, only the counterpoise of the steelyard is preserved, the oval aequipon-
dium (II.3). This discovery is exceptional because a long inscription covers the object’s
surface, unfortunately not easily read because of deep abrasions. Before dealing with
the content of the text, it is appropriate to recall that this is not a unique type of object
recovered from Etruria. In fact, not many years ago, two similar pieces were found at
Chianciano in a cluster of objects that are unquestionably the furnishings of a sanctu-
ary. These are two weights (II.1–2) with two-faced depictions, which stylistically can
again be placed in the fourth century.24
From an iconographic point of view, the two pieces from Chianciano do not seem
to make a positive contribution to the question dealt with here. As it happens, while
the double female face (II.1) is too vague to lead to any specific identification, the
other (II.2) is perfectly familiar, with the contrasting faces of Satyr and Maenad. The
presence of these beings, and through them the intrusion of the Dionysiac world into
this particular technical space did not find immediate reflection in the sphere of com-
petence of the god Fufluns.
Since all evidence points to material coming from a sanctuary in which the Dio-
nysiac component must have been important (cf. e.g. the large krater depicted on the
preserved portion of the clay pediment),25 we might think that here too—as in Rome—
it was a matter of official weights, placed under the protection of the titular god of the
sanctuary, a god who, although he did not have direct jurisdiction over commerce,
was nonetheless very close to the classes that engaged in trade.
4 The inscribed pondera

Incised on the conical weight I.3 is the following dedicatory text: ecn: turce: laris:
thefries: espial: atial: cathas.
Despite the linguistic difficulties it presents, there is no doubt that it is an epi-
graph of dedication to Catha, a goddess in many ways close to Fufluns (Dionysos in
Greek, Latin Liber in Rome).
The text inscribed on the weight from Caere (II.3) occupies ten lines. We quote
the transcription by the first editor, Mauro Cristofani, with a suggested new reading
of the second, sixth and the last line: Raths turmsal / vel uchs luvchmsal / thusti thui
23 Fundamental is the edition by Cristofani 1996, on which this note in large part depends.
24 Rastrelli 1993, 474, recalling for comparison the head-kantharoi of the Clusium Group.
25 Rastrelli 1993, pl. V.

methlmth / mu [- - -] s x mse / macuni Hercles / alpan tece II C / e VII CC / lc.penthe.vel /

lape zilci lath / ale nulathesi.
The first line has the names of the gods Turms and Rath. There follow a personal
name—presumably the dedicator (Vel Uchs)—and a mention of the divine name
Hercle, perhaps the patron of a sacred space in which the offerings were dedicated.
The following part is very obscure. We can recognize some signs, perhaps to be identi-
fied as numerals (IIC= 2,5?). It closes with a formula to be read zilci lathale nulathesi,
“in the magistrature (zilc) of Larth Nulathe.”
The conclusions to be drawn from so complicated a text, which certainly deserves
a careful reexamination (which at this point is not possible to carry out), cannot be
but extremely provisional and problematic.
One certain element, however, is that the inscription identifies the weight as the
sacred property of Turms. This must eliminate any doubt about the true jurisdiction,
even in Etruria, of the god over this chief instrument of commercial transactions by
the late fourth century.
If Cristofani’s interpretation of the central part of the inscription has hit the nail
on the head, it records a dedication by two people, L(ar)c(e) Penthe and Vel Lape, in
the urban sanctuary of Hercle. We may then ask whether these two names instead
have something to do with the signs, probably numerals, in line 7. If these numbers
are an indication of weight, it is difficult to escape the suggestion, to make a compari-
son with the Roman model. At Rome steelyards and pondera often carry inscriptions
recording that the instruments were, at a time specified by the consular date, under
the authority of the aediles (and later of the praefectus urbi), subjected to verification
with the certified standard of the state authority. Standard weights were deposited in
specific places, especially sanctuaries, such as the temples of Jupiter Capitoline or the
Dioscuri.26
In fact, the mention of the sanctuary of Hercle, the presence of several persons,
the indication of the weight, and the conclusion that the transaction took place “in
the zilcship of La(r)th Nulathe” all constitute elements that bear a very strong resem-
blance to the Latin inscriptions of this type.
References
Beazley, J. D. 1947. Etruscan Vase Painting. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Bertinetti, M. 1985. “Iscrizioni su materiali ponderari.” In Misurare la terra. Centuriazione e coloni
nel mondo romano. Città, agricoltura, commercio. Materiali da Roma e dal suburbio, exhibition
catalogue, 208–210. Modena: Panini.
26 On the entire question, see the effective synthesis of Bertinetti 1985.

Blázquez, J. M. 1960. “Espejos etruscos figurados del Museo Arqueológico Nacional de Madrid.”
ArchEspA 33: 145–55.
Bonfante, L. 1993. “26. Originis incertae.” StEtr 59: 269–70.
Cristofani, M. 1985. “Il cosiddetto specchio di Tarchon. Un recupero e una nuova lettura.” Prospettiva
41: 4–20.
—. 1993. “Commento all’iscrizione.” StEtr 59: 270–71.
—. 1996. “Aequipondium etruscum.” In M. Cristofani, Due testi dell’Italia preromana, 39–58. Rome:
CNR.
Daremberg, C. and E. Saglio 1877–1919. Dictionnaire des antiquités grecques et romaines. Paris:
Hachette.
Ducati, P. 1911. “Le pietre funerarie felsinee.” MonAntLinc 20, 357–728.
Greifenhagen, A. 1978. “Zeichnungen nach etruskischen Vasen im Deutschen Archäologischen
Institut, Rom.” RM 85: 59–81.
Heurgon, J. 1986. “De la balance aux foudres (à propos du miroir étrusque Gerhard E.S. IV, 396).”
In J. Heurgon, Scripta varia, 285–98. Bruxelles: Latomus.
Maggiani, A. 2002. “La libbra etrusca.” StEtr 65–68: 163–99.
—. 2007. “La libbra etrusca. Addenda.” StEtr 73: 135–47.
Massa Pairault, F.-H. 1980. “Réflexions sur une cratère du Musée de Volterra.” RA: 63–96.
Rastrelli, A. 1993. “Scavi e scoperte nel territorio di Chianciano Terme. L’edificio sacro dei Fucoli.”
In La civiltà di Chiusi e del suo territorio. Atti del XVII Convegno di studi etruschi ed italici,
Chianciano Terme 28.5–1.6 1989, 463–76. Florence: Olschki.
—. 1997. “Il tempio di Fucoli.” In Museo Civico Archeologico delle Acque di Chianciano Terme, edited
by G. Paolucci, 77–78. Siena: Protagon.
Sassatelli, G. 1993. “Giochi atletici in monumenti funerari di area padana.” In Spectacles sportifs et
et scéniques dans le monde étrusco-italique, Actes de la table ronde, Rome 3–4.5.1991, 45–67.
Settis, S. 1975. “Immagini della meditazione, dell’incertezza e del pentimento nell’arte antica.”
Simon, E. 1992. “Mercurius.” LIMC VI, 1, 500–37.
Spannagel, M. 1981. “Die Waage des Palamedes.” RM 88: 191–200.
Woodford, S. and I. Krauskopf 1994. “Palamedes.” LIMC VII, 1, 145–49.

Margarita Gleba
29 Textiles and Dress
Abstract: An understanding of the development of textile production in Etruria is crucial to any
attempt to set textile technology in its social and economic context and to place textile production
among other crafts, such as metal and pottery manufacture, in order to ensure a more balanced
assessment of the Etruscan economy. Among the various sources of evidence available for the study
of Etruscan textiles is archaeological material, consisting of textiles and tools, as well as iconographic
sources. The extant textiles illustrate that the Etruscans were familiar with complex spinning,
weaving, and dyeing techniques. The great quantity of surviving implements associated with textile
manufacture, such as spindle whorls, loom weights, and spools, can be used to study the organiza-
tion of textile production in Etruria. Iconographic sources provide important documentation of textile
production processes and information about the appearance and function of Etruscan textiles. The
accuracy of the latter is confirmed by the surviving textiles, in particular the almost complete gar-
ments recovered at Verucchio.
Keywords: textile, dress, textile tools, Verucchio
Introduction
Throughout antiquity, textile manufacture was practiced on all levels of society and
was one of the most labor-intensive of all occupations.1 As such, it was an industry
of great cultural and social importance, which should be factored into any balanced
assessment of the ancient economy. Textiles were used for a variety of purposes in
Etruscan society and textile production was an integral part of local and regional
economies and local, regional and long-distance exchange. The social significance
of textile production was expressed in Etruscan funerary ritual through the inclu-
sion of textile implements among the burial goods, as well as in religious activities
through the deposition of textile tools in votive deposits. Among the various sources
that provide evidence for the study of textile production in Etruria, archaeological
material is the most direct as it documents the productive activities through tools,
installations, raw materials and finished products. With the help of other, secondary
sources of information, namely the iconographic material and later written sources,
it is then possible to reconstruct the sequence of production processes involved in
textile manufacture.
1 Barber 1991.
486 Margarita Gleba
1 Precious fragments: Textile preservation

The belief that textiles hardly ever survive in archaeological contexts of Italy has
tended to discourage discussions of textile production in broader studies of produc-
tion and exchange in Etruria. Textiles, however, survive much more frequently than
is commonly believed.
Like any organic material, textile preservation requires special conditions to pro-
hibit their destruction by microorganisms, but many of them can be found on the
Apennine peninsula. One of the largest surviving groups consists of linen textile
fragments found in various Neolithic and Bronze Age sites in the north of the penin-
sula, where they have been preserved by the alkaline conditions of the Alpine lakes.2
Textile fragments made of wool, on the other hand, have been recovered from Iron
Age burials, where they were conserved in waterlogged and/or acidic environments.
A few Iron Age articles of clothing were recovered from the Alpine glaciers, preserved
practically unaltered in the permafrost.3 Carbonized or charred textiles survive as a
result of exposure to fire, as at Pompeii.4 The vast majority of textiles in Italy, however,
have been preserved in association with metal objects as mineralized formations in
which metal corrosion products form positive or negative casts fibers retaining their
external morphology and size almost unchanged. Even when consisting of minute
traces, these traces can provide a considerable amount of information about ancient
textiles.
Etruscan textiles are, in fact, preserved mostly as such mineralized traces
(Fig. 29.1).5 Occasionally, textile fragments surviving in their organic form have been
found, for example in an eighth century BCE cenotaph at Sasso di Furbara near Cer-
veteri6 and in the Orientalizing tombs of Casale Marittimo.7 Exceptional finds have
been made at the site of Verucchio, where the only nearly complete Villanovan gar-
ments have been excavated.8
2 Moser et al. 2003.

3 Bazzanella et al. 2005.
4 Médard et al. 2011.
5 Gleba 2008, 45–57.
6 Masurel 1982; Mamez, Masurel 1992.
7 Esposito 1999.
8 Ræder Knudsen 2012; Stauffer 2002; 2012.

29 Textiles and Dress 487
b
Fig. 29.1: Mineralized textiles from Poggio Aguzzo, Murlo, seventh century BCE:
(a) on an iron knife from Tomb 4; (b) on an iron spear counterweight from Tomb 1
(Photo: M. Gleba) 

488 Margarita Gleba
2 Textile function
2.1 Garments
The Etruscans used textiles for a variety of purposes. Clothing is the most obvious and,
without doubt, primary textile function and numerous iconographic sources, such as
the tomb paintings of Tarquinia, illustrate the variety and splendor of Etruscan gar-
ments. In her seminal Etruscan Dress, Larissa Bonfante has extensively studied Etrus-
can clothing depicted on figurines, statues, vases and tomb paintings.9 Typical male
dress, at least through the sixth century BCE, was the loincloth, observed for example
on the bronze figurines from Brolio (Fig. 71.7a),10 and reflecting the Italic “modesty.”11
Both sexes were represented wearing rectangular and semicircular mantles (tebennae)
and tunics of various lengths, pointed hats and pointed shoes. The fashions changed
over time and reflected internal developments of dress as well as external influences.
During the sixth century, Greek and Oriental fashions influenced Etruscan dress to
some extent. This is evident in the adoption of short chiton for men, well illustrated
in the painted terra cotta plaques from Cerveteri,12 and in the use of elaborate lotus
palmette decoration painted on stone statue from Polledrara, Vulci.13 By the fourth
century BCE, Etruscan garments have clear connection—in form or meaning—with
Roman costumes. Thus, the figured mantle worn by Vel Saties in the Tomba François at
Vulci—not a toga picta but a himation—has the same meaning as the Roman triumphal
garment.14 The first century BCE statue of Aulus Metellus is clad in a tunic with vertical
stripes or clavi, which signified a high social standing in Roman society.15
Of the surviving Etruscan textiles, most are garments as well. The spectacular
finds of Verucchio provided for the first time direct archaeological evidence for what
some of the Etruscan garments looked like. One of the richest is Tomb 89, the so-
called Tomba del Trono, a chieftain’s burial from around 700 BCE.16 In addition to
numerous small fragments surviving on the funerary pyre, it contained two semicir-
cular mantles, a garment with two curved edges and a small nearly square textile with
stitched hems on all four sides.17 The large semicircular mantles decorated with a dec-
orative tablet-woven border running all around the edges and originally measuring
9 Bonfante 2003.
10 Bonfante 2003, 168.
11 Bonfante 2000.
12 Bonfante 2003, 179.
13 Verri et al. 2014.
14 Lesky 1998.
15 Granger-Taylor 1982.
16 von Eles 2002.
17 Stauffer 2002; 2012.

Fig. 29.2: Mantles from Tomb 89, Verucchio, late 8th century: (a) mantle 1;
(b) mantle 2 (© Cologne University of Applied Sciences)
approximately 270 by ninety centimeters were dyed and preserved traces of further
decoration with amber buttons and other appliqués in the form of stitching holes
(Fig. 29.2). The mantles from Tomb 89 are the earliest tebennae known and, as such,
are the predecessors of the Roman toga. Unlike the latter, the Verucchio mantle would
have covered only parts of the wearer’s back while the long ends could be wound
around the arms as depicted in iconographic sources. A later and longer version of the

490 Margarita Gleba
Fig. 29.3: Garment from Tomb B/1971, Verucchio, late 8th century (dimensions in centimeters)
(© Cologne University of Applied Sciences) 
tebenna can be observed on the first century BCE statue of Aulus Metellus.18 Another
garment found in Tomb 89 had four semicircular edges, decorated with tablet-woven
borders. Two of the opposing curved sides may have served as sleeves. Garments of
this type are possibly depicted on the later wall paintings in Tarquinia. The Romans
acknowledged the Etruscan origin of their tunica.19
Tomb B/1971 at Verucchio, dated around the same time as Tomb 89, provided evi-
dence of another type of male garment, a large rectangular garment with straight side
edges and rounded lower edges (Fig. 29.3).20 A similar garment of this type was found
in the same tomb or Tomb 85. A remarkable feature in both of these garments is the
presence of regular pleats in two directions. Elaborate pleating is a common feature
of garments depicted in Etruscan iconography, e.g. on the Apollo of Veii, which until
now has been regarded as a decorative element or artistic convention.
Another distinctive Etruscan textile and dress element illustrated by the icono-
graphic sources and encountered in the Verucchio finds is the decorative border
present on both male and female mantles and other garments. Both Verucchio
mantles have elaborate borders featuring a triangle motif and three horizontal lines
18 Granger-Taylor 1982.
19 Bonfante 2003, 31, 102.
20 Stauffer 2012, 249–50.

made by the tablet-weaving technique.21 Even more elaborate are the tablet weaves
found in the eighth century BCE cenotaph at Sasso di Furbara.22 Tablet weaving
involves passing threads through holes in the corners of (usually) square tablets,
which, when rotated forward or back, force the threads to form different sheds. By
rotating cards in different combinations, it is possible to achieve numerous patterns.
This method is suitable for weaving narrow bands, such as belts, heading bands for
the warp of a warp-weighted loom, or decorative borders for the base textile. Such
tablet-woven borders are technically complex, extremely labor-intensive, and time
consuming. Such textiles must have served as indicators of social rank or as “ceremo-
nial” clothes, with the border being the distinguishing element characterized by tech-
nique, pattern and color.23 In fact, the toga, the Roman descendant of the Verucchio
mantles, retained the border as the status symbol, in this case dyed purple.
It is all the more significant that purple was likely the color of the borders of the
Verucchio mantles as well. Dye analyses of the textiles of Verucchio provided for the
first time direct evidence for the colors of Etruscan textiles.24 Thus, Verucchio Mantle
1 was dyed red with madder, while the fibers of its border were most likely treated
with madder and woad resulting in a purple hue. Mantle 2, on the other hand, was
dyed red-orange with madder and a yellow dye, while its border was also dyed with
woad, creating a purple-red effect. The garment from Tomb B/1971 was dyed blue with
woad. Dye analyses thus demonstrate that several different dyes were used to add
color to the Verucchio textiles, while their combination in some textiles shows an
understanding of a complex, multiple-stage dyeing process.
A glimpse of the female garments is provided by the yet to be analyzed textiles dis-
covered in Tomb 26/1969 at Verucchio, which are woven in diamond twill binding and
have a checkered pattern.25 Such checkered textile designs are frequently depicted on
Etruscan monuments26 but only with the discovery of the actual textiles their com-
plexity and sophistication is becoming apparent.
The textiles discovered at Verucchio thus demonstrate not only that the garments
we know from iconography reflect the reality of Etruscan dress in terms of shape, color
and decoration but also that these garments date to a considerably earlier period.
While less spectacular, mineralized textile traces on metal articles of personal
decoration such as bracelets, belts, and, most commonly, fibulae also provide infor-
mation about Etruscan clothing. Thus, when traces of different weave type are found
on the same fibula, as for example in some of the finds from Tarquinia Le Rose
21 Ræder Knudsen 2012.

22 Masurel 1982.
23 Stauffer 2012, 251.
24 Stauffer 2012.
25 Bentini, Boiardi 2007, 128.
26 Bonfante 2003, 12–14.

492 Margarita Gleba
Fig. 29.4: Textile traces on a fibula from Tomb XLIV, Tarquinia Le Rose, early 7th century; the draw-
ings show two sides of the same fibula, preserving different textiles (after Buranelli 1983, fig. 102)
(Fig. 29.4),27 a conjecture may be made that the deceased was wearing several layers
of garments. If a number of textile traces are present in a burial, it may be possible
to reconstruct how the garment was located based on their distribution and posi-
tion. Even if textiles do not survive, their presence may be indicated through other
evidence, such as the presence of fibulae and other decorative ornaments. In some
instances, reconstructions of garments are possible based on the position of surviving
decorative elements in relation to the skeleton, sarcophagus, or trench, as in the case
of some female costumes for the burials at Verucchio.28
Ongoing analysis of numerous mineralized textile fragments preserved in rich
burials demonstrates that Etruscans were familiar with complex textile technologies,
which allowed creation of fabrics that would have had a specific appearance. Just
like the Verucchio garments, the vast majority of these textiles are made of wool and
woven in twill weave. In a twill, the horizontal weft threads pass over and under ver-
tical warps in a regular staggered pattern, each row being stepped to one side of the
row above, creating a diagonal effect. The variants include a plain diagonal, warp- or
weft-chevron, broken and more complex diamond and dogtooth twills. These twills
are often spin or shadow-patterned, i.e. made using alternating groups of threads
spun in opposite directions, which would have created a subtle pattern of checks or
stripes, visible only up close and in a raking light. The quality of these textiles is
also rather homogeneous. Threads have diameters of less than half a millimeter and
thread counts per centimeter are usually twenty to thirty. The textiles are usually bal-
anced, i.e. have a similar number of threads in warp and weft. Last but not least, these
twill textiles often have tablet-woven borders.
These technical characteristics find almost exact parallels in Central Europe,
where Hallstatt elite consumed very similar textiles: there is an almost infinite variety
of dyed and patterned twills, many of the twills are spin patterned, and many complex
27 Buranelli 1983, 129.

28 Bentini, Boiardi 2007, 135 figs. 13–14.

tablet weaves have been found.29 In contrast, the contemporaneous extant textiles
found in Greece are tabbies or weft-faced tabbies,30 tabby being the simplest textile
structure attainable with two systems on a loom, with vertical warp and horizontal
weft threads alternating one over one in each direction—a textile culture more closely
related to the Near East.
Occasionally, textile remains are found on the inside of armor, suggesting that
they may have belonged to lining or a garment worn under the metal, as in the case
of the Tomba del Guerriero at Tarquinia dated to the end of the eighth century BCE.31
Furthermore, iconographic evidence suggests that textile fibers were used for particu-
lar kind of linen amour, depicted in the Amazon Sarcophagus, Tomba François and
Tomba dell’Orco II.32
In some cases, the dead were provided with very sumptuous dresses. The gar-
ments found in the burials of Verucchio, as well as the Polledrara Tomb at Vulci were
decorated with thousands of amber, glass or faïence beads and appliqués.33 Whether
such garments would have been worn before their deposition in burials is a debat-
able issue. Still, the majority of clothing articles found in graves could have been,
and most likely were, used in life. Confirmation comes again from the Verucchio gar-
ments, which have wear marks and, hence, must have been used by the deceased in
life.34
2.2 Wrappings
The vast majority of extant Etruscan textiles come from burial contexts, thus dem-
onstrating that they constituted a very important part of broader mortuary practices.
Thus, one use of textiles in burial ritual was to wrap the cremated remains of the
buried individual. Many scholars connect this practice to a ritual described by Homer
for the burials of Hector and Patroklos (Il. 24.796 and 23.254), which is believed to
have been adopted by the elites throughout the Mediterranean during the Iron Age.35
This “Homeric” ritual then spread quickly among the Etruscan elites, as attested for
example by the finds at Casale Marittimo, where a bronze cinerary urn found in Tomb
A contained textile remains that probably served as wrapping for cremated bones.36
In Tomba del Duce at Vetulonia, a cloth was found inside a bronze and silver box
29 Grömer 2012.
30 Spantidaki and Moulherat 2012.
31 Stauffer 2013.
32 Gleba 2011.
33 Bentini, Boiardi 2007, 128.
34 Stauffer 2002, 210.
35 Bérard 1970, 28; d’Agostino 1977, 59–60.
36 Esposito 1999, 42.

494 Margarita Gleba
(larnax), which contained cremated bones.37 The custom survived into later times
as well. Travertine urns in the second–first century BCE Strozzacapponi cemetery
of Perugia contained mineralized textile remains in which cremated remains were
wrapped.38
Italy, however, had a well-developed “wrapping” tradition of its own, as
attested by the grave finds dated as early as the ninth century BCE.39 The ciner-
ary urns at Bologna and in particular the ossuaries in the burials of Verucchio
were wrapped in textiles that were then fastened with fibulae and decorated with
other accessories, as if wearing a garment.40 These textiles have been interpreted
as clothing for the urns, and thus as representing the deceased.41 It has also been
suggested that biconical urns—containers of cremated remains typical for the Vil-
lanovan period and frequently covered with bronze or ceramic helmets—represent
the deceased, and that their incised geometric patterns, which are similar to woven
motifs, are intended to represent a garment.42 “Canopic” urns typical for the region
of Chiusi may strongly support this theory. The tradition was probably much more
widespread. While textiles do not usually survive, the position of various small
decorative objects, such as fibulae, around the urn, may indicate presence of a
cloth, which was fastened with them, as is the case of several cinerary urns at
Tarquinia.43
Occasionally, finds indicate a combination of wrapping the cremated remains
with “dressing” of the ossuary. Thus, in the Orientalizing “princely” Morelli tumulus
at Chianciano Terme, an anthropomorphic cinerary urn found in the southern cella
of the tomb was wrapped with a textile that was fixed around the neck of the urn with
a fibula.44 The iron fibula preserved the mineralized traces of the textile. Inside the
ossuary, traces of another fabric were identified, which likely contained the cremated
remains.
Textile traces indicate that, apart from cinerary containers, certain metal objects
came into close contact with textiles because they were intentionally wrapped or
enclosed in fabric.45 Knives, weapons, strygils, spits, and mirrors are among the most
common objects to bear textile traces. In some cases, the traces are clear enough to
reconstruct the direction of a cloth band wrapping a particular object. The deposi-
tion of thus “enclothed” objects in urns excludes the possibility of accidental contact
37 Torelli 2000, 582 no. 130.

38 Cenciaioli 2004, 8; Gleba and Vanden Berghe 2014.
39 Gleba 2014.
40 Bentini, Boiardi 2007, 127; see chapter 42 Trocchi.
41 Bonfante 2003, 106 note 3.
42 Iaia 1999, 29, 114.
43 Trucco 2006, 98–99.
44 Paolucci, Rastrelli 2006, 14, 17, 20.
45 Gleba 2014.

with textiles. It is unclear whether this phenomenon has a ritual significance in funer-
ary context or represents a regular practice of safekeeping of precious metal objects.
However, the finds indicate that wrapping was common not only throughout Italy,
but also in Hallstatt societies (modern-day France, southern Germany and Austria),
suggesting that it had a wider, pan-European significance.
2.3 Furnishings, utilitarian fabrics, ship sails and books
Besides garments, there are frequent representations in Etruscan tomb paintings of

colorful bed covers, cushions, tablecloths and other utilitarian textiles.46 Although
to date no direct evidence for wall hangings in Etruria comes in the form of textile
remains, a clear indication of their existence is given by the ceiling and wall paintings
in the tombs of Tarquinia. Checkers and small flowers on the ceilings are unquestion-
ably textile patterns, the entire tombs representing tents or pavilions with roofs made
of cloth, best exemplified in the Tomb of the Hunter.47
A unique ancient use of textiles in Etruria was for books. Called libri lintei by the
Romans, they were made of linen and used for recording religious rituals. Fragments
of one such book, the so-called Zagreb mummy wrappings were preserved in Egypt.48
Evidence for their use also exists in Etruscan art and Latin literature. Production of
textiles for these ritual objects must have been strictly controlled and adhered to spe-
cific regulations.
Another important use of textile fibers—especially flax and hemp—was for sails
and ship rigging. Etruscans were notorious throughout the Mediterranean as sailors
and—according to their enemies—as pirates. Their ship building technology was
among the most sophisticated for their era, including the use of the earliest foresail.49
No Etruscan sail fragment has survived but it should be kept in mind that manufac-
ture of large textile quantities, as in the case of sail production or army supplies,
required considerable resources, organization and planning.
3 Textile production
In order to create a textile, raw material has to be transformed in a series of processes
that include raw material acquisition and preparation, spinning, weaving, dyeing
and finishing. Each stage of this transformation leaves its mark on the final product,
46 Steingräber 1986; 2006.

47 Gleba 2008, 25–27.
48 van der Meer 2007.
49 Macintosh Turfa, Steinmayer 1999.

496 Margarita Gleba
Fig. 29.5: Scenes from the Throne of Verucchio depicting women spinning and weaving, Tomb 89,
Verucchio, late 8th century (after von Eles 2002, fig. 127)
which can be recovered through textile analysis. Resources for making textiles include
plant and animal products used for fibers and dyes, as well as those used in various
stages of textile making, such as washing or fulling. In this way, agriculture, animal
husbandry, exploitation of environmental resources, and landscape use are closely
linked to textile production.
Procurement of raw materials is the first step of any production process. Two
fiber groups, divided on the basis of their origin into plant and animal, were used for
making textiles in Etruria. The principal plant fiber was flax. The major animal fiber
was sheep wool. Wool was sorted according to color and fiber quality. Flax required
much more complex processing to extract fibers from plants, which involved retting
in dew or water.
Once the fiber mass has been obtained and prepared, it can be converted into
a yarn and woven into a fabric. Several Etruscan iconographic documents illustrate
these stages of textile manufacture, underlining the economic and social importance
of the craft for the Etruscan society. An important scene related to textile production
appears on the wooden cylindrical throne found in Tomb 89 at Verucchio (Fig. 29.5).
While interpretations of the intricately carved scenes vary,50 most scholars agree that
spinning and weaving are among the activities depicted.
Another important object comes from the area of Bologna and is one of the
most important and detailed representations of textile production in the ancient
world, a bronze rattle or tintinnabulum found in Tomb 5 of Bologna’s Arsenale Mili-
50 Torelli 1997, 68–69; von Eles 2002.

a b
Fig. 29.6: Tintinnabulum from Bologna, Arsenale Militare, Tomba degli Ori, bronze, late 7th century:
(a) side A, with scenes of dressing the distaffs (bottom) and spinning (top); (b) side B,
with scenes of warping (bottom) and weaving (top) (© Bologna Museo Civico Archeologico)
tare necropolis, dated to the late seventh century BCE (Fig. 29.6).51 It is a flat, bell-
shaped object, made of two bronze sheets connected at the edges and decorated in
a repoussé technique. Each side of the tintinnabulum is divided into two sections,
allowing space for four scenes depicting various stages of textile manufacture. The
bottom scene of side A depicts two women seated in throne-like chairs, reminiscent
of the Verucchio throne. In their left hands, each woman holds a distaff, and with
their right hand, each pulls a strand of fiber from the basket in the center; they
are dressing the distaffs for spinning. The top scene of side A shows a woman per-
forming the task of spinning. She is standing in profile, holding a dressed distaff in
her extended left hand, while a drop-spindle hangs from her right hand. Side B of
the tintinnabulum shows activities associated with weaving. The bottom scene rep-
resents the weaving of the starting border necessary for the warp-weighted loom,
while the last scene provides a rendering of an unusual two-storied warp-weighted
loom.
Both of these iconographic documents illustrate that textile production processes
are associated with particular tools. Unlike the textiles themselves, textile imple-
ments are ubiquitous on Etruscan archaeological sites. The great number of imple-
ments associated with textile manufacture can be used to study the craft and its tech-
51 Morigi Govi 1971.

498 Margarita Gleba
Fig. 29.7: Ceramic spindle whorls, Poggio Civitate di Murlo, 7th –6th century
(courtesy of Anthony Tuck)
nological and economic aspects. Spinning and weaving implements constitute the
single most important and plentiful type of evidence for the assessment of the scale of
production and the technology of this industry in Etruria. Furthermore, many textile
tools have been found in burial and votive contexts, providing another interpretative
framework.52
Spinning activity is well attested archaeologically in both burial and settlement
contexts in Etruria.53 A long spindle, with its whorl still on the elaborately decorated
wooden shaft, was recovered from the underwater village of Gran Carro in Lake
Bolsena, dated to the early ninth century BCE.54 In addition to the rare surviving
wooden and bone items, there are examples made of metal, all of which were found
in burial contexts. One example is a set of a bronze spindle with a bronze biconical
whorl and a bronze distaff from the eighth-century BCE Benacci-Caprara Tomb 56 in
Bologna.55
Since most spindles in antiquity were made of wood, often the only evidence for
their use consists of the less perishable spindle whorls. The vast majority of spindle
whorls in Italy are made of fired clay (Fig. 29.7), but whorls made of luxury materi-
als like glass and amber have also been found in Etruscan burial contexts. Spindle
whorls, have often been found in large numbers at practically every Etruscan settle-
ment site. The majority of sites yield a variety of whorl shapes, although a specific
type often predominates, suggesting either that it was traditional at the site, or that
52 Lipkin 2012; Meyers 2013.

53 Gleba 2008; Lipkin 2012.
54 Tamburini 1995, 169 no. 2081, Fig. 51.
55 Forte, von Eles 1994, 55 no. 32.

Fig. 29.8: Terracotta loom weights, Poggio Civitate di Murlo, 7th –6th century
(courtesy of Anthony Tuck) 
the site specialized in a certain quality of yarn and, consequently, a certain type of
textile.
Weaving in Etruria was accomplished on a vertical warp-weighted loom. Occa-
sionally, charred remains of the wooden beams are preserved in association with loom
weights, which allows speculation about their probable position. For example, at the
fourth-third century BCE building at La Piana, some of the charred wood timbers,
found together with an accumulation of loom weights near the north wall in one of
the rooms of the house, probably were remains of a loom frame.56
The most common evidence of the warp-weighted loom, however, consists
of loom weights, which were made of fired clay and therefore survive well in the
archaeological contexts, allowing us to trace the presence and sometimes even
location of a warp-weighted loom on sites (Fig. 29.8).57 The trapezoidal or trun-
cated pyramidal shape seems to have been prevalent in Etruria, although ring-
shaped loom weights were common in northern areas. Occasionally loom weights
are found in situ, having fallen to the ground when the warp to which they were
originally attached was destroyed or deliberately cut, as for example at Acquaros-
sa.58 Such finds provide important information about the location and size of the
loom.
56 Whitehead 1996, 114, Figs. 6 and 8.

57 Gleba 2008, 125–7.
58 Östenberg 1975, 11–12.

500 Margarita Gleba
Fig. 29.9: Ceramic spools, Poggio Civitate di Murlo, 7th–6th century (courtesy of Anthony Tuck)
Tablet weaving in Etruria is attested by tablets, metal clasps, bone spacers with
pegs, and particularly by terracotta spools (Fig. 29.9).59 The latter were probably used
as weights in tablet weaving.60 Finally, the evidence of sewing activities consists of
numerous finds of bronze and bone needles.
4 Conclusion
Surviving evidence illustrates the abundance and variety of textiles and their uses
in Etruria. Garments, furnishings, utilitarian fabrics, sails, and even books were
made of textiles. Different functions required different properties, which in turn
demanded different choices and careful planning at various stages of textile produc-
tion. A sophisticated technology with the capacity to produce highly complex and
labor-intensive textiles developed in Italy by the Villanovan period and reached its
peak during the Orientalizing and Archaic periods. The abundance of textile tools
on settlements and in burials from the Villanovan period onwards demonstrates that
59 Gleba 2008, 139–53.

60 Raeder Knudsen 2012.

textile production was one of the main economic activities and sources of wealth for
the Etruscans. During the Orientalizing and Archaic periods, there was a significant
increase in the scale of textile production, indicated by the large number and stand-
ardization of tools. Frequently, textile implements are concentrated in specific areas
where the production of other goods, like ceramic or metal, has been documented,
suggesting a household or even workshop mode of manufacture and the existence of
at least part-time specialist craftspeople. Cloth was likely produced for commercial
purposes and textile trade in Etruria has been tied to salt, amber, slaves and other
commodities.61 Textile trade seems to be indicated indirectly by the spread of Etrus-
can fashion to central Europe as attested in the Situla Art.62 While there is no evidence
that textile production in Etruria ever reached an industrial scale of organization
before the Roman period, there is strong indication of a manufacture mode, which
greatly exceeded in quantity the simple subsistence-based household production.
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Emiliano Li Castro
30 Musical instruments
Abstract: The great importance of music in Etruscan civilization is attested by several ancient Greek
and Latin authors, who place a strong emphasis on the aerophones such as auloi, conches, horns,
and trumpets of various kinds—namely the Latin cornu, lituus, and tuba. This assertion has been
confirmed in recent times by various scholars, who also take into account the large number of musical
instruments and the wide range of iconographic evidence that have been found at Etruscan sites,
which span from the beginning of the seventh century to the first century BCE. While the only speci-
mens that survive are, of course, those made of nonperishable materials like metal or clay, the icono-
graphic evidence—such as the tomb paintings and other kinds of representations—clearly show that
almost all of the musical instruments that were widespread in the Mediterranean at the time were
also used in Etruria on many different occasions, including public and private ceremonies, rituals,
and daily life. Tantalizing glimpses of the earlier presence of perishable instruments—such as wooden
pipes and string instruments—are provided by the surviving parts made of ivory or bone, including
a few pipes, joints between pipe and reed, and plectra. One notable feature in the Etruscan context
seems to be the complete lack of membranophones—in particular the frame drum—which had still
not appeared by the turn of the fifth century, and by which time all of the other musical instruments
were already firmly established in the area.
Keywords: Aerophones, Chordophones, Idiophones, Membranophones
Introduction
This chapter presents the four main groups into which the original Sachs-Hornbostel
system classified musical instruments,1 here presented as three of their families in
decreasing order of the relevance of the Etruscan evidence.2
The author wishes to thank the three main scholars who pioneered Etruscan music archaeology,
Günter Fleischhauer, Jean-René Jannot, and Bo Lawergren, who, along with Giovanna Bagnasco
Gianni, Francesca Berlinzani, Beatrice Casocavallo, Fritzi Jurgeit, Marina Micozzi, Susanna Sarti,
John C. Franklin, Paolo Giulierini, Roberto Melini, Renato Meucci, Giulio Paolucci, and Maurizio
Martinelli, provided their support to the present article. Special thanks to Marco Pacciarelli for the
first push, to Alessandro Naso, who firmly encouraged me during my work, and to Peter Holmes for
his invaluable help in amending the final version of this chapter.
1 von Hornbostel and Sachs 1914.
2 Summaries of the evidence for musical instruments in Etruria in Fleischhauer 1964, 1995, 2001;
Jannot 1988; 1990; Heurgon 1992, 267–78; Lawergren 2007; Martinelli 2007, 21–52; Carrese, Li Castro,
and Martinelli 2010; Paolucci and Sarti 2012; Maggiani 2013.
506 Emiliano Li Castro
1 Wind instruments (aerophones)
1.1 Pipes
Several ancient Greek and Latin literary sources point out the close relationship
between the Etruscans and the world of sound tools, particularly instruments belong-
ing to the “aerophone” family of wind instruments. The most common of these is the
double-tube reed aerophone (Fig. 30.1.1), known in Greek as the aulos and in Latin as
the (plural) tibiae. With regard to its Etruscan name, it can be observed that the Latins
applied the term subulo to the Etruscan player of this instrument, indicating that the
Etruscan word suplu refers to the player of this instrument, if not to the instrument
itself.3
Aristotle (fr. 608 Rose)4 was surprised to find the Etruscans boxing, lashing their
servants, or, according to a further detail provided by Alcimus of Sicily (Ath. 12.518c =
FGrH 2.560 F 3), kneading their bread while listening to the sound of the aulos; while
Aelian (NA 12.46) maintained that the Etruscans even used the double pipe5 when
hunting wild boar and deer. Athenaeus (13.607f) remarks on the custom of sneering
at Polystratus the Athenian, a pupil of Theophrastus who often used to put on the
garments of female double pipe players, by calling him “the Etruscan”; and accord-
ing to Ovid (Ars Am. 1.111), the first Etruscan who took part in the events of Rome was
a musician playing the tibiae during the “Rape of the Sabine Women.”6 The Romans
usually employed Etruscan double pipe players for their ceremonies, of which the
music was a vital component. As Livy (9.30) certifies, the tibicines were considered
essential by the Romans during their rites. The prestige of the Etruscan players is
confirmed by Ennius (Saturae 65), who when referring to this type of musician did not
use the Latin term tibicen, but the Etruscan subulo; and by Virgil (G. 2.193–94), who
made a pointed reference to an Etruscan player who was intent on blowing his ivory
instrument at the altar, in front of trays of steaming entrails (inflavit cum pinguis ebur
Tyrrhenus ad aras, lancibus et pandis fumantia reddimus exta).
As for the materials from which the tibiae were made, Pliny the Elder provides some
specific information (HN 16.172): the Etruscan double pipes played on ritual occasions
were made of boxwood, while the instruments played for entertaining were made of
lotus wood, donkey bone, or silver. Due to the perishable nature of the wood, only rare
3 On Etruscan double-tube reed aerophones see Jannot 1974; 2001; Martinelli and Melini 2010;
Sutkowska 2010.
4 Confirmed by Plutarch (Mor. 456b).
5 The simplified term “double pipe” has been widely adopted in this chapter, though according to
Sutkowska 2010, 79, the technical term should be “double-tube reed aerophone.”.
6 See Grandolini 2010 for a summary of ancient sources on Etruscan musical instruments, including
the double pipe.

30 Musical instruments 507
Fig. 30.1: Aerophones (nos. 1–5): No. 1 Tomb of the Leopards,

Tarquinia. No. 2 Conch-trumpet from Tomb 1 at Poggio
dell’Impiccato, Tarquinia. No. 3 Lituus from the Pian di Civita,
Tarquinia. No. 4 (a) Cornu from the Tumulo dei Carri, Populonia;
(b) cornu, from Tarquinia or Tuscania, in the British Museum.
No. 5 Corno Castellani, Tarquinia
examples have survived. Eleven fragments of pipes—ten of boxwood and one of ivory—
were recovered from the ship wrecked around 600 BCE at the Bay of Campese, in the
Isola del Giglio,7 and a further fragment of pipe, with four holes and made of bone,
7 Sarti 2012a, figs. 10.1–11.

has been found in the area of Chianciano.8 A few joints between pipe and reed are also
known.9
The large volume of iconography related to music produced by the Etruscans pro-
vides further information as well as confirmation as to how instruments were used.
For one example, musicians and dancers are represented in tomb paintings with sur-
prising frequency. About 180 of the painted tombs contain representations of figured
subjects, almost 80% of them in Tarquinia; depictions of at least 129 musical instru-
ments survive from fifty-two tombs, dating from 520 to the end of the third century.10
The double pipe is by far the most frequently represented instrument, with sixty-
seven examples. Another survey, of a large number of archaic funerary urns from
Chiusi decorated with incised relief, produced parallel results, identifying forty-two
instruments on thirty-eight urns, spanning from the first half of the sixth century to
the middle of the fifth.11 On urns too, the double pipe is the most frequently repre-
sented instrument, with twenty-two examples. The Etruscan tomb paintings confirm
some of the statements from the literary sources, such as the presence of double pipe
players at boxing and fighting games or, as in the painting at Golini Tomb I in Orvieto
(second half of the fourth century), showing Alcimus’s detail of this instrument being
played during the kneading of bread.
The reed, an important part of the instrument with great influence on its sound
properties and playing techniques, is unfortunately the most fragile part, so no Etrus-
can reeds have been found archaeologically. In addition, in almost all extant depic-
tions, the musicians are shown playing but the reeds cannot be seen, as the mouth-
pieces are depicted inside the mouths of the performers. In only one painting—on
the left wall of the Tomb of the Lionesses in Tarquinia (530–520 BCE)—is the instru-
ment depicted not being played, but the depiction is too sketchy and the preserva-
tion of the painting too poor to enable definitive conclusions. Consequently, whether
the reed is double or single—one of the main factors that affects the timbre of the
instrument—cannot be determined. Nevertheless, since this ancient double pipe was
certainly a reed instrument, as demonstrated by the iconographic evidence, which
always depicts players with their cheeks distended,12 the current practice, however
common, of referring to it as “double flute” is a mistake, incorrect from an organologi-
cal point of view.
8 Martinelli and Melini 2010, 96–97, 102–3, figs. 1–2, 12–13; Martinelli 2012.
9 For example, a joint (probably made of bone) in the Museo Nazionale of Tarquinia, without inv. no.;
see Colivicchi 2007, 202–3, fig. 49, no. 497; Majnero and Stanco 2010, 122, fig. 6.
10 Steingräber 1984; 2006; Li Castro 2010, fig. 1a.
11 Jannot 1984, 426; Li Castro 2010, fig. 1b.
12 According to Olsen 1990, 185, this feature should be indicative of “a resistance typical for playing
reed instruments.”

1.2 Trumpets
Another group of aerophones, very well attested in ancient literary sources, includes
all sorts of trumpets, from those fashioned from a conch (Fig. 30.1.2) to those made
of copper or bronze.13 In the ancient sources, the trumpet is usually presented as an
Etruscan invention. It is frequently represented in iconography and is common in
the archaeological record. These long Etruscan trumpets14 were designated by the
Romans with three terms for their different shapes: tuba, lituus (Fig. 30.1.3), and cornu
(Fig. 30.1.4). The tuba is a straight tube that gradually expands from the mouthpiece
to the end of the bell. The lituus is a straight tube that expands only at the end with a
bell curved backward. The cornu is a wholly curved tube that gradually expands from
the mouthpiece to the end of the bell, and is sometimes equipped with a supporting
bar that allows the player to better handle the instrument when carrying and playing
it, and also to increase its rigidity (Fig. 30.1.5).
These types of musical instruments were among the main symbols of rank
employed in Etruscan ceremonies, and all ancient sources considered them to be an
Etruscan invention.15 The Tyrsēnike salpinx “Etruscan trumpet” is mentioned in clas-
sical Greek tragedies by Aeschylus (Eum. 566–69), Sophocles (Aj. 17), and Euripides
(Heracl. 830–31; Rhes. 989; Phoen. 1377–78). Much other ancient lexicographic, scholi-
astic, and literary evidence has confirmed this same origin, such as Pollux (4.85–86),
Athenaeus (4.184a), Hesychius (λ 836 Latte), Virgil (Aen. 8.526) and Servius (ad loc.),
Tatianus (Ad Gr. 2), Statius (Theb. 3.648, 6.404, 7.630), Theodoret of Cyrrhus (Graec.
affect. cur. 1.19), Clement of Alexandria (Strom. 1.16.74.6, Paedagogus 2.4.42.2), Isidore
of Seville (Etym. 3.21.3), and the scholiasts to Aristophanes (Ran. 133) and Lycophron
(Tzetz. in Lycophr. 250). Moreover, while all sources plainly attribute an Etruscan
origin to the trumpet by using a general term like Gk. tyrsēnike salpinx or Lat. tyr-
rhenica tuba, some of them also refer to the specific circumstances of its invention,
or even claim to name the supposed inventor of the instrument or the person respon-
sible for its spread to other populations. Diodorus Siculus (5.40) is very clear when
he writes that the trumpet is an Etruscan invention, originally conceived for military
13 Unfortunately, few of the metal wind instruments from Etruria have yet been analyzed to determine
their specific composition or the percentage of tin in the copper alloy, except for one fragment at
Karlsruhe that is identified as tin bronze (see footnote 33 below), and some instruments recently
analyzed by the “Michele Cordaro” laboratory of the Università della Tuscia (DISBEC) as a partner of
the European Music Archaeology Project (EMAP): one lituus from Tarquinia (see footnote 30 below),
another lituus from Cortona (see footnote 32 below) and one cornu from Populonia (see footnote 35
below), which have shown different percentages of tin in the alloy, with a range from two to six
percent. The author wishes to thank the EMAP team of the DISBEC for this preliminary information.
14 On Etruscan trumpets see Jurgeit 2005; Holmes 2008, 2010.
15 For a comprehensive collection of ancient sources on Etruscan trumpets see Berlinzani 2007; see
also Meucci 1987; 1989; 1991.

purposes. He states that the Tyrrhenians (= Etruscans) contrived this tool, which is
extremely useful in war, in order to organize their army. Pausanias (2.21.3) maintains
that the inventor was Tyrsenos; Silius Italicus (Pun. 5.9–13), in his brief narration of
the Etruscan migration to Italy, mentions Tyrrhenos, the eponymous hero, who led
young people from Lydia across the sea to the Latin shores, gave his name to the
land, and introduced the trumpet to the people he met—as a musical instrument char-
acteristic of war and as a symbol of the power he would establish in Italy. Hyginus
(Fab. 274), unlike Silius Italicus, for whom Tyrrhenos merely introduced the trumpet
to Italy, names him as the inventor of an instrument used to call distant peoples for
announcements of important events. According to Hyginus, when one of his com-
rades died, Tyrrhenos would blow on a hollow conch (concha pertusa)—an ancestor
of the trumpet-type instruments—to gather the inhabitants of the area and declared
that they would bury—not devour—the dead.
As confirmation of the presence of this instrument in pre-Etruscan times, a shell
of a gastropod (Charonia nodifera) with a truncated apex comes from the rich array
of grave goods found in Tarquinia in the cremation burial of an eminent warrior,
dated to Iron Age IC or IC/IIA.16 This specimen was placed near the urn, close to its
extant handle, as a symbol of high rank and probable sign of military power. Isidore
of Seville (Etym. 18.4.2) ascribes the invention of the trumpet to the Tyrrhenian pirates
(praedones), and he also explains the reason why they needed to do this. Being scat-
tered around the coast (dispersi circa maritimas oras), they invented the tuba because,
by virtue of its penetrating sound, it could be heard even at a long distance. The same
text explains that the tuba was later used in battle to give orders because its sound
could reach where the voice of the herald could not be heard because of the uproar of
the fight. Pliny the Elder (HN 7.56.201) and Photius (λ 284 Theodoridis) attribute this
invention to Pisaeus the Tyrrhenian, eponym of the city of Pisa, while according to
Lactantius Placidus (ad Stat. Theb. 4.224, 6.382) the credit should go to Maleus, son
of Hercules and Omphale, king of the Etruscans and leader of pirates. The Etruscan
trumpets are also mentioned in ancient lists of trumpets written by other scholiasts
and in the Suda.17 Aristonicus (165 van der Valk) makes a clear further distinction
between the Greek instrument and the Etruscan, specifying the form of the former
and reporting that it was invented by Athena; then, in addition to the shape, he also
refers to the sound quality of the latter. However, in attributing the invention of the
Hellenic trumpet to Athena, he nevertheless demonstrates a link of this instrument
to the Etruscans by providing the detail—absent from other sources—that the Greek
goddess invented the trumpet for the Tyrrhenians.
16 Florence, Museo Archeologico Nazionale, inv. no. 83379/c, from Poggio dell’Impiccato, Tomb 1,
first half of the eighth century; see Delpino 2005, 346, 348, 350, pl. II; Li Castro 2012.
17 Aristonicus Schol. 2.18, 219b1, IV.474-475 Erbse; Eust. Il. 18.219.1139.54.IV.165 van der Valk; Sch.
Soph. Aj. 17 = Suda s.v. kōdōn.

The three different types of Etruscan trumpet, although they are not a frequent
subject in tomb paintings, are nonetheless represented in at least eighteen examples
in Tarquinia,18 seven in Orvieto,19 and two in Chiusi;20 a pair of cornua and two litui
are among the painted stucco reliefs decorating the Tomb of the Reliefs in Caere,
dating to the last quarter of the fourth century.21 Further iconographic evidence can
be drawn from the aforementioned repertoire of archaic funerary urns from Chiusi,22
from two stelae in the Museo Civico Archeologico in Bologna dating to the second
half of the fifth century,23 some late urns from Volterra,24 painted vases from Etruscan
workshops,25 bronze objects like the Situla Benvenuti26 (end of the seventh century)
and the Situla Arnoaldi27 (fifth century), and other significant finds.28 The different
occasions in which these instruments are shown include mainly funeral processions
for prominent people and warfare, confirming the great importance attributed by
the Etruscans to the various trumpets as symbols of military, political, or religious
power. Even the rites associated with the foundation of an Etruscan city could include
the use of a lituus.29 As noted by Cicero (Div. 1.30), this musical instrument and the
augural rod that is characteristic of the Etruscans are referred to with the same name
because of their resemblance. According to John Lydus (Mens. 4.73), this ritual instru-
ment was also used by Romulus in the founding of Rome, and a bronze specimen
from Tarquinia was retrieved in a votive pit, bent in two places and buried along with
an axe and a shield around 675 BCE, probably during such a rite.30 So far, five other
examples of Etruscan litui are more or less known, besides the one from Tarquinia:

19 In Golini Tomb II and the Tomb of the Hescana; see Steingräber 1984, no. 34, 285; no. 69, 314;
Martinelli 2007, 47–48, n. 47.
20 In the Tomba della Scimmia (Tomb of the Monkey) and the Tomba di Poggio Renzo; see Steingräber
1984, nos. 32–33, 284–85; Blanck and Proietti 1986, 24 nn. 95–96.
21 Blanck and Proietti 1986, 24–27, 42, fig. 6, 13, pls. XVIb, XXIId.
23 Castaldo 2010, 49–50, figs. 5–6.
24 For example, see Fleischhauer 1964, 42–43, figs. 16–17; Martinelli 2007, 48.
25 For example, an Etruscan black-figure amphora from Vulci (end of the sixth century) in the British
Museum (inv. no. B 64).
26 Cassola Guida 1997; Principi 2000, 373–74.
27 Macellari 2002, 200–202.
28 For example, a sarcophagus decorated with painted reliefs from Caere (fifth century) in the Museo
Gregoriano Etrusco, inv. no. 59; see Fleischhauer 1964, 40, fig. 15.
29 Briquel 1987; 2000, 41; Carandini 1997, 58–71, 211–15, 306–11, 559–63; Bonghi Jovino 2007, 6–9.
30 Bonghi Jovino 2007.

one from Vulci,31 another from Cortona,32 a fragment in the Badisches Landesmu-
seum in Karlsruhe,33 and two other instruments of unknown origin.34
An example of an Etruscan cornu without crossbar, dating to the first half of the
seventh century, has been found in Populonia,35 and two others, which were prob-
ably found in Tarquinia or nearby, and some related fragments are in the British
Museum.36 There is also one complete cornu with crossbar, the Corno Castellani, from
Tarquinia,37 where six crossbar elements and a mouthpiece, likely of bronze,38 are in
the local museum.39 Note that according to Strabo (5.2.2) trumpets, religious practices,
and music were imported to Rome direct from Tarquinia, and Athenaeus (4.184a) also
maintains that the cornu was invented by the Tyrrhenians.
One last relevant question concerns the mouthpiece of these instruments. While
the bronze mouthpieces of all surviving cornua are preserved, either open (as on
a conch trumpet or horn) or restricted (as on a modern trumpet or trombone), this
important part is missing in most of the litui that have been recovered.40 These mouth-
pieces may have been made of perishable materials such as wood or bone.41
Finally, some horns can be added to the list of wind instruments from the Etrus-
can area that are made of ivory or clay.42 One ivory example is from Palestrina43 and
31 Helbig 1963–72, 1:515–16, no. 682. The provenance of this find is alternatively assigned to Cerveteri,
for example by Behn 1912, fig. 7; Albini 1937; and Fleischhauer 1964, 44, fig. 19; on this question see
also Bonghi Jovino 1987, 72 n. 55.
32 Cortona, Museo dell’Accademia Etrusca e della Città di Cortona, without inv. no., around 600 BCE;
see Giulierini 2012; Bruschetti et al. 2012, 166, no. 39. The author wishes to thank Paolo Giulierini,
former director of the local museum, for allowing scholars to study this interesting specimen, which
was found bent in the same way as the lituus from Tarquinia.
33 Jurgeit 1999, 227–28, no. 367, pl. 111 (inv. F 298, provenance: Etruria; Riederer 1999, 315–16, no. 367).
34 The “Berlin lituus” is in the Stiftung Preußischer Kulturbesitz Staatliche Museen zu Berlin; the
author wishes to thank Peter Holmes for this information. The current whereabouts of the “London
lituus” (Sotheby’s 1982, no. 244; 1983, no. 549) are not known.
35 Florence, Museo Archeologico Nazionale, inv. no. 152342, from the Tumulo dei Carri, necropolis of
San Cerbone; see Sarti 2012b, figs. 16a–c.
36 Holmes 2010.
37 Rome, Museo Nazionale Etrusco di Villa Giulia, inv. no. 51216, fourth century BCE; see Jurgeit 2000.
39 Jurgeit 2005.
40 The “London lituus” appears to be the only one that has survived with its mouthpiece, but it is
difficult to take this evidence into account on the basis of nothing but the one available photo and
without any further detail. On the other hand, the “Cortona lituus” appears to have been provided
with a wooden mouthpiece, remnants of which are still inside the instrument’s receiver, but further
investigation is needed; see Holmes 2010, figs. 51–52.
41 Poll. 4.85–86: “The tube yard is made of bronze or iron, the mouthpiece is made of bone.”
42 Lat. bucina rather than cornu is more likely the proper term for these horns of horn or ivory, and
also for those in clay, as well as the conch trumpets; see Meucci 1983, 1989; Berlinzani 2007, 15, n. 8.
43 Rome, Museo Nazionale Etrusco di Villa Giulia, inv. 13229 (ivory, amber, and gold), from the Tomba
Barberini, first half of the seventh century; see Proietti 1980, 284, no. 396.

Fig. 30.2: Aerophones (no. 6), plectra (no. 7), chordophones

(nos. 8–10) and idiophones (no. 11): No. 6 (a) Situla of Provi-
dence, Museum of the Rhode Island School of Design; (b) urn
inv. no. 281, Guarnacci Museum, Volterra; (c) stone base inv.
no. 2248, Archaeological National Museum, Chiusi; (d) Bronze
inv. no. 470, British Museum, London. No. 7 (a) Plectrum from
Caere; (b) plectrum, National Museum of Musical Instruments,
Rome; (c) plectrum from Tarquinia. No. 8 Tomb of the Leopards,
Tarquinia. No. 9 Tomb of the Triclinium, Tarquinia. No. 10 Stone
relief inv. no. 62888, Archaeological National Museum, Chiusi.
No. 11 Two tintinnabula from Villanova, Bologna

another possible one44 is from the tomb mentioned above in Populonia.45 In addition,
at least two clay horns are known: one from Civita Castellana46 and one from Mon-
tereggi.47
1.3 Flutes
The last two aerophones to be included in the archaeological record of Etruscan civili-
zation are the Pan flute or syrinx (Fig. 30.2.6) and the transverse (or side-blown) flute.
The former is depicted in the Tomb of the Jugglers in Tarquinia and on some carved
urns from Volterra, a stone base from Chiusi, and some bronze objects like the Situla
della Certosa and the Cortona lamp.48 The latter is likely represented on one of the
aforementioned late urns from Volterra49 (end of the third century), and certainly on
a late sculptural urn (around 100 BCE) from Perugia.50
2 String instruments (chordophones)

Although the family of wind instruments is by far the most often mentioned in ancient
sources, the most represented group in iconography, and seemingly the dominant
player in the Etruscan soundscape, string instruments are also widely attested.
Remnants of such perishable instruments are not known, or not yet identified, but
several plectra, usually made of ivory and displaying elaborate shapes (Fig. 30.2.7),
have been discovered in burials from various sites, such as Caere,51 Tarquinia,52 and
44 It has also been interpreted as a drinking horn; see Romualdi 1997. Unfortunately, a related
fragment that according to Minto 1943, 119, was a possible mouthpiece, “almond-shaped, with an
elliptical hole,” is currently lost.
45 The Tumulo dei Carri, in the Necropoli di San Cerbone. Florence, Museo Archeologico Nazionale,
inv. 222027 (ivory, silver, and gold); see Romualdi 1997; Martinelli 2007, 46–47.
46 Rome, Museo degli Strumenti Musicali, sixth century; see Cervelli 1994, 51.
47 Montelupo Fiorentino, Museo Archeologico, inv. 114918, end of fifth – fourth century; see Alderighi
2012.
48 For a discussion of all these items, see Jannot 2010.
49 Jannot 2010, 178 n. 13.
50 Fleischhauer 1964, 44, fig. 20; Fleischhauer 1995, 192–93, fig. 6.
51 Rizzo 1989, 154, pl. Ib.
52 Cataldi 1993, 119–20.

Vulci,53 spanning a period from the first half of the seventh to the first half of the sixth
century.54
All of the string instruments represented in Etruscan iconography belong to
the same family as the Greek lyra (Fig. 30.2.8), barbiton (Fig. 30.2.9), and kithara
(Fig. 30.2.10), which are instruments composed of a hollow body—the soundbox—as
resonator,55 with two arms coupled by a crossbar—the yoke—fixed across their upper
part, and provided with strings of equal length.56 The earliest depiction of an instru-
ment of this kind, a sort of proto-kithara (or a phorminx)57 with seven strings and
played with a plectrum, appears on one of the oldest painted figural vases found in
Etruria. It is an outstanding amphora, probably from Caere and dating to c. 670, and is
attributed to a painter fittingly known as the Heptachord Painter (Fig. 16.3).58 Another
odd-shaped chordophone is shown on the aforementioned Situla della Certosa59
along with the syrinx, but the main types depicted so often on tomb paintings,60 and
represented on a great number of objects of Etruscan origin,61 have the usual features
of the Greek models and clearly indicate their extensive adoption. The exception to
this rule is the imposing “concert kithara” so often painted on black- and red-figure
Attic vases, which was probably known, but not really used, by the Etruscans.62
53 Rizzo 1990, 126, fig. 257.

54 Additional plectra of Etruscan origin, stored in various museums, have been recorded but remain
unpublished.
55 Possibly made from a turtle shell or a gourd, or of wood.
56 Further discussion of Etruscan string instruments in Jannot 1979; Lawergren 1984; 1993; 2007;
Sarti 1993; 2010.
57 The phorminx is possibly a similar type of string instrument, with a rounded crescent-shaped
soundbox and often with elaborate arms, represented in iconographical sources dating back to the
Aegean Bronze Age; on the phorminx see Younger 1998, 18–27.
58 Würzburg, Martin von Wagner-Museum, inv. no. ZA 66 (Martelli 1987, 18, 92, 262–63, no. 38;
1988; 2001, 2–7; for further discussion of this amphora see also Pairault-Massa 1992, 16–18, figs. 1–2;
Menichetti 1994, 48–49, fig. 30; Simon 1995a; 1995b. In the extensive literature on the meaning of
the scene on the amphora, very few lines have been dedicated to the unusual shape of the arms of
the musical instrument. They have a winding shape with two joined S-curves, like the outline of an
inverted guitar; see Li Castro and Scardina 2011.
59 Lawergren (1993, 75; 2007, 137) compares this example with an instrument represented on a Minoan
seal; the comparison, though questionable, is rather fitting from an organological point of view.
60 In Tarquinia there are at least thirty-four depictions of these instruments; see n. 10 above.
61 For example, these instruments are represented at least fourteen times on the urns from Chiusi;
see footnote 11 above.
62 The classic Greek kithara is seldom represented in Etruscan context, and the few examples likely
indicate poor knowledge of this complex string instrument, as in the Tomba della Pulcella (Tomb of
the Maiden) in Tarquinia (Steingräber 2006, 158); on this aspect, see Lawergren 2007, 127–28, fig. 5;
Sarti 2010, 187–88.

3 Percussion instruments
(idiophones and membranophones)
The instruments usually included in the percussion family are of two different types—
the idiophones, which create sound primarily through the instrument’s vibration
set in motion by various actions (hitting, shaking, scraping, plucking, rubbing, or
moving air),63 and the membranophones, which produce sound primarily through a
vibrating stretched membrane, namely drums.
3.1 Idiophones
The oldest sounding tools from the pre-Etruscan period are the pear- or gourd-shaped
clay rattles, decorated with thin sheets of tin, from the Early Iron Age burial sites of
Tarquinia and Verucchio, dated to around 900.64 Several rattles of similar shape and
size, very often decorated, have been discovered at various sites in central Italy;65 most
of these are made of clay except for one pre-Etruscan bronze specimen from Veii66
and some other bronze rattles from various Etruscan sites.67 In addition, some small
bronze idiophones, such as bells,68 tintinnabula (Fig. 30.2.11),69 and other sounding
objects,70 have been found in Etruscan sites but none of these instruments is repre-
sented elsewhere or mentioned by ancient sources. The only type of idiophone that is
clearly and widely represented in iconography is a sort of large thick castanets which,
after the Greek term, the Latins called crotala. They are always shown being played by
dancers, and are depicted on tomb paintings,71 carved on Archaic funerary urns from
Chiusi,72 and displayed on various artifacts, particularly on some bronze finials in the
63 Including bells, cymbals, rattles, scrapers, jaw harps, singing bowls, and many other objects
that can be simply identified as sound tools, or sometime considered only as symbols of prestige,
ornaments, or toys, such as sticks with suspended elements, bracelets, anklets, jingles, etc.; on these
categories of musical objects in Etruscan context, see Carrese 2010; Maggiani 2013.
64 Li Castro 2008.
65 Brocato and Zhara Buda 1996.
66 Cavallotti Batchvarova 1967, 244–50 (tomb GG 6–7), fig. 98, no. 8.
67 Maggiani 2013.
68 Jurgeit 1999, 228–31, pl. 112; Riederer 1999, 315–16, nos. 368, 379.
69 Morigi Govi 1971.
70 For example, a hollow armilla with tinkling particles of bronze inside, in the Museo Archeologico
Nazionale in Chiusi, inv. no. 62782 (P. 785a), Collection Paolozzi, without provenance; see Iozzo 2009;
Berutti 2012.
71 In Tarquinia there are at least nine depictions of crotala; see footnote 10 above.
72 In this repertoire the crotala are represented at least three times; see footnote 11 above.

shape of dancing statuettes.73 The crotala may have been made of perishable material
like wood, because no surviving example is yet known.
3.2 Membranophones
Notwithstanding the wide diffusion of membranophones all around the Mediterra-

nean area during the same period—particularly the frame drum—called tympanon
in Greek and tympanum in Latin, this class of instruments is the most puzzling and
elusive aspect of the Etruscan musical tradition. No evidence of this instrument exists
in the archaeological record, not a single mention is made by Greek or Latin authors,
no surviving depictions in tomb paintings exist, and it would appear that the Etrus-
cans seldom depicted frame drums—or any other kind of drum—anywhere else. Few
red-figure vases that show a tympanum appear to be from Etruscan workshops;74
other vases from the same period depicting tympana are to be found in Tarquinia,75
Tuscania,76 Orvieto,77 and other Etruscan sites,78 but all of them were probably pro-
duced in the workshops of émigré Faliscan painters, and this population, though geo-
graphically close and related to Etruria, is ethnically distinct. If the Etruscans were
beating their drums, they indeed have kept that beat secret for a long time.79
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74 For instance: Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, Cabinet des Médailles, inv. no. 918, calyx-krater by the
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78 Ambrosini 2004.
79 On this specific aspect, see Li Castro 2010.

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31 Etruscan gold dental appliances
Abstract: Dental appliances and retention bands, the forerunners of modern dental bridges (pontics),
were invented by the Etruscans over 2,500 years ago. The earliest known example, from the ancient
site of Satricum in Latium vetus, dates to ca. 650 BCE. Most of the known examples derive from Etrus-
can archaeological contexts in Italy. Some retention bands and complex bridges appear to be Roman
adaptations of Etruscan technology. Etruscan forms went out of use as their culture was dominated
and then absorbed by the Romans.
A significant recent discovery is that the Etruscan appliances were worn only by females, sug-
gesting that cosmetics and vanity was the principal “dental” concern of these people. Also newly
recognized is the specificity of the Etruscan pontics within the southern Etruscan region. The limited
distribution of dental appliances provides a warning regarding attempts to view women’s roles as
similar across the widely divergent cultures that were all part of the Classical world. In turn, these
specific data make clear the wide variations in gender roles present throughout the ancient world.
Keywords: gold dental appliances, dental pontics, Etruscan women, ancient medicine
Introduction
Ancient literary sources include many references to gold dental appliances. These
were well known long before the first actual example was recovered from an archaeo-
logical context at the end of the eighteenth century.1 Etruscan goldsmithing skills are
well documented in numerous outstanding publications,2 but their primacy in apply-
ing these arts to “dentistry” is less well known. More than 2,600 years ago, Etruscan
goldworking talents were used to fashion complex cosmetic dental appliances, some
of which had therapeutic value as well. Recent discoveries in physical anthropology,
archaeology, the ancient literature, and social anthropology enable us to reexamine
and understand specific aspects of the lives of southern Etruscan women. In turn, the
written accounts and the archaeological record relating to other aspects of Etruscan
life can be reviewed and further investigated.
Since 1885, an extensive literature has emerged dealing with the subject of these
ancient appliances. Recent evidence indicates that the earliest examples date from
the seventh century BCE. Nearly a dozen ancient dental appliances, in an amazing
variety of shapes and sizes, are now known.3 All appear fashioned from natural gold,
which generally has a high silver content.4
1 Böttiger 1797.
2 E.g. De Puma 1987.
3 Becker and MacIntosh Turfa 2017.
4 Becker 2003.
524 Marshall Joseph Becker
While frequently cited by archaeologists, these ancient prostheses tend to be a

subject more frequently discussed by dental or medical historians. Since Victor Den-
effe’s early effort, we have seen a considerable number of inventories emerge, and
Mario Tabanelli attempts a true catalogue.5 Assembling a complete corpus of Etruscan
and other ancient dental appliances permits an evaluation of all aspects of this type
of ancient technology. Dental as well as other ancient prosthetic devices are reviewed
by Lawrence Bliquez, who also presents specific information regarding various dental
prostheses and their history.6 The Bliquez inventory includes many of the best avail-
able photographs of these items.7
Very little archaeological data relating to these prostheses is known.8 Descrip-
tions of the prostheses themselves are generally so poor as to foster errors in the lit-
erature. These various difficulties can be remedied only by detailed studies of each of
the appliances. Don Clawson began careful studies of the limited dental and skeletal
materials found in association with these prostheses.9 His efforts, plus a review of the
limited archaeological data, have provided new views of this subject.10 Also important
in understanding the contexts within which these appliances were made and used is
the literary evidence11 and the relationship of practitioners of medicine to those who
performed dental extractions.12 Collectively, this evidence provides an indication of
how widely available this type of prosthetic device was to the ancient Etruscan elite,13
and later to the Romans, reflecting a long history which can be documented archaeo-
logically. The manufacture of dental appliances clearly was a skilled activity of gold-
smiths or other craftsmen, rather than the work of barbers or physicians.
1 History: The origins of dental appliances

The earliest records of “dental care” appear in Egyptian medical papyri of the sev-
enteenth and sixteenth centuries BCE.14 These texts, however, relate only to medical
treatments of the mouth and gums; references to dental prostheses are entirely
absent. Many Egyptian texts long predate the Hippocratic corpus but are important
in understanding the early history of dental medicine. Treatments for oral diseases
5 Deneffe 1899; Sudhoff 1926; Casotti 1947; Tabanelli 1963.

6 Bliquez 1996.
7 See also Emptoz 1987.
8 See Cozza and Pasqui 1981; Waarsenburg 1995.
9 Clawson 1934.
10 Becker 2005.
12 Becker 2014.
13 Becker 1990.
14 Badre 1986.

31 Etruscan gold dental appliances 525
long predate the development of dental appliances, which first emerge in the Etrus-
can world in the seventh century.15
Dental prostheses from Near Eastern regions all date to the fifth century or later.16
Vincenzo Guerini suggested that the Egyptians may have decorated teeth with gold
after death, but he recognized that they produced no dental prostheses.17 The Near
Eastern prostheses were all fashioned from gold or silver wire and were intended to
stabilize loose teeth. The ancient Near Eastern technique was still being used in Euro-
pean and North American dentistry well into the twentieth century.
François Emptoz’s outstanding summary of the evidence reveals that in 1914
Hermann Junker found what was called “wired teeth” in a tomb at Giza dating from
2500 BCE.18 Emptoz concluded that these “teeth” were actually an amulet, and I
concur. The supposed primacy of Egyptian or Phoenician dental appliances19 is
nowhere supported by direct evidence. Clawson put it best when he stated that “con-
trary to the beliefs of various writers,” whom he cites, “detached archaeological speci-
mens of Egyptian prosthetic dentistry do not seem to exist.”20
The precise origins of dental appliances predate the sixth century. By 630 BCE, a
high- status resident of ancient Satricum was buried wearing a complex and sophisti-
cated gold dental appliance.21 This find suggests that skills in the production of dental
prostheses extend at least back to the middle of the seventh century. The archaeologi-
cal evidence spanning the next few hundred years has revealed the general availabil-
ity of such gold prosthetic devices in Etruria. The number buried in tombs is indicated
clearly by the many examples which survive,22 as well as a specific reference to them
in the ancient Roman literature; in the Law of the Twelve Tables. This law sought to
restrict the burial of gold dental appliances with their owners, perhaps to reduce mor-
tuary ostentation but also to discourage tomb looters.
The Etruscans were the first to develop true dental bridges (pontics). These
devices generally provided a distinct ring or separated space for each tooth and were
anchored to sound teeth. These appliances usually provided the means for replacing
one or two missing teeth. Quite interesting, however, is the fact that no examples of
gold bridgework appear to survive from the period of the later Roman Republic or the
Empire, although literary references clearly attest to their presence. Bliquez rightly
dismisses Guerini’s suggestion that by the Late Republic, full sets of removable den-
15 See also Bliquez 1996: 2659, n. 18, citing Hoffmann-Axthelm 1985, 28–31, 38–39.
16 Becker 1997, amending Masali and Peluso 1985; Corruccini and Pacciani 1989, 61.
17 Guerini 1909, 28.
18 See Becker 1997.
19 Lufkin 1948; Woodforde 1967.
20 Emptoz 1987, 546; Clawson 1934, 23–24.
21 Waarsenburg 1995:366; Becker and MacIntosh Turfa 2017, no. 18.
22 Cf. Becker 1999b.

tures were being produced.23 Even if this were the case, a demand for bridges would
have continued, and later examples should be known. Roman prostheses were being
removed before burial, or were looted from graves. Poor documentation when recov-
ered may have led to the inclusion of examples in the corpus without appropriate
archaeological documentation that would allow us to assign a correct date.
2 Functions
While all the known Etruscan dental appliances appear to be cosmetic, the later
Roman examples generally were functional. A few simple gold bands, in the form of
long ovals, are known from Etruscan as well as Roman contexts, but no dates can be
assigned to them.24 The lengths of these bands indicate that three or more teeth were
circled by a single loop. Some of the simple bands may have been purely ornamental,
but others may have been used to stabilize teeth loosened by a blow or by periodontal
disease. Both cosmetic and functional dental appliances are mentioned in the ancient
texts.25 The Etruscan examples of dental bridges are particularly interesting because
they uniformly replace one or both upper central incisors.26 Since these teeth are the
least likely to be lost naturally to decay or periodontal woes, the evidence strongly sug-
gests deliberate removal.27 Deliberate extraction (evulsion) of incisors is a common
cultural practice around the world, although Italic examples are less well known.28
These cosmetic appliances, designed to fill the gap left by teeth deliberately removed,
would also serve the maintain the remaining teeth in their correct places, although
it may not have been an intended feature of the appliances. A well-fitted ornamental
false tooth would assure continued proper articulation of the remaining teeth and
their continued efficient function. This is one of the principal goals of modern ortho-
dontics. The individual’s own teeth, deliberately removed, could be recycled by being
cut down and fitted into the appliance inserted into the owner’s mouth. “Recycling”
one’s own teeth would also guarantee a correct color and size match.29
The Latin poet Martial (ca. 39 – ca. 103 CE) indicated that various substitutes for
human teeth were commonly employed in antiquity, such as bone or ivory (Spect.
1.72). Even the tooth of an ox is incorporated into one Roman appliance. I agree with
Bliquez and others that goldsmiths, ivory carvers, and other artisans fabricated these
23 Guerini 1909, 100. See Bliquez 1996: 2661.

24 See Becker 1999b.
26 Becker 1992b.
27 Becker 2002.
28 See Robb 1997a, 1997b.
29 Becker 1995b; see also Guerini 1909, 71–73, 79; Deneffe 1899, 78; Casotti 1947, 669.

Fig. 31.1: Etruscan gold dental appliance. Already collection

R. Aichmeir, Linz (photo R. Aichmeir)
appliances.30 The makers fitted these devices as cosmetologists, independent of the

dentists, who did extractions, or the physicians, who prescribed for diseases of the
mouth.
An Etruscan dental appliance maker required the skills of a goldsmith who could
also fashion the false teeth and do the fitting (Fig. 31.1). Such a person would have
been an extremely talented craftsman. Knowledge of tooth shapes and the fitting
of gold bands to them is highly developed in the Copenhagen example. When well
installed, a complex appliance provided a much better fit and greater stability for
the teeth than is achieved through the use of a single long gold band. The individual
rings of the appliances provide us with a direct indication of the measurements of the
anterior teeth of the individuals who wore these appliances. These measurements are
uniformly within the range of Etruscan female dentition.
3 The Copenhagen bridge: A unique ancient

dental pontic
The best described of all the surviving examples of Etruscan dental appliances is
the example in the Department of Near Eastern and Classical Antiquities, Danish
National Museum, Copenhagen. This piece serves as a good example of ring-con-
structed Etruscan pontic. The Copenhagen specimen, believed to have come from
Orvieto, was known as early as 1927, when it was probably found in a major tomb.31 It
30 Bliquez 1996: 2662; Guerini 1909, 102; Hoffmann-Axthelm 1985, 30 n.

31 Riis 1941, 161; Poulsen 1927, 47.

was mentioned or illustrated thereafter by several authors.32 Detailed descriptions of

the appliance and the associated teeth became available more recently.33
The Copenhagen appliance is a complex variation of a simple gold band type that
was meant to encircle several teeth. There are at least four variations in construc-
tion among the score of dental appliances known.34 The Copenhagen appliance was
assembled from three small separate gold rings, or “loops.” Each of the three loops
of the Copenhagen appliance is seamless, formed by drawing out a ring from a solid
piece of gold or by making a small loop from a strip of gold by cold welding the ends.35
The lateral loops were then joined at their adjacent surfaces by invisible cold welds.
The lateral loops were curved in such a way as to conform to the base of each dental
crown, with specific fitting done after the false tooth had been set in place and the
appliance was ready to be inserted. The three small gold loops were then carefully
fitted or custom designed to surround both “anchor” teeth and the false tooth, now
missing. Anchor or “post” teeth are the sound or living teeth to which the bridge was
attached to hold it in place. This appliance, like all the Etruscan examples, was meant
to be worn in the upper jaw of an adult female. The lateral loops in this example were
fitted over the upper left central incisor (1I) and the right lateral incisor (I2), with
the right central incisor (I1) being “replaced.” No rivet was used to hold the false or
replacement tooth in the center ring of the Copenhagen appliance, although this was
the most common method used in other Etruscan examples.
The central band was formed as a sharply rectangular “box.” The replacement
tooth, either the one deliberately removed or a substitute of ivory or bone, would have
been a “crown” only. If not the cut-down (root-removed) original, this replacement
would have been carved with its upper, exposed portion mimicking the tooth that it
replaced. The lower part or base of the false tooth was square-cut to fit into the “box.”
The angular shape would prevent it from slipping or rotating in its fitted collar. No
rivet (pin) was needed since the false tooth was held in place the way a gemstone
is fixed in a setting: this small rectangular band held the false tooth just as a gold-
smith would insert a gem into a bezel setting. The false tooth was secured in place by
pressing the soft gold tightly around it. The bridge has a design remarkably similar
to modern examples. The appliance was meant to be a permanent fixture, although
direct use of the replacement tooth would loosen the appliance. The Copenhagen-
type pontic was more effective than bridges incorporating only a single long band
with teeth riveted into position in the center, as in the Liverpool examples.36
32 Johnstone 1932a, 132 n., pl. 94.17–18 (cf. Johnstone 1932b); Marvitz 1982, 49; Pot 1985, 38–39;
Bliquez 1996: 2656–57.
33 Becker 1992b, 1994a, 1995a.
34 E.g. Becker 1994b, 1996.
35 Becker 1994a.
36 Johnstone 1932a, 1932b; Becker and MacIntosh Turfa 2017.

Anthropological techniques provide new means of interpreting the considerable

body of existing evidence from the Classical world. Recently collected biological data
relating to these appliances plus the use of cultural models provided by social anthro-
pologists enables us to decode this extensive array of data in ways that make clear
aspects of gender roles present in ancient Etruria. A detailed description appears
elsewhere,37 but of particular interest here are the measurements of the three teeth
involved, as indicated by the dimensions of the gold rings and the portions of teeth
that survive. These can be inferred both from direct measurement as well as by com-
parison with photographs taken when the associated teeth were better preserved.38
Direct study of the anthropometric data reveals that these dental appliances were
worn only by women.39 This is evident from the size of the teeth involved. These are
in the female range, much smaller than the teeth of males in this same population.
Based on comparative dental wear, the woman represented by the teeth in the Copen-
hagen appliance appears to be over thirty years of age, but probably under fifty.
These comparisons are possible because we now have available extensive dental
information from a central Italic Iron Age population.40 More specifically we now
have considerable dental data from later periods at the southern Etruscan city of
Tarquinia,41 where the greatest concentration of these appliances was found. The evi-
dence clearly demonstrates that only women wore these appliances. The gendered
use of these appliances is reinforced by the archaeological evidence from one of the
two known contexts for which any excavated evidence had been recorded. Obviously,
the actual measurements of the involved teeth are more clearly documented from the
individual loops of the pontics than can be inferred from gold bands. The possibility
that dental loss was a result of leprosy has been considered, but rejected due to the
gender specificity of the known examples.
4 Discussion
Comparison of the newly available evidence from the Etruscan skeletal record42 also
indicates that the loss of upper central incisors, the teeth most commonly replaced by
these Etruscan pontics, would have been an extremely rare phenomenon in women
under the age of sixty.43 This correlates with other evidence suggesting that the delib-
37 Becker 2005.
38 See Marvitz 1982, 49.
39 Becker 1994b.
40 E.g. Becker and Salvadei 1992.
41 Becker 1990, 1993, 2000.
42 Becker 2000.
43 Becker 2002.

erate removal of healthy incisors from these women was necessary to enable these
decorative appliances to be worn.44
These discoveries bring us back to the literary evidence, and in particular to the
many ancient texts indicating that Etruscan men and women dined together. Etrus-
can gender relationships were unlike those of the Romans and Greeks, who practiced
gender “avoidance” while eating and saw the Etruscan cultural form as disturbing
(see chapter 14 Colivicchi). Like the Etruscan use of decorative dental appliances,
these dining customs faded as the Roman Empire altered the behaviors of the Etrus-
can elite in the first century BCE.
Long ago, Rodolfo Lanciani noted that the tombstone of an ancient Roman dentist
named Victorinus had an instrument of his trade depicted on it—a pair of dental for-
ceps.45 Other medical practitioners in Rome, of both Greek and Roman origin, also
had similar tools shown on their funerary monuments.46 The numerous medical kits
known from antiquity, however, do not include the specialized tools that are needed
by the goldsmith. Nor do we find any literary evidence that suggests that gold dental
appliances were fashioned by any of the people more directly involved in the medical
arts.47 We can also reject the thesis that any of these appliances was used to effect
a deliberate shifting of teeth. Orthodontics is clearly a twentieth-century invention
dependent on modern developments in metallurgy and other areas. Dental implants
were also made possible only by later twentieth-century technology.48
A distribution map of ancient dental appliances demonstrates that this tech-
nology appears to have been concentrated in southern Etruria.49 The few examples
found beyond the borders of this specific part of ancient Etruria can be explained
by two factors relating to the movement of the Etruscan women wearing these appli-
ances. These women may have been buried outside their native territories as a result
of high-status marriage alliances between upper class Etruscan mercantile families
and foreign trading partners; or they may have been accompanying their husbands
who ventured beyond their homeland while conducting the business that made the
Etruscans wealthy. These inferences are but a small part of the complex patterns that
can be reconstructed through a detailed study of the surviving corpus of dental appli-
ances.
The evidence also suggests that the use of these appliances was not a cultural
custom found throughout the Etruscan realm.50 Unless there were radically different
44 Cf. Robb 1997a, 1997b.

45 Lanciani 1892, 353.
46 Lanciani 1892; Jackson 1988, 119.
47 Bliquez 1996: 2662; Becker 1998.
48 Becker 1999a, also 1994c.
49 Becker 2002
50 Cf. Becker 1992a.

mortuary patterns in central and northern Etruria, perhaps involving the removal of
such appliances from the deceased, we must conclude that this technology was a part
of the ornamentation of women primarily found in southern Etruria.
Of considerable interest is the evolution of this technology. The earliest dated
example of a dental appliance is the Satricum appliance, from no later than 650. This
has a hollow gold tooth attached to a thin band and is the only one to use a gold
replacement tooth.51 Since we have no evidence to indicate that this hollow-tooth
technique was ever repeated, we may conclude that it was soon discontinued. This
suggests that by 600 the use of false teeth—human, or carved to look like natural
teeth—had become the fashion. This appears to relate to the finding that where a spe-
cific evaluation of gender has been made, all those wearing these gold bands were
women.
At this time we have no means of dating most of the gold dental appliances known
from ancient Italy. However, as Mary Johnstone indicated, the Etruscans clearly were
the first to construct true dental bridges.52 The tentative sequence for these dental
appliances suggests a constant, if slow, development in the techniques of applying
dental bridges. Any apparent improvement need not reflect chronological aspects of
ancient dentistry. The use of a more successful method of fitting a dental appliance
may reflect only the greater concern of this “dentist,” or the greater skills of a gold-
smith who was fashioning the bridge. Various examples suggest that a few talented
individuals may have carried their craft to unusual heights, but those achievements
did not continue after the decline of ancient Rome, being reinvented centuries later by
modern practitioners. If the Copenhagen bridge represents an evolved form of dental
appliance within the ancient world, then we can see a stage from which the next
logical step would be the formation of a solid gold tooth which might have mastica-
tion among its functional aspects.
5 Conclusions
1. The earliest pontics were made by Etruscans solely for decorative purposes. Any
influence they had in retarding the shifting of teeth would have been purely coin-
cidental.
2. The deliberate evulsion of teeth was fundamental to the process of providing a
place to install these pontics, a pattern very different from the modern concept of
preservative dentistry.
51 Waarsenburg 1990; Becker 1999c.

52 Johnstone 1932b, 448.

3. Only women wore these appliances, and perhaps only in southern Etruria.
4. Gold bands or braces that had no false teeth attached may have been employed
for functional reasons, such as to prevent the movement or loss of teeth loosened
by a blow or by periodontal disease.
Acknowledgements
My most sincere thanks are due Dr. Jean MacIntosh Turfa and the many people who
facilitated studies of Etruscan dental appliances at the museums where they are now
found. Special thanks are due to Prof. L. Bliquez for sharing his extensive data during
all phases of this research. Partial funding for aspects of this research was provided
by a series of small travel grants awarded by the College of Arts and Sciences at West
Chester University. The aid of Profs. D. McConatha and Martin Murphy is particularly
appreciated. Thanks are due to the late Prof. Adele Ré and other Italian colleagues for
help at various points in these studies. Thanks also are due to the Members of Con-
gress of the United States of America for their support of tax laws that stimulate and
encourage research in this and other areas of inquiry. The ideas presented here, as
well as any errors of fact or interpretation, are solely my own responsibility.
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Part 2: III. History
Adriano Maggiani
32 The Historical Framework
Abstract: To adequately follow the long itinerary of the Etruscans, it is necessary to go back to the
End Bronze Age (twelfth–tenth centuries BCE), a time when there were many different cultures in the
Italian peninsula, among which, the Proto-Villanovan occupied a large part of central Italy. It is likely
that the bearers of this and other contemporary cultures corresponded to many ethnic groups. At the
beginning of the Iron Age (1000–730), the communities of tiny villages of central mid-Tyrrhenian Italy
came together in large inhabited centers, called “proto-urban” in the literature, which correspond to
the Etruscan cities. The material culture of these centers also diffused into other regions of the penin-
sula, such as Emilia-Romagna (around Bologna and Verucchio), the Marches (Fermo), northern Cam-
pania (around Capua), southern Campania (around Pontecagnano and Sala Consilina), which can
be interpreted equally as districts of Etruscan culture, each with its own history. Thanks to a strong
inclination toward commerce and long-distance relations, these communities came into contact with
other cultures that existed on the peninsula and in adjacent regions, both north of the Alps and along
the Mediterranean coasts. The exploitation of the extraordinary natural resources available in Etruria
led to the flourishing of the Orientalizing culture (730–580). In the western Mediterranean, this saw
the arrival of goods, men, and ideas from the eastern Mediterranean and the Near East. In this period,
gentilic aristocracies made their name, using their family names to underline their membership
in that group. In the Archaic period (580–450), the individual cities promoted their relations with
regions beyond the Italian peninsula and began the flow of commerce especially toward Gaul and
northern Africa. An encounter with the Greek world, represented especially by the colony of Syracuse,
became inevitable. The naval battle won by the Syracusans at Cumae brought about a new balance of
power in the western Mediterranean. In the Classical and Hellenistic periods (450–250), encounters
with the Greek world continued, and they had to confront the Gauls, who had penetrated central Italy,
and the growing power of Rome. The skillful policies carried out by the Roman republic, which knew
very well how to exploit the fragile cohesion of the Etruscan world, conquered one city after another,
bringing about the loss of political autonomy for the Etruscans, who were assimilated into the world
of Rome (250–90), sharing the internal vicissitudes.
Keywords: Late Bronze Age, Iron Age, Archaic period, Hellenism, Republican period
Introduction: An Etruscan history

When Dionysius of Halicarnassus wrote the early history of Rome at the end of the first
century BCE, Etruria had for about a century been a part of the Roman state, along
with all the other ethnic-geographic regions of the Italian peninsula. But unlike these
other peoples, the Etruscans appeared in the eyes of the historian to be a population
unlike any other in language, religious customs, and culture. This Etruscan deviation,
the historian goes on to tell us, had favored the proliferation of various traditions on
the origins of the people, most of which claimed that they were immigrants to the
peninsula, whereas Dionysius himself was inclined to consider them autochthonous
(Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 1.30).
The Etruscans themselves had developed a tradition concerning their genesis as

a people. According to Varro1 in the Tuscae Historiae, written in the eighth century
of the Etruscan calendar, or the second century BCE, it was made known that the
people of Etruria had all ten saecula of existence, and it was specified how many
had elapsed and how long they would continue to exist. The calculation reported
by Varro anticipated on the whole a duration of seven “centuries” already passed (a
saeculum was a measure of time that was not fixed, but variable, calculated according
to the lifespan of the longest-lived man in any generation) amounting to 761 years; the
eighth “century” was in progress when the Historiae were written; two more “cen-
turies” remained before the nomen etruscum would come to an end. This tradition,
which is also mentioned by Dio Cassius (57.18.3–5), Plutarch (Sull. 7), and the Suda,2
was accepted literally as fixing the beginning of the nomen—that is, the moment of
the onset of a self-aware ethnic group; roughly speaking, in the tenth century bce.
This is a date that in terms of the major temporal divisions of modern proto-history
coincides with the last gasp of the Bronze Age.3
1 From the Bronze Age to the Iron Age

(10th cent–730 BCE)
1.1 From (apparent) homogeneity to differentiation
The Late Bronze Age was dominated in Italy by an ensemble of archaeological facies,
that have in common a certain number of uniform characteristics, which has been
given the name “proto-Villanovan.” Behind this label, however, a variety of realities
are concealed.
Archaeological research has identified many independent regional typological
groups, which paved the way for clearer distinctions that characterized the Iron Age
that followed. To grossly oversimplify, we can say that many of these groups or local
facies (roughly, archaeological horizons) developed uninterruptedly into the Iron Age
and beyond. Definite phenomena of continuity are found, for example, in some parts
of northwestern Italy (from where it passed from the facies known as “Proto-Golasec-
can” of the Late Bronze to the Golaseccan culture of the Iron Age) and of northeast-
ern Italy (from the previously defined “Proto-Venetic” culture to the Venetic), and in
Latium as well (phases I–II of the “Latium culture”).
1 Censorinus, DN 17.6.
2 Suda 4 p. 609 Adler.
3 On the tradition of the Etruscan saecula, fundamental is Thulin 1905–1909, vol. 3: Die ritual Bücher
und zur Geschichte und Organisation der Haruspices, 63–75. Also Harris 1971, 12–13, 35–36.

32 The Historical Framework 539
The situation is more complex in central Italy, where there was a distinct Mid-
Tyrrhenian facies, which in turn included five local groups. Among these, the south-
ern boundary of the Tolfa-Allumiere group, located in northern Latium and southern
Tuscany, is marked by the Tiber, while to the north it is defined by a line from Bisenzio
to Sovana and the course of the Fiora. Farther north, a distinct typological group has
been identified called the “Cetona-Chiusi,” which included inner Tuscany and part of
the Umbrian area including Perugia and Spoleto, and presents noteworthy connec-
tions with the coast of the Marches. In northern maritime Tuscany, cultural aspects
are outlined less clearly, but with some connections with the Cetona-Chiusi group.
The recognition of this dichotomy in the cultural aspects of the Late Bronze Age
in the territory that would become Etruria proper is of great interest, in that it seems
to have an exact counterpart in the following historical age. Between the Arno and
the Tiber, that is, it is possible to distinguish already in the Late Bronze two great cul-
tural regions that coincide impressively with what in the historical age would become
northern and southern Etruria, differentiated not only by aspects of the material
culture, but also by features of their language and script.
1.2 Continuity and discontinuity
If from the point of view of the material culture there were undeniable elements of
continuity between the Proto-Villanovan and the Villanovan of Etruria, the panorama
of the population between the Bronze Age and the Early Iron Age in this area is char-
acterized by a clear change in the style of settlement. In fact, it went from many small
“Proto-Villanovan” hamlets to a very few substantially sized built-up locations placed
in strategically important spots, where several hundred individuals might gather,
which coincide in large part with the historical cities of Etruria. These new major
complexes have been called “proto-urban centers,” a term that is ambiguous but has
nevertheless entered the lexicon. The phenomenon, which undoubtedly represents
a traumatic and epochal event, especially because of its simultaneous appearance
everywhere in the territory that would later become Etruria, might have had various
causes; in any case it presupposes a very powerful authority able to garner a broad
consensus.
Another element that distinguishes the two periods involves funerary practices.
In the necropolises from the end of the Bronze Age, there are signs of a degree of
social diversity (the aristocracy that Ferrante Rittatore Vonwiller recognized in the
burial tumuli of Crostoletto di Lamone), but in those of the beginning of the Iron Age
a pronounced egalitarianism predominates.
At the same time as the phenomenon of synoecism (Gk. synoikismós, amalga-
mation of villages), a transformation seems to have taken place from an economy in
which the land and livestock were property of the community, typical of the Bronze

Age, to an economy dominated by private possession of land by hereditary title (the

Romulean heredium appears to be its mythistorical variant).
Like many of the great historical cultures, the Etruscan culture began to get
under way at the end of the Bronze Age. In this case, however, the distinctive element
appears to be the phenomenon of synoecism, which characterizes the dawn of the
Iron Age, not only in southern Etruria but in the northern region as well, as shown by
the examples of Populonia, Volterra, Chiusi, and Vetulonia.
The cultural continuity in the aforementioned regions (Piedmont, Veneto,
Latium, Etruria) becomes especially significant when these different ethnic groups
acquire a writing system that takes on individual linguistic and ethnic properties: a
series of linguistic and cultural areas become clearly defined. All the Italic languages
(Lepontic, Venetic, Umbrian, Latin) appear to have surrounded the region where
Etruscan was spoken.
An assertion by Renato Peroni is in the writer’s opinion perfectly convincing:
“Local (typological) groups and ethnic components represent without any doubt
incommensurable concepts: the cases of several groups existing within just one
ethnic component and, on the contrary, of several ethnic components coexisting
within a single group must constitute not the exception, but the rule.”4
This hypothesis is perfectly consistent with the more than likely coexistence of
a variety of different ethnic entities within the individualized typological groups in
the Late Bronze Age, as appears clear in the case of the Cetona-Chiusi group that was
intimately connected with the Umbrian environment. The fecundity of this original
perspective is also demonstrated in its ability to reflect the presence of elements of
different origins in the cultural manifestations of Etruria in historical times. A specific
case, but one that is quite significant, is that of the Etruscan pantheon, known to us
in its most complete formulation in the late Hellenistic age. In the religious lexicon of
the Etruscans, it is possible to explain groups of theonyms that betray foreign prove-
nience in their linguistic form. Alongside a prevailing core of divine names clearly of
Etruscan origin, there are many others for which an Umbro-Italic origin has long been
proven, to which are added a tiny component of Greek names. This is surprising when
we recall the enormous acculturating influence that Greece had had over Etruria
beginning at least in the middle of the eighth century. It can be inferred that in the
eighth century there already existed an Etruscan pantheon as an organized system
of names of gods, which had prevented or made it extremely difficult for Greek theo-
nyms to infiltrate. The historical dynamic of this phenomenon is perfectly reflected in
Peroni’s model. Different ethnic and cultural components were gathered to give life
to the new style of territorial organization—the proto-urban center—within which the
various groups naturally bear their own cultural characteristics and naturally their
own gods.
4 Peroni 1989, 555 (translation mine).

To this reconstruction can be wedded the picture painted by ancient historiog-

raphy of the foundation of Rome, which resulted from the concatenation of various
groups of Latins, and a little later was completed with the induction into the civic
body of the Sabines by Titus Tatius, who brought with him his own gods, as recorded
by Varro. Varro thought (being of Sabine heritage) he was still able to name them.
That in Etruria the motivation of this phenomenon went back to the Late Bronze
or the Early Iron Age, seems to be proven by the characteristics of the Proto-Villano-
van of northern inner Etruria; as indicated above, the Cetona-Chiusi group was part
of a much wider cultural division into which Umbria was thoroughly integrated. The
hypothesis formulated on the basis of the pantheon turns out to be nothing more than
hypothesizing that the territorial plexus covered by the Chiusi-Cetona facies would
already have displayed ethnic variation within itself.
To the objection that this sort of picture does not mirror the linguistic unity of this
great cultural division (because in historical times Etruscans spoke Etruscan and not
a number of languages or even different languages, e.g. Umbrian?) we may answer
once more with the example of the tradition of the founding of Rome. Romulus admit-
ted the Sabines of Titus Tatius, but the language of the city did not become Sabine or
even Sabine; it remained Latin.
This might signify that the driving forces of this process of the birth of great proto-
urban aggregations were linguistically Etruscan already at the moment of formation—
that is, at least since the end of the tenth century.
1.3 The historiographic tradition and the language
Data from archaeology, linguistics, and the literary/historical tradition do not suffi-
ciently agree to furnish a really homogeneous view. A good part of the historiographic
tradition, magisterially synthesized by Dionysius of Halicarnassus (1.22ff.), speaks of
the Tyrrhenians, who from various locations supposedly settled in Italy. But for some
authors it was a matter of Pelasgians, a mysterious migrant people in the Aegean sea,
who were felt in some ways to be distinct from—and in other ways identical to—the
Tyrrhenians. For one segment of the tradition (Hellanicus of Lesbos, a historian of the
late fifth century bce), the Pelasgians would have landed in Italy at the mouth of the
Spinete River to penetrate the interior and conquer Umbrian Cortona (a reflex of this
can be seen in the archaeological materials from Frattesina di Fratta Polesine, a great
Late Bronze center at the mouth of the Po). According to a different facet of the tradi-
tion, the Tyrrhenians would have moved to Italy from Near Eastern locations, from
which they would have pursued the Pelasgians or the Umbrians.
The data from the historiographic tradition can, in my opinion, be connected
with the linguistic data.
Probably a non-Indo-European language, Etruscan’s sole traces of familial con-
nections are with the language of an Archaic-period stela from Kaminia on the island

of Lemnos, and with that of the Archaic inscriptions from the Rhaetic area (central-
eastern Alps). The literary sources know of the presence of Tyrrhenians at Lemnos,
documented in the seventh century and expelled by the Athenians of Miltiades at the
end of the sixth. They also know of the Rhaeto-Etruscans of the Alpine basin, who are
supposed to have taken refuge there because of Celtic expansion in Italy. This second
tradition, which goes back to the Paduan Livy (5.33.11), is dubious. The sixth-century
date of the Rhaetic inscriptions excludes from the discussion any reference to the
late fifth-century Gaulish invasion, and probably also that of two centuries earlier,
recorded by Livy himself. In fact, the features of the Rhaetic language, like Lemnic,
show affinity, but not identity. The differences make us think that the three linguistic
groups had undergone centuries of independent evolution.
The connections with Lemnos in the Archaic period have more recently been
interpreted, overturning widespread opinion but validating one of the extant literary
traditions, as the effect of a move of Etruscans from the peninsula toward the east.
This is hardly a legitimate theory from the point of view of epigraphy or linguistics,
and all the more unacceptable on the archaeological level. Not a single element con-
nects the archaeological facies of the two regions; this appears to be a strange fact for
the hypothesis of a displacement of peoples in the fully historical age (seventh–sixth
centuries).
On the other hand, it is only by supposing the greatest antiquity of any ethnolin-
guistic unity among these three entities, the Lemnian in northern Aegean, the Rhaetic
in the Alpine region, and the Etruscan in Etruria proper, that the established total lack
of any element of connection between the archaeological facies of the three environ-
ments in question could be explained.
Perhaps the knowledge that the ancients had of the affinity between Lemnian,
Rhaetic, and Etruscan ultimately created the theory of the identity of those popula-
tions with the Etruscans, giving an origin to the legend of migrations.
Perhaps the entire complex of traditions on the origin of the Etruscans should be
regarded, as has been done more recently, as a corpus of stories constructed between
the late sixth and the fifth centuries, with the purpose of ethno-political glorification
of various actors. There remains the problematic information contained in the Egyp-
tian historical inscriptions of the time of Ramses III, which mention an ethnic group
called Trs-w, in which there is a tendency to recognize the same linguistic stem as in
the Greek name Tyrsenoi, but whose interpretation is subject to debate.
These are very exiguous elements with elusive details, but they might give sub-
stance to the tradition of a very old connection of the Etruscans of Italy with popula-
tions of eastern Aegean.

1.4 Synoecism and colonization: Unity in the Early Iron Age
With the beginning of the Iron Age, a noticeable cultural unity characterizes the
region that would become Etruria proper—between the Tiber in the south, the valley
of the Arno in the north, and the Apennine ridge in the east (Fig. 32.1). It is this cultural
unity, characterized by lifeways, burial customs, styles of ceramic decoration, and
types of arms and ornaments that has been dubbed the name of Villanovan culture.
Until the beginning of the ninth century, other large regions of the peninsula are
closely connected to this large, substantially homogeneous area. This area includes
considerable portions of Emilia south of the Po and centered on Bologna; Romagna,
with its nucleus at Verucchio; the Marches, with the minor center at Fermo (which
flourished in the ninth–eighth centuries, but was soon absorbed into the superven-
ing Picene culture); and nearly all of Campania, with Capua and Pontecagnano as its
major centers in the north and south, respectively (see chapter 33 Pacciarelli).
None of these regions outside Etruria proper, which in historic times spoke and
wrote Etruscan, have significant predecessors in the Late Bronze Age. That is to say,
they do not seem to have had important Proto-Villanovan predecessors; instead they
appear suddenly, with centers of the proto-urban type, at the beginning of the Iron
Age. Different and perhaps unique is the case of northern Campania, where the exist-
ence of a typological “Volturno” group in the Bronze Age might constitute a legitimate
onset for Etruscan Capua. This has traditionally been interpreted as “colonial” issues
from the Villanovan Tyrrhenian region. This theory has been strongly opposed by
Renato Peroni and his school, according to whom in every case it was the result of
the convergence of groups of various ethnic origins and identities, which would have
been assembled within the enterprise of constructing a proto-urban center.5
Peroni’s model, however suggestive, does not explain the archaeological void at
the end of the Bronze Age, which precedes nearly all these establishments, especially
in the Po Plain. Hardly useful is the recent tendency to overvalue a few isolated bits of
evidence from the periphery of this region—such as the presence of some metal hoards
(Poggio Berni, province of Forlì-Cesena)—or of important sites like Frattesina di Fratta
Polesine (province of Rovigo), or at the other end of the district, of necropolises like
Campo Pianelli at Bismantova, on the western Apennines (province of Reggio Emilia).
From the point of view of typological characteristics, these areas cannot all be
looked at in the same way. To be sure, the archaeological facies of Bologna, Veruc-
chio, and Fermo on the one hand and of Pontecagnano on the other, while exhibit-
ing individual features, appear to issue directly from the culture of Etruria proper. In
other cases such as Capua, the situation appears to have been different. In every case
that has been considered, was there really a great phenomenon of Etruscan expan-
sion into the more fertile areas of the peninsula? Some historiographic traditions
5 Peroni 1989; 2001.

1. Faesulae 14. Pitigliano 26. San Giuliano

2. Pisa 15. Le Sparne-Poggio Buco 27. Luni sul Mignone
3. Volterra 16. Talamonaccio 28. San Giovenale
4. Arezzo 17. Marsiliana d’Albegna 29. La Ferriera
5. Cortona 18. Gran Carro 30. Narce
6. Perugia 19. Bisenzio 31. Capena
7. Chiusi 20. Rogge di Canino 32. Trevignano
8. Accesa 21. Vulci 33. Monte S. Angelo
9. Populonia 22. Pescia Romana 34. Tolfaccia
10. Vetulonia 23. Falerii Veteres 35. Castellina del Marangone
11. Roselle 24. Tarquinia 36. Monte Santo-Sasso
12. Orvieto 25. Cerracchio, Chiusa Cima 37. Caere
13. Saturnia and Barbarano Romano 38. Veii
Fig. 32.1: Etruria, 10th cent.–730 BCE (Map by O. Cerasuolo)

elaborated in Etruria, which have survived in extremely fragmentary but still partly
interpretable form, can be understood in this way. In particular, the tradition appears
important concerning the great north-Apennine expedition that was supposedly led
by Tarchon. The name of Tarchon, brother or son of Tyrrhenus, would carry the event
back to the origins of the history of the Etruscan ethnic group. Tarchon, according to
the testimony of Aulus Caecina, led the army beyond the Apennines, conquering the
region of the Po and founding twelve cities, in accordance with a legitimate colonial
model.6
No matter how the events of Etruria’s earliest history that we have passed in
review ought to be understood in detail, what appears factual is the powerful internal
cohesion and the extraordinary ability of Etruscan society to expand at the end of the
Bronze and beginning of the Iron Age. This is manifested in the two epochal phenom-
ena of synoechism internally and colonization externally, understanding the latter
in the way it was treated above: at least in the south, as the movement not of large
numbers of people, but of nuclei of aggregation of local peoples.
In the north, on the other hand, we can more confidently imagine a real coloniz-
ing movement, which might have made use of those western trans-Apennine routes
that already earlier, in the Late and End Bronze Age, had, by a reverse movement,
carried into northern Tuscany strong echoes of the pile-dwelling civilization of north-
ern Italy.
1.5 Projection toward the exterior
The phenomenon seen in the longue durée is that which led to the creation of strong
territorial nuclei, the future city-states, with a center that dominated over expansion
and vast semi-depopulated territory that constituted the base of economic exploita-
tion. A corollary of this phenomenon of expansion is the strong commercial opening
with the exterior. This explains the connections with the Hallstatt culture to the north;
with the Oenotrian culture, and the area of the pit grave culture to the south; with Sar-
dinia, both with the native populations and with the first Phoenician colonies to the
west; and with the Greeks who were beginning to frequent the southern Tyrrhenian
sea.
The Greek presence was to become more significant beginning in the eighth
century, and certainly would not have been particularly welcomed by the Villano-
van centers, especially in view of its frankly permanent character. Sometimes this
situation led to conflicts, as emerges from the—albeit scarce—historiographic sources
dealing with the early colonization of Sicily.7
6 Verrius Flaccus, res Etr., Fr.1 P.

7 Ephorus, in Strabo 6.2.2.

It is by no accident that, with the sole exception of Cumae (and first of Pithe
cusae), Greek colonization was limited to occupying the more southern regions of
the peninsula and Sicily. In the western Mediterranean, a Phoenician presence was
already active at the time, which covered the coasts of North Africa (e.g. Carthage),
southern Spain, the Balearic Islands, and Sardinia with colonies of various sizes.8
2 The age of aristocrats (730–580 BCE):

The Orientalizing period
In the late eighth century, the great proto-urban conglomerates of Etruria were over-
whelmed, like the rest of Italy and Greece, by an impressive flow of goods from the east
(see chapter 34 Botto). These were brought in especially by Phoenician sailors, whose
ability in this sort of activity is even recorded by Homer (Od. 15.415ff.). This was accom-
panied by an always lively Greek commerce (both Corinthian and insular), including
sumptuous ceremonial vessels, such as the gigantic bronze cauldrons on tall supports,
of north Syrian origin, the Phoenicio-Cypriote cups and jugs in precious metals, joined
in the west by many other objects in ivory, glass, and faïence. In the seventh century, the
heavy influx of Oriental and Hellenic imports, transported by Phoenician, Levantine,
and Greek merchants, strongly conditioned the development of the indigenous socie-
ties. This contributed to a very strong acculturation of the elites, which qualified more
and more as a princely aristocracy on the Oriental model, while the proto-urban centers
would be running their course toward the form of cities (Fig. 32.2).
Contact with the foreigner took place in specific ways, which directly involved the
aristocratic elites, as shown by the episode of Demaratus of Corinth, who, according
to tradition, in 656 repaired to Tarquinia profiting from relations with the local aris-
tocracy before becoming involved with commercial relations (Plin. HN 35.152).
The Early Orientalizing period is an explosive moment. The city-states of south-
ern Etruria, which strengthened their economic bases—for instance increasing
control over mineral resources, or rationalizing and intensifying agricultural produc-
tion—accumulated large surpluses which in part they exported. Vulci began to export
wine to southern France already at the end of the seventh century, followed a few
decades later by Caere. Veii competed with Rome for control of the Tiber valley and
8 On Crostoletto di Lamone: Rittatore Vonwiller 1972. On the facies Cetona-Chiusi: Zanini 1994. On
the transition from Bronze to Iron: Negroni Catacchio 1997; Harari and Pearce 2000. On the formation
of the Etruscan pantheon: Maggiani 1997. On the Pelasgians: Briquel 1984. On the Tyrrhenians on
Lemnos: de Simone 1996. On the Rhetics as Etruscan: Rix 1998. On the Etruscans in the Po Plain:
Sassatelli 1994. On Campanian Etruria: d’Agostino 2001; Cerchiai 2010. On the first contacts with the
Greeks: Cristofani 1983; Gras 1985.

1. Sesto Fiorentino 18. Chiusi 35. Falerii Veteres

2. Faesulae 19. Vetulonia 36. Tarquinia
3. Comeana 20. Roselle 37. Grotta Porcina
4. Artimino 21. Elba 38. San Giuliano
5. Pisa 22. Saturnia 39. San Giovenale
6. Castellina in Chianti 23. Grotte di Castro 40. Nepi
7. Cortona 24. Orvieto 41. Narce
8. Volterra 25. Pitigliano 42. Capena
9. Montescudaio 26. Civita di Arlena 43. Trevignano
10. Casale Marittimo 27. Magliano in Toscana 44. Monterano
11. Castelnuovo Berardenga 28. Le Sparne-Poggio Buco 45. Castellina del
12. Arezzo 29. Marsiliana d’Albegna Marangone
13. Murlo 30. Castro 46. Castel Giuliano
14. Perugia 31. Bisenzio 47. Caere
15. Populonia 32. Vulci 48. Ceri
16. Accesa 33. Tuscania 49. Tragliatella
17. Chianciano 34. Acquarossa 50. Veii
Fig. 32.2: Etruria, 730–580 BCE (Map by O. Cerasuolo)

on the routes toward Campania. Vetulonia still paid attention to Sardinia; Populonia
kept firm control of the island of Elba; Pisa initiated an expansionist policy toward
the north that brought it as far as the Magra on the North Tyrrhenian coast, in an
area whose population may already have been Ligurian, while in the hinterland there
opened a route through the valleys of the western Apennines. With the end of the
Orientalizing period and the beginning of the Archaic, the city-states completed their
control over their territory and streamlined trade with foreigners by establishing
flourishing trading posts (emporia) on the coast, founded by Caere (Pyrgi), Tarquinia
(Gravisca), and Vulci (Regisvillae), while farther north Populonia itself acted as its
own port city.9
3 The apogee of Etruscan thalassocracy and

the confrontation with Greece (580–450 BCE)
3.1 The Archaic period
During the sixth century, decisive changes took place. From the late seventh, on these
waters Greek ships coming from eastern Aegean sea encroached on Phoenician and
Etruscan ships. The earliest of these sailors were certainly the Phocaeans, to whom the
historiographic tradition attributes a series of real discoveries. They were the first to
open commercial routes in the Adriatic, the first to have passed the Pillars of Hercules to
discover the land of Tartessus, and the first to have colonized southern France, found-
ing Massilia (modern Marseille) at the mouth of the Rhône around 600 bce, and popu-
lating the neighboring coasts with sub-colonies. For some decades, it does not seem as
though the new colonies damaged the Etruscan wine business in Provence in any way.
It seems instead that an initial phase (late seventh and early sixth century) of prevailing
Vulci presence in this market was followed by a massive Caeretan presence (Fig. 32.3).
Possibly as a reaction to this situation, a consequence of reduced projection on
the sea, in the second quarter of the century the expedition of the Vipinas brothers
toward Orvieto and the Tiber valley in inner Etruria took place. The ultimate destina-
tion was Rome, where Mastarna, companion of the Vulci leaders, managed to become
king under the name Servius Tullius after the defeat of their army, as told by an Etrus-
can tradition reported, among others, by Emperor Claudius.
In the middle of the sixth century, the Persian advance toward the Greek cities on
the Anatolian coast provoked a general disquiet with the ensuing dispersion of the
9 On the nature of the Orientalizing period see Principi 2000. On trade: Camporeale 1969.

1. Gonfienti 18. Roselle 34. Falerii Veteres

2. Faesulae 19. Orvieto 35. Tarquinia
3. Artimino 20. Saturnia 36. Grotta Porcina
4. San Casciano 21. Sovana 37. San Giuliano
5. Pisa 22. Grotte di Castro 38. Sutri
6. Volterra 23. Pitigliano 39. Nepi
7. Cortona 24. Civita d’Arlena 40. Graviscae
8. Castelnuovo Berardenga 25. Le Sparne – 41. Narce
9. Arezzo Poggio Buco 42. Trevignano
10. Perugia 26. Doganella 43. Monterano
11. Murlo 27. Castro 44. Capena
12. Populonia 28. Bisenzio 45. Castellina del
13. Accesa 29. Acquarossa Marangone
14. Chianciano 30. Vulci 46. Castel Giuliano
15. Chiusi 31. Tuscania 47. Pyrgi
16. Elba 32. Castel d’Asso and Norchia 48. Caere
17. Vetulonia 33. Regisvillae 49. Veii
Fig. 32.3: Etruria, 580–450 BCE (Map by O. Cerasuolo)

entire population. The situation reached the breaking point. Groups of Phocaeans,
abandoning their homeland, took refuge on the east coast of Corsica. Many settled
at Alalia (Aleria), where about twenty years earlier they had founded a colony from
which they had raided the nearby Etruscans and Carthaginians of Sardinia. The Etrus-
cans and the Carthaginians, having formed an alliance, after an inconclusive naval
battle, retained control of the land, obliging the Phocaeans to abandon the island and
return to southern Italy (Hdt. 1.166).
On the level of international relations, the outcome of the battle of the Sardinian
Sea led to a division of the Mediterranean into spheres of influence. Sardinia remained
the exclusive possession of Carthage, and Corsica of the Etruscans, who established
a colony, which Diodorus Siculus gives as Nikaia (Diod. Sic. 5.13–14), probably to be
identified with Alalia itself.
In external politics, the city-states obviously had the utmost liberty. The alliance
between Caere and the Carthaginians to eliminate the Phocaean bridgehead from
Corsica led to good and stable relations between the two cities, which was familiar to
Aristotle (Pol. 3.5.10–11), and which had a parallel in contemporaneous negotiations
undertaken by the Semitic power with Rome. It is not surprising that at the end of the
sixth century, Thefarie Velianas, the king of Caere, would give concreteness to these
relations by accommodating Astarte, the principal goddess of Carthage in the sanctu-
ary of Pyrgi, setting forth an unspoken identification with the principal goddess of
the sanctuary, Uni.
If a Semitic presence is particularly emphasized in the port of Caere, at Gravisca
the East-Greeks and then the Aeginetans left the most traces of their presence in the
sanctuary near the port (see chapter 35 Cerchiai).
Farther north, on the initiative of the cities of northern Etruria, and perhaps espe-
cially through the activity of Pisa, the colony of Genoa was founded in the land of the
Ligurians, with a fortress commanding a commodious landing site. In inner northern
Etruria, Porsenna, who had become king of Chiusi, probably preferred by the growing
political weight of the demos, followed a policy of territorial expansion, which led
him to annex the nearby territory of Volsinii (Orvieto) (Plin. HN 2.140). Later, taking
advantage of the request for aid by the deposed Tarquinius Superbus, he fell on
Rome, occupied it, and made it a base with the intent of overcoming the hostility of
the Latins to open a highway toward Campania. But, defeated in 504 at Ariccia, he
withdrew to Chiusi.
3.2 The fifth century and the power of Syracuse
The end of the sixth century coincided with a period of heavy conflict between Etrus-
cans and Greeks, especially on the waters north of Sicily, for control of the straits.
The unstoppable advance of the Persian Empire in Asia permanently changed the
geopolitics of the eastern Mediterranean, provoking further movements of population

to the West. One of the points of friction is precisely the area between the Tyrrhenian
and Ionian seas. One long season of conflict opposed the Etruscans to the Greeks who
had occupied Lipari.
Meanwhile, Carthaginian power pressed the Greek cities of Sicily. Ancient histori-
ography, extolling them as episodes of the Hellenic victory over barbarism, paralleled
the defeat of the Persians at Salamis by Athens and the defeat of the Carthaginians at
Himera by the tyrants of Acragas and Syracuse in 480. This last city quickly emerged
as an international power.
In Campania, where in 524 a major expedition of barbarians aided by Etruscans of
the Adriatic directed against Greek Cumae was successfully repelled (Dion.Hal. Ant.
Rom. 7.3.1), at the beginning of the sixth century the situation collapsed. An attempt
by the Etruscans of Campania, supported by the powerful cities of southern Etruria,
to land the definitive blow against the unwelcome presence of Cumae provoked the
intervention of Hieron of Syracuse. In the waters off the Greek city in 474, the Greek
navy achieved an overwhelming victory over the Etruscan fleet, which was to have
immense resonance, being echoed in the poetry of Pindar (Pyth. 1.72ff.) and other
Greek poets.
The decline of Etruscan Campania thus reached its climax. After not much time
it would be completely overrun by the bellicose mountain peoples the Samnites, who
in the late fifth century seized the entire city. The leading role of Syracuse was reborn
in the middle of the century with the occupation of Elba and Corsica, by the strategoi
Phayllos and Apelles in 456–455.10
4 From the conflict with Syracuse to Romanization

(450–250)
If the loss of mastery of the sea heavily damaged the coastal cities of southern Etruria,
the presence of Syracuse in the Tyrrhenian sea seems to have been particularly favora-
ble to the economic take-off of the northern sector, especially Populonia.
The simultaneous collapse of nearby Vetulonia could be the result of simulta-
neous attacks by Populonia and Rusellae, an operation that may have been encour-
aged—or in any case looked kindly on—by the new Greek power (Fig. 32.4).
10 On the wine trade in France Py 1985 remains fundamental. In general on the commercial
routes in the northern Tyrrhenian Sea and the western Mediterranean: Atti Marseille 2006. On the
historiographic, epigraphic and figural tradition concerning the Vipinas brothers: Buranelli 1987. On
the Etruscan–Punic–Phocaean conflict: Bernardini, Spanu and Zucca 2000. On Thefarie Velianas:
Colonna 2007. On Gravisca: Torelli 1977. On Porsenna, most recently: Colonna 2000. On Syracuse and
the Etruscans: Colonna 1981; 1989.

1. Massarosa 18. Todi 35. Vignanello

2. Gonfienti 19. Orvieto 36. Norchia
3. Faesulae 20. Castellonchio 37. Corchiano
4. Artimino 21. Civita di Grotte di Castro 38. San Giuliano
5. Pisa 22. Sovana 39. Falerii
6. Cetamura 23. Saturnia 40. Tarquinia
7. Arezzo 24. Talamone 41. San Giuliano
8. Castiglioncello 25. Doganella 42. Sutri
9. Volterra 26. Montefiascone 43. Nepi
10. Castiglion Fiorentino 27. Statonia 44. Graviscae
11. Cortona 28. Horta 45. Capena
12. Arna 29. Orbetello 46. Monterano
13. Perugia 30. Cosa 47. Castellina del Marangone
14. Populonia 31. Vulci 48. Veii
15. Chiusi 32. Musarna 49. Caere
16. Vetulonia 33. Tuscana 50. Pyrgi
17. Roselle 34. Castel d’Asso
Fig. 32.4: Etruria, 450–250 BCE (Map by L. Pulcinelli)

The turbulence on the Tyrrhenian coast encouraged connections with the cities
of inland Etruria and with the Adriatic, via the Po Plain. A new season of great eco-
nomic success also smiled on the cities of the Po region—first Felsina and the cities
on the sea, especially Spina. Spina now gathers an enormous influx of ceramics and
other imported materials brought by seafarers, perhaps originally Aeginetan and then
Athenian, who as always, were seeking agricultural produce and livestock, perhaps
metals, and probably slaves.
In this period, the intense activity on the Adriatic Sea again met an aggressive
attitude from Etruscan seamen, who were also accused of piracy.
In the fifth century and the beginning of the fourth, the north-south flow in the
Tiber valley favored the arrival of influence and workforce from Magna Graecia. In the
service of the still lively and wealthy ruling classes of inner Etruria, from Falerii, Veii,
Volsinii, Chiusi, and Arretium, artists from Magna Graecia left many marks of their
passing in monuments that are at times of the highest quality.
In 414, Athens attacked Syracuse and obtained assistance from some Etruscan
cities, which intervened with three penteconters (fifty-oared galleys), probably troop
transport ships rather than warships, which in 413 carried out an effective military
operation (Thuc. 7.53.2).
The Gauls, meanwhile, burst onto the Etruscan Po, traversed Etruria, and in 386
assailed Rome with fire and sword, only to withdraw, permanently occupying the Po
Plain and part of the Adriatic coast.
Useful information can be extracted from the aition of the descent of the Gauls
to south of the Apennines. The episode of the Chiusine Arruns—who, to avenge a
private wrong, invited the Gauls to penetrate Etruria—is eloquent. According to the
account, he had captured the interest of the barbarians with the bounty of agricultural
resources of the region: figs, honey, wine (Livy 5.33.1–6). This datum, combined with
the assertion that the Gauls who appeared on the territory of Chiusi had requested a
part of their territory, with the justification that the Chiusines possessed more land
than they were cultivating (Livy 5.36), offers us a lively picture of the countryside of
the north of Etruria and its economy.
4.1 The fourth century
Between the late fifth and fourth centuries, Etruria found itself facing three great
powers. From the north pressed the Celts. From the sea the threat came from Syra-
cuse, because of its policy of encircling the peninsula put into action by the tyrant of
Syracuse. (In 384, the resounding plunder of the most important sanctuary of coastal
Etruria, at Pyrgi, is recorded.) But another protagonist was advancing from the south.
Rome put an end to the age-old confrontation with Veii, conquering it in 396, and
began a long series of conflicts with the other cities of Etruria.

According to a sometimes-doubted claim by Livy, already in 388 there had been

Roman action against Tarquinia, with the defeat of the small centers of Cortuosa and
Contenebra, in response to Etruscan incursions into Roman territory.
In mid-century, the conflict intensified. Livy (7.12.5ff.) and Diodorus (16.31ff.)
recall the Roman–Tarquinian War, which lasted from 358 to 351 and was character-
ized by episodes of extraordinary brutality (e.g. the massacre of prisoners on each
side). This brutality has left traces in the figural tradition, too, in the special fond-
ness for depicting the murder of the Trojan prisoners by Patroclus on so many monu-
ments of the second half of the century (e.g. the François Tomb in Vulci, Sarcophagus
of the Priest from Tarquinia, stamnos from Falerii, etc.). The war, which ended with
the involvement of Caere, concluded with forty-year indutiae. After the Gaul episode,
Caere benefited from a preferential relationship with Rome, which had granted it the
citizenship sine suffragio. The crucial final phase of the conflict between Rome and
Etruria played out between 311 and 264. The beginning was motivated by an attack by
all the Etruscan populi except the Arretines, at Sutrium. In 310, the daring crossing of
the Selva Ciminia by the army of Q. Fabius Maximus Rullianus ended with a success-
ful raid in the Etruscan territory.
Between the end of the Second (304) and the beginning of the Third (298) Samnite
Wars, Rome turned once again to Etruria and Umbria. In 298, there was an expedition
against Volterra, led by L. Cornelius Scipio Barbatus. A little later, in 295, came the
battle of Sentinum: Q. Fabius and P. Decius Mus overcame a coalition of Etruscans,
Samnites, Gauls, and Umbrians; the war took down Chiusi and Perugia as well. Then
an expeditionary force in 294 took down Volsinii and Rusellae, the latter conquered
by L. Postumius Megellus, who was awarded a triumph.
In 283 came the battle of Lake Vadimone against Boii Gauls and Etruscans; the
following year, there were yet more defeats. Finally, a new defeat of the Etruscans is
recorded for 280, when the Fasti triumphales register the triumph of Ti. Coruncanius
de Vulsiniensibus et Vulcentibus. The consequences for Vulci were ruinous. In 273, the
Latin colony of Cosa was founded with mighty city walls to control the coast. In the
same year, a conflict with Caere ended with the defeat of the Etruscan city and the
annexation of half its territory. The city was turned into praefectura.
The conclusion of the conquest of Etruria is marked by the outcome of the revolt
of Volsinii; the consul for the year 264, M. Fulvius Flaccus, received a triumph de
Volsiniensibus.11
11 On the Etruscans alongside Athens against Syracuse: Torelli 1975. On the Po Plain Etruria and
Spina: Sassatelli 1990; Rebecchi 1998. On the fourth century problems between Etruria and Rome still
important are: Sordi 1960; Harris 1971.

5 Toward the end (250–89 bce)
5.1 The time of the foedera
After the wars, foedera must have been established between Rome and the Etruscan
cities, even though the only one attested in the sources is that with Falerii.
One indication of this is provided by the episode of the exile of Cn. Fulvius
Flaccus. He had been praetor in 212, when he was severely defeated by Hannibal in
Apulia, and in 211 he was exiled to Tarquinia (Livy 26.3.12). The ius exilii was con-
tracted only with cities with which there existed foedera (civitates foederatae). But it
is unlikely that this was a foedus aequum. Because most of the foedera were the result
of defeats, it is unreasonable to think that there were not weighty obligations on the
Etruscan cities. Because it is unlikely that the cities that had suffered the confiscation
of territory (which were to become public fields for the Roman populace) would have
had a foedus aequum, Vulci and Tarquinia can be excluded from this group. Later,
colonies were founded by Rome in the territory of Caere, probably as early as 264 at
Castrum Novum, then at Alsium (247) and Fregenae (245); perhaps also Pyrgi was re-
founded early in the Second Punic War (Fig. 32.5).
The period between the First and Second Punic Wars did not represent a very dif-
ficult time for Etruria. If clear signs of decadence can be glimpsed in the craft works of
southern coastal Etruria, northern Etruria seems instead to have enjoyed a period of
prosperity. Perhaps also as a result of the phenomenon of diaspora or of displacement
of peoples from south to north, we witness a considerable demographic increase in
Chiusi, Perugia, and Volterra. Artistic craft works, such as sculpted funerary monu-
ments, urns, and sarcophagi, indicate levels of productivity never achieved previ-
ously in numbers or sometimes in quality.
In the inner southern section of Etruria as well, several minor centers show sig-
nificant well-being in this period; at Norchia and Castel d’Asso there began in the
fourth and continued into the following centuries the imposing series of architectural
facades carved into the rock. Farther north, Sovana, which in the orbit of Vulci in the
late fourth century began the splendid season of its rock-cut necropolises, vigorously
flourished after the fall of the city on the Fiora, a sign of which is the many tombs with
shrines carved into the cliffs that surround the hills of the city.
5.2 Social upheavals
The history of early republican Rome is strongly marked by the sometimes violent
confrontation between the different components of society, between patricians and
plebeians. But after 366, after, that is, the promulgation of the Licinio-Sextiae laws

1. Luna 18. Roselle 35. Castel d’Asso

2. Luca 19. Todi 36. Vignanello
3. Artimino 20. Castellonchio 37. Norchia
4. Faesulae 21. Saturnia 38. Tarquinia
5. Pisa 22. Suana 39. Blera
6. Castiglioncello 23. Volsinii Novi 40. Falerii Novi
7. Volterra 24. Talamone 41. Graviscae
8. Cetamura 25. Heba 42. Sutri
9. Arezzo 26. Montefiascone 43. Nepi
10. Castiglion Fiorentino 27. Ferentium 44. Capena
11. Cortona 28. Statonia 45. Monterano
12. Arna 29. Orbetello 46. Castellina del Marangone
13. Perugia 30. Cosa 47. Pyrgi
14. Populonia 31. Vulci 48. Castrum Novum
15. Chiusi 32. Tuscana 49. Caere
16. Vettona 33. Musarna 50. Alsium
17. Vetulonia 34. Norchia 51. Fregenae
Fig. 32.5: Etruria, 250–90 BCE (Map by L. Pulcinelli)

(lat. Leges Liciniae-Sextiae), which granted access by plebeians to public office, social
tensions became less urgent.
Contrary to the usual view, we can imagine that something similar had taken
place in Etruria. The second half of the fourth century saw an extraordinary prolif-
eration of new gentes, who built family hypogea that were used for many genera-
tions. It was the mark of admission to the civic body and the ruling class of many new
actors. This makes us think of some socially and politically relevant event, like that at
Rome mentioned above. The phenomenon took place in much of Etruria, at Caere as
at Chiusi, at Tarquinia as at Volterra.
But again in 302, Livy (10.3.2) records a seditio of the plebs of Arretium against
the gentile group of the Cilnii, called praepotens. A threatened confrontation was
resolved only by the intervention of the Roman consul M. Valerius Maximus Corvus,
who managed to reconcile the two factions. In this case, the opponents of the Cilnii
were the plebs—that is, the entirety of free men.
In other cases, the contrast also involved the lower classes of the city’s popu-
lation. The case of Volsinii is familiar. The social dynamic at the beginning of the
third century brought a certain timid opening of the aristocracy, the domini, in
opposition to the slaves, the servi, who seem ultimately to have been freed. Nev-
ertheless, these openings provoked a real hold on power by the ex-slaves, with
the consequent estrangement of the city from the old masters or even their reduc-
tion to slavery; these people turned to the Roman state for aid. In 264, Roman
intervention brought the rapid defeat of the revolutionaries and the deportation of
the population to a site farther downstream, on the shore of the Lake of Bolsena.
The new city kept the name of the old one, continuing to call itself Velzna-Volsi-
nii. Later, Livy notes a bellum servile in 196, a real coniuratio servorum which
affected a large part of Etruria, which was immediately stifled by Rome by means
of many executions and restoration of the status quo. The text of the Prophecy of
Vegoia, which foresees the possibility that the slaves would move the boundary
stones, modifying the order of agricultural property, can perhaps be placed in this
equable climate.
The solution of the social conflict with the most disadvantaged classes,
however, would have operated differently in the different sectors of Etruria. The
famous description of Tiberius Gracchus’s trip across Etruria in 135 presents a land-
scape of the countryside of the southern cities dominated by large estates (latifun-
dia), in which no one stirred but slaves, prisoners of war, and barbarians (Plut. Ti.
Gracch. 8).
In contrast, in the cities of the north—Chiusi and Perugia—the onomastics pre-
serves traces of imposing participation in grants of the rights of citizenship to a large
fraction of the population that had been deprived of it, and the granting of citizenship
to servi. This operation is emphasized in the acquisition of a new onomastic formula
that defines the bearer as a citizen with full rights, and must have been accompanied
by an equally important participation in agrarian reform, which anticipated the grant

of plots of land to these freed slaves. This is shown by the distribution of inscriptions,
especially in the territory of Chiusi, where the vast countryside proved in the mid Hel-
lenistic age to be most very densely occupied by small country properties
Other cities preserved various arrangements. Volterra appears to be a special
case, where the territory, though rich in agricultural resources, presents a series of
population centers, in which were gathered many family groups, holders of gentilic
tombs. The tombs have been opened for the most part at the end of the fourth century,
on the basis of which a minor aristocracy can again be inferred.
5.3 The Second Punic War and the Etruscans
Although some sources mention Etruscan seditiones following Hannibal’s invasion

of Italy and his first victories, it is rather unlikely that the phenomenon was very
important. This is shown by the extremely short-lived presence of the Carthaginians
in Etruria and Umbria; a mark of the disappointing outcome of his hopes of receiving
significant aid. Only in 208 did the seditio of the Arretine senators happen, which
provoked the demand for hostages by Rome. And in any case, two Roman legions
were permanently stationed in Etruria, one of them precisely in Arretium, until 200.
For this period, Livy speaks of the Etruscans as socii, probably those already bound to
Rome by foedera, even if the equation is not completely verified. Several indications
exist of their fidelity to Rome: the Perusina Cohors, which in 216 resisted for a long
time at Casilinum (Capua; Livy 23.17.11); and the squadron of 180 Etruscan cavalry-
men, which in 208 fought alongside C. Claudius Marcellus in Apulia (Livy 27.26). The
inscription of Laris Felsnas at Tarquinia (ET Ta 1.107), who had something to do with
Hannibal at Casilinum, should also perhaps be interpreted in this sense. In 205, the
cities of Etruria contributed to Scipio’s expedition (Liv. 28.45.15 ff.).
In any case, a few decades later, the Etruscan territory appears to have been
entirely pacified and reliable, so much so that the Etruscan cities seem to be the
most suitable place to accommodate the thousand hostages from the Achaean league
brought to Italy after the battle of Pidna in 167 (Paus. 7.10.11).
After the conquest, Rome sought to keep Etruria secure with the help of the local
aristocracy At the time of the agrarian laws of Drusus, which were anti-aristocratic,
Etruscans and Umbrians descended on Rome to contest them.
Even though a few Etruscans received Roman citizenship before the beginning of
the first century, it was only with the Lex Iulia of 90 that Etruria also received the new
status of citizenship. The Lex Iulia came to be applied to those who had not taken up
arms or had laid them down early.
The years of the Civil Wars were devastating for Etruria. The participation of many
Etruscan cities in the faction of Marius provoked heavy sanctions from Sulla. The case
of Volterra is perhaps the best known, because it is cited several times by Cicero. After
the siege, the city saw its land confiscated, but never distributed, if in 45 the orator

could still say that Volterra had escaped the hardship of the time of Sulla with the aid
of the gods (Cic. Fam. 13.4.1).
The final dramatic episode involving Etruria and in a way concluding its trou-
bled history is that connected with the drastic season of the struggles between the
factions for achieving supremacy at Rome, specifically that which opposed Octavian
and Marc Antony. In 41, Marc’s brother Lucius Antonius repaired to Perugia and was
entrenched there, well-received by the senate of the city. Forced into open battle, in
40 he was routed by Octavian’s troops, whose vengeance fell on the city. Not only the
senators were put to death, but many citizens were as well, and the city, albeit unin-
tentionally, was destroyed by fire (App., B Civ. 5.49).12
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Marco Pacciarelli
33 The transition from village communities
to protourban societies
Abstract: In Italy, the research devoted to the origins of the protourban centers in recent decades has
clearly evidenced a rapid, profound and very early protourban reorganization began during the tenth
century BCE in Etruria, the Veneto and other areas.
The epicenter of this radical transformation—and also the best-studied area—is the southern
part of Etruria (nowadays northern Latium). In this area, there is evidence of a very rapid change
that happened in the tenth century, at the end of the Final Bronze Age. In the third phase of this
period, more than ninety per cent of the preexisting villages disappeared in a short amount of time,
at the same time as the formation of four very large (125–175 hectares) protourban centers, occupying
plateaus thirty times larger than the average Bronze Age village. In a few generations, these large set-
tlements became the historical Etruscan cities of Veii, Caere, Tarquinia and Vulci. In the interior of
southern Etruria, we see the birth of two other large (80 hectare) settlements at the same time: Volsinii
(Orvieto) and Bisenzio.
Keywords: protourban centers, Late Bronze Age, Early Iron Age
1 Villages and tribes

During the Neolithic era in Europe, the settlement system was based on densely dis-
tributed farms and small villages.1
This system characterized an entire era of European prehistory, lasting from the
sixth millennium until the beginning or—depending on the area—end of the first mil-
lennium BCE. This therefore proved to be a very effective system, which had the capa-
bility to remain in equilibrium over the course of several millennia.
The very long persistence of the village system is tied to its intrinsic rationality
and functionality in the management of the territory, the economy and human rela-
tions.
The communities’ small sizes allowed for an organization mainly based on hori-
zontal relations founded on kinship, marriage, traditional forms of authority, and
maintaining hierarchies at limited levels, like those that brought about the temporary
emergence of “Big Men”2 or of simple Chiefdoms.
On the economic side, the village system favored an efficient use of the territory in
which each community was close to the resources it really needed to exploit and were
really necessary for subsistence.
1 Whittle 1996; Pessina and Tinè 2008.

2 Sahlins 1963; Niola 1981.
562 Marco Pacciarelli
From an archaeological point of view, is not easy to define the political organiza-
tion of these village communities. However, considering their limited size and their
short life span, it is very unlikely that each village was an independent political unit,
and so we can postulate the existence of a tribal communal organization.3 Territo-
rial organizations grouping several village communities, still in existence in Central
Europe during the first century BCE/AD, were denominated “pagi” (a smaller unit) or
“civitates” (a larger unit) by Romans.4
During the Neolithic and the Copper Ages, the tribes probably also regulated
the frequent shifting of villages. During the (especially advanced) Bronze Age or the
Iron Age, when in some regions a more permanent settlement pattern appeared, the
villages became stable and more autonomous entities, with solid ties with the terri-
tory. In these contexts, the supralocal organization probably became something more
similar to a federation, with internal formal rules concerning the right of passage and
commerce, the use of resources, common defense, and economic relations.
We can assume that tribes and federations constituted the framework of stabil-
ity necessary for the economic development during pre- and protohistoric times.5 In
doing so, they acted as a regulating factor, limiting the tendencies of some emerging
communities to establish economic and politico-military hegemony. However, this
stabilizing role probably made the change difficult, preventing the transition to a dif-
ferent and more complex organization.
The dominance of the village settlement system was interrupted only on very few
occasions. In Greece, this happened already during the third millennium BCE, but
especially during the second millennium BCE, with the diffusion of the Mycenaean
palatial civilization.
The palatial organization arrived in Greece as the final act of the expansionary
process of centralized oriental type societies,6 which originated in Mesopotamia and
Egypt. But, after some centuries, the palatial model collapsed in almost all the areas
of secondary expansion, receding to the original areas, to which it was well suited,
and in which was deeply rooted.
After the great collapse of the twelfth century, most of Greece, Crete and the
Aegean rapidly returned to a traditional organization based on small centers and fed-
erations.
The cultural sequences of central Italy (Campania, Latium and Etruria) are
approximately correlated with Greek-Aegean and Central European phases in Late
Bronze and Early Iron Age (Table 1).
3 Fried 1975.
4 See Caes. BGall. especially books 4 and 6; Tac. Germ.
5 Pacciarelli 2009.
6 Liverani 2002.

33 The transition from village communities to protourban societies 563
Table 1: Chronology: Late Bronze and Early Iron Age main chronocultural sequences of Campania,
Latium and Etruria, approximately correlated with Greek-Aegean and Central European phases
(RBA: Recent Bronze Age; FBA: Final Bronze Age; EIA: Early Iron Age; LH: Late Helladic; SM:
Submyceanean; PG: Protogeometric; E-M-LG: Early-Middle-Late Geometric; BzD: Bronzezeit D; Ha:
Hallstatt). Adapted after Pacciarelli 2001.
Greece Absolute Campania Latium Etruria Central

and Chronology Europe
Aegean BCE

1325/1300
LHIIIB Bz D
RBA Subapennine Subapennine Subapennine
1
LHIIIC 1150/1125
Ha A

SM FBA Protovillanovan Protovillanovan Protovillanovan 2
Ha B1
PG ca. 925 Latium I

Osa IIA1
Early Pontecagnano Tarquinia
IA IA
Osa IIA2
EG EIA1 Ha B2
Tarquinia IB1
P.no IB Early Osa IIB1 Veii IB
Late
Tarquinia IB2
MGI P.no IB Late Osa IIB2 Veii IC
ca. 825

Early P.no IIA Veii IIA
MGII IIIA Ha B3
EIA2
Late Veii IIB
P.no IIB

LGI Final IIIB Veii IIC Ha C
ca. 730

2 The first step of the “Urban Revolution”

The first real and definitive historical breakdown of the village organization hap-
pened slightly later in some areas of Greece and Italy. In these areas between the tenth
and the eighth centuries, some very large protourban settlements rose, which in a few
generations became the leading centers of the urban ancient society (in several cases
continuing their urban status until today).
This process in the Greek area is still poorly understood, but it seems to have
developed gradually between the ninth and eighth centuries.
Fig. 33.1: Southern Etruria: abandoned Final Bronze Age (FBA) villages. Hollow circles: FBA villages
abandoned before Early Iron Age (EIA); filled circles: FBA centres survived until EIA (larger circles:
protourban centres, 1: Veii, 2: Caere, 3: Tarquinia, 4: Vulci, 5: Bisenzio, 6: Orvieto).
(after Pacciarelli 2001)

Fig. 33.2a: Southern Etruria, map of the protourban center of Veii: shaded: settlement area;
squares: EIA1 and earlier EIA2 necropoleis (1:50.000). (after Pacciarelli 2001)
In Italy, on the contrary, the research devoted to this topic in the last decades
have clearly evidenced a rapid, profound and very early protourban reorganization,
which began during (or at the end of) the tenth century in Etruria, Veneto and other
areas.
The epicenter of this radical transformation—and also the best-studied area—
is the southern part of Etruria (nowadays northern Latium). In this area there is
evidence of a very rapid change that happened in the tenth century, at the end of
the Final Bronze Age. In the third phase of this period, more than ninety per cent
of the preexisting villages (Fig. 33.1) disappeared in a short time, at the same time
as the formation of four very large (125–175 hectare) protourban centers, occupying

Fig. 33.2b: Southern Etruria, map of the protourban center of Caere. After Pacciarelli 2001: shaded:
settlement area; squares: EIA1 and earlier EIA2 necropoleis (1:50.000). (after Pacciarelli 2001)
plateaus thirty times larger than the average Bronze Age village. In a few genera-
tions, these large settlements became the historical Etruscan cities of Veii, Caere,
Tarquinia and Vulci (Fig. 33.2). In the interior of southern Etruria, we see the birth
of two other large (80 hectare) settlements at the same time: Volsinii (Orvieto) and
Bisenzio.7
7 di Gennaro 1986; Pacciarelli 2001, 2009. For an application of the rank-size rule see Guidi 1985.

Fig. 33.2c: Southern Etruria, map of the protourban center of Tarquinia: shaded: settlement areas;
squares: EIA1 and earlier EIA2 necropoleis (1:50.000). (after Pacciarelli 2001)
This radical restructuring in the central Mediterranean marks the beginning of

the phenomenon called “Urban Revolution” by Vere Gordon Childe.8 In fact, in the
subsequent centuries, the centers of Etruria, together with those of Latium, rapidly
elaborated one of most flourishing versions of the Mediterranean urban society, pre-
paring for the rise of Rome.
Recent research shows that other regions had protourban developments as well.
This is the case, for instance, of Veneto, where very large settlements arose, some-
times at the end of the Final Bronze Age, as at Oppeano, Villamarzana and Monta
gnana, or during the Early Iron Age, as at Padova, Este, Gazzo and other sites.9
8 Childe 1936, 1950.

9 Bianchin Citton, Gambacurta, and Ruta Serafini 1998; De Min et al. 2005; Guidi and Salzani 2008;
Malnati and Gamba 2003; Salzani and Consonni 2005.

Fig. 33.2d: Southern Etruria, map of the protourban center of Vulci: shaded:
settlement area; squares: EIA1 and earlier EIA2 necropoleis (1:50.000). (after Pacciarelli 2001)
The archaeological research concerning the origins of the protourban centers in

Italy has made significant progresses, but there is still a lot to do to understand the
historical causes of this phenomenon.
What are the factors that determined this macroscopic historical change? A
gradual social and economic development? A radical sociopolitic restructuration? An
ethnic process? Or an influence from the eastern Mediterranean?
What we can say is that at this moment, it is difficult to envisage an external
input to the protourban reorganization. A migration of a new people—considered
as a possibility by some past authors—is to be rejected, because of the evident local

cultural continuity between the Late Bronze and the Early Iron Age. A determinant
role of Greek or Phoenician trade is unlikely, because there is no real proof of the
presence of Greeks in the West before the eighth century, and the traces of a Levan-
tine early activity in Central Italy are inconsistent. A technological revolution deter-
mined by iron metallurgy is not likely, either. In the tenth century, real evidence of
ironworking is nearly absent, and in the ninth century, iron is somewhat common
only in Calabria.
The only concrete possibility is that of a local process of cumulative changes, that
at the end of the Bronze Age caused a radical global restructuring of the old village
system, and a shift towards a new protourban organization.
In 1939, Massimo Pallottino wrote “Which necessity […] moved [the Villanovan
communities] to a collective action and to a fully developing culture, in a context
where the precedent way of life seemed to have stagnated for centuries in primitive,
underdeveloped forms?”.10
The progress of the research in the last decades has profoundly modified this
“primitivist” vision of the local Bronze Age societies. Now it is possible to evidence a
process of deep transformation of village and tribal systems during the Italian Bronze
Age.
3 Earlier settlement patterns

It is useful to say some words about the earlier territorial systems that were prevalent
during the Copper Age, and in part during the Early Bronze Age.
This early organizational system had a number of peculiarities:
1. Settlements were of a small size, varying from a few dozen to a maximum of 200
or 300 of inhabitants. This datum—not easy to verify positively due to the lack of
extensive excavations—may be deduced from the extension of inhabited areas,
usually not exceeding one or two hectares.
2. As a rule, villages last only a short time, shown by the general lack of superposi-
tions of several stratigraphic phases. Also, in the best agricultural lands, such
as the plain between Rome and the Alban Hills and that around Vesuvius, the
settlements frequently shifted from one place to another (although some cases of
limited continuity are attested).
3. There is evidence of the prevalent choice of undefended sites, and a frequent
absence of artificial fortifications.
10 Pallottino 1939, 55 (translation mine).

These features indicate a society with a low level of territorial stability of the single
villages, in which the prevalent level of control and sovereignty may only be that of
the tribe or at least of the clan.
It’s certainly not a case that in the fourth and third millennia we see in Europe a
strong investment in ceremonial monumental centers, and/or in common cemeteries
(the latter is especially the case for peninsular Italy). Both of them, often lasting for
centuries in the same place, probably were the real foci of territories peopled by shift-
ing communities.
4 Territorial and socioeconomic processes during

the Bronze Age
While the Early Bronze Age is a transitional phase during which some old traits con-
tinue, alongside with the beginning of new trends, from the Middle Bronze Age a
marked change in territorial and settlement organization appear in several regions
of Italy.
During this period, we see a progressive prevalent choice of naturally defended
settlement sites in many areas, and a frequent adoption of artificial defenses, like
ditches, fences, earthworks and stone walls.
At the same time, and at a growing rate in the Late Bronze Age, there is a trend
towards a selection of settlements,11 which caused the abandonment of many mainly
smaller and less-defended settlements, and the continuity for several centuries of
some larger, more strategically located centers.
Between the end of the Middle and the Late Bronze Ages, there is a further trend
toward growth in the settlement dimensions, very clear in the Po valley, where some
sites reached a relevant size, extending up to fifteen and in one case even twenty
hectares.12
The long-term stabilization of many settlements in the Middle and Late Bronze
Age encouraged investment in land. Clear signs of this process are the irrigation
systems found in the Terramare area in northern Italy,13 and the tree crops developed
in some areas of southern Italy, where from the Late Bronze Age large pithoi at least in
part for olive oil were produced.14
11 Peroni and di Gennaro 1986.

12 Bernabò Brea, Cremaschi, and Cardarelli 1997.
13 Balista 1997.
14 Peroni 1994.

In this clear process of territorial stabilization and competition, the war indubita-
bly had a relevant role. To the Middle Bronze Age are dated the destruction levels of
Roca in Apulia,15 of Gaggio in the Po valley16 and of Lipari (and other islands) at the
end of Milazzese facies.17 The Late Bronze Age is the period of other two destructions
at Lipari (end of Ausonian I and II) and Roca.
The elites that emerged in the Middle and Late Bronze Age are primarily charac-
terized by the possession of chariots, swords, spears, and defensive armor such as
helmets and, later, greaves.
Military activities were oriented not only toward acquiring goods through looting,
but also in some cases toward controlling the exchange flows from strategic settle-
ments, such as the coastal and insular ones.
As already noted by Luigi Bernabò Brea18 this must have been the reason behind
complex military actions like the destruction of the villages of Milazzese facies of
the Aeolian Islands by the Subapenine Culture groups that occupied the acropolis of
Lipari.
The role of trade in the late Bronze Age became increasingly strategic for eco-
nomic development. By the Late Bronze Age, there had been a great increase in the
volume of mining,19 and trade and exchange related to the production of metallic
tools, weapons and ornaments. At the same time, there was also substantial growth
in the production of luxury goods made from amber and glass. This greatly increased
trade with central and northern Europe, and the local manufacture of necklace beads.
As a result of this increase in the volume of trade and manufacturing, in the Late
Bronze Age, large sites materialized specializing in exchange and craft production,
the most famous and relevant of which is obviously Frattesina20 in the Po Plain.
This whole series of socio-economic changes, however, does not result in a
general protourban reorganization until the beginning of the first millennium BCE, a
sign of a deep-rooted resistance to change of protohistoric social structures.
A process of profound transformation developed only during the tenth century,
with some early evidence in Veneto, and a radical and a far greater depth in Etruria.
In Etruria, as almost everywhere in Italy, the organization of the territory during
the Bronze Age was characterized by scattered villages, located on defended hilltops
and small plateaus. The best-known situation is that of southern Etruria,21 where
15 Scarano 2012, with bibliography.

16 Balista et al. 2008.
17 Bernabò Brea and Cavalier 1980, with bibliography.
18 In Bernabò Brea and Cavalier 1980.
19 See for example Marzatico 1997.
20 For a synthesis see Bietti Sestieri 1997; De Santis 2006.
21 di Gennaro 1986; Schiappelli 2008; Barbaro 2010.

there are dozens of villages located mainly on plateaus of between three and ten hec-
tares (only in very few cases up to twenty). The territories, according to the reciprocal
distances and to the size of the Thiessen polygons, were normally between ten and
thirty square kilometers.22
In southern Etruria there was also a certain tendency to form larger settlements,
which sometimes extended their territories as a consequence of the abandonment
of nearby villages.23 These monocentric processes, however, appear quite late and
were also limited, reaching in only one or two cases a settlement size close to twenty
hectares.
5 Origin and development of the protourban

communities in Etruria
A further evolution in southern Etruria took place only after a general crisis of the
system, which in the final decades of the tenth century, led to the abandonment of
ninety percent of the villages inhabited during the Bronze Age (Fig. 33.1).
This process of radical abandonment was likely not without tensions and prob-
lems, considering the fact that these village communities—many of which were several
centuries old—had a deeply rooted relationship with their territories and resources.
This crisis, however, was not followed by a period of vacuum, as happened in the
twelfth century in the southern Po plain, when, after a generalized abandonment of
the Terramare settlements, the region remained depopulated for centuries.24 In the
case of southern Etruria, on the contrary, the abandonment was concomitant to a ter-
ritorial order entirely renewed.
Already in the advanced phase 3 of Final Bronze Age (tenth century), while
the territory was still depopulating, there are traces of the formation of some enor-
mous settlements. The largest were four centers not far from the coast, in the sites
corresponding to the Etruscan cities of Veii, Caere, Tarquinia and Vulci, which were
between 125 and 175 hectares. In the inner areas were Volsinii and Bisenzio, each
nearly 80 hectares.
Although at the beginning they were still large agglomerations of protohistoric-
type huts, the term protourban centers may be appropriate, because in a few genera-
tions these large communities developed into a complex and rich civilization, which
during the Orientalizing period became fully urban.
22 di Gennaro 1982.

23 di Gennaro and Guidi 2009; Pacciarelli 2009.
24 Cardarelli 2009.

In order to understand their genesis, it is important to note that the formation of

the protourban communities may not have happened—except in the different case of
Bisenzio—through a progressive growth of preexisting centers.
The origin of protourban centres was clearly the result of some sort of planning.
Only in those sites, in fact, defended plateaus of that order of magnitude (125–175
hectars) are found, with a number of additional favorable conditions, like the prox-
imity to large concentrations of good arable land and to the sea and/or to a relevant
river. This may be explained by the fact that the sites were chosen because they were
specifically suitable for very large new centers.
This indicates that the reorganization of the territory took place as a consequence
not of a spontaneous and gradual process, but of a specific political project.
In 1969, Renato Peroni stated that “In the whole ‘Villanovan’ area of Etruria,
protourban centers emerged [...] while in the surrounding area [...] the Final Bronze
Age settlements disappeared. It seems as if new forms of political power have arisen,
forcing different tribes and peoples to live together.”25
Of this new political organization, we perceive two different dimensions—one of
single protourban communities, and the other at a macro-regional level.
The earliest internal organization may be defined mainly for Tarquinia, thanks to
the numerous excavations of burials, and the discovery of remains of huts at Monte-
rozzi and other sites.
5.1 Tarquinia
It is clear that Tarquinia has a very complex topographic organization, which was
also connected to a structured social hierarchy. The settlement here developed over
two very large plateaus: Civita (composed by three sectors: Pian di Civita, Pian della
Regina and Cretoncini) and Monterozzi (Fig. 33.3).
Close to Monterozzi, there is the necropolis of Arcatelle, identifiable as the burial
ground of a small hegemonic group, the leaders of the earliest protourban commu-
nity. The only three tombs of phase 1, with bronze apicated helmets and other rich
features such as horse bits came from this site. At Arcatelle was found also the earli-
est tomb with a crested helmet. Also in this tomb were deposited other high status
symbols, like a bronze ritual vessel, a sword, and a fibula wrapped with golden wire.
In female tombs there were also exceptional objects, like an extraordinary bronze
wheeled ritual vessel, and in a later tomb, a metal ash urn, and the earliest golden
fibula with a granulated ornamentation of oriental type.26
25 Peroni 1969, 158 (translation mine).

26 Hencken 1968, figs. 169c–d and 335; Iaia 1999.

Fig. 33.3: Tarquinia: topography of the EIA center. Squares: necropoleis; shaded: settlement areas.
(after Iaia and Pacciarelli 2012)
The exceptional nature of the tombs of Arcatelle, in particular as regards the first
phase, has recently been demonstrated by the nearly complete excavation of the Villa
Bruschi necropolis,27 led by Flavia Trucco, which does not include any tomb of com-
parable high level.
6 The Early Iron Age: new sociopolitical

and cultural configurations
The hypothesis that there was a concentration of political and military power as early
as the beginning of phase 1 of the Iron Age does not appear incongruous, if compared
to the quite uniformitarian range of the majority of Villanovan tombs. On the con-
27 Trucco 2006.

trary, it corroborates the hypothesis of an initial polarity between a central power and
an undifferentiated mass of warriors.
A new balance of powers, also connected to new military configurations, is prob-
ably a widespread phenomenon in Iron Age Italy. In particular, has been suggested
that during the Final Bronze Age, the power passed from the hands of a small elite—
witnessed by funerary complexes at Castellace and Frattesina that contained swords
and other weapons—to a wider social base of warriors armed with spears, and rarely
also daggers.28
The enlargement of the warrior role to the majority of the male population—seen
very clearly at Torre Galli—would probably lead to a widening of political and eco-
nomic rights, possibly including the ownership of land. In more complex situations
such as Tarquinia, this would also accompany the formation of a centralized power,
in direct relation with the generality of the warriors. This initially seems to have hap-
pened without the mediation of clanic structures of the gens type, which later reap-
peared in a more advanced form.
A problem in the visibility of this process in Etruria is tied to the Villanovan cre-
mation ritual, which does not include—except for some very rare exceptions—the
deposition of real weapons. The military reorganization is therefore not as evident as
in other contexts, especially the Calabrian one of Torre Galli. The tendency to enlarge
the role of warrior, however, is otherwise indicated in southern Etruria by the sym-
bolic clay helmets, deposited over the urn in many simple male graves.29
The other aspect of political reorganization, as stated before, may be seen at a
macro-regional level. Beyond the local dynamics, what is really impressive is the con-
comitant and coordinated formation in Etruria of several protourban centers, which
took control of the entire region. The location of these centers (Fig. 33.4) is organized
following a precise strategy, organized in two main series: one controlling the internal
boundaries and river ways, from Veii to Cortona—with Perugia as a an outpost in the
Upper Tiber Valley—and the other close to (or not far from) the Tyrrhenian coast, from
Caere to Volterra.
It has to be stressed that the global restructuring of an entire region, through a
network of large leading centers, is a type of process that is inherent to the emergence
of many ancient states, as evidenced by Colin Renfrew’s Early State Module.30
The driving force of this coherent macroscopic reorganization can only be the
establishment of a comprehensive system of political and military alliances, which
probably also determined further projections (not necessarily colonies) outside
Etruria, such as those of Pontecagnano and Sala Consilina in southern Campania
(see chapter 73 Cinquantaquattro and Pellegrino), Capua in northern Campania (see
28 Pacciarelli 2001; 2006; 2009.

29 Iaia 2005.
30 Renfrew 1975.

Fig. 33.4: Etruria and Latium Vetus, main EIA centers. A: 100–200 ha; B: 50–100 ha; C: 20–50 ha;
D: 1–15 ha. 1: Anzio; 2: Satricum; 3: L’Altare; 4: Ardea; 5: Lavinium; 6: Decima; 7: Ficana; 8: Acqua
Acetosa Laurentina; 9: Rome; 10: Antemnae; 11: La Rustica; 12: Tuscolo; 13: Lanuvio; 14: Velletri;
15: Caprifico; 16: Palestrina; 17: Gabii; 18: Corcolle; 19: Tivoli; 20: Fidene; 21: Crustumerium;
22: Veii; 23: Caere; 24: Tarquinia; 25: Vulci; 26: Vetulonia; 27: Populonia; 28: Volterra;
29: Fiesole; 30: Cortona; 31: Perugia; 32: Chiusi; 33: Orvieto; 34: Bisenzio; 35: Ocriculum;
36: Poggio Sommavilla; 37: Campo del Pozzo; 38: Cures. (after Pacciarelli 2001)

chapter 74 Bellelli), Bologna in Emilia (see chapter 75 Malnati), Verucchio in Romagna

(see chapter 76 von Eles) and Fermo in the Marche region (see chapter 77 Baldelli).
As an integral part of this great political process, the construction of new common
cultural forms must also be considered. I allude to the so-called “Villanovan” sym-
bolic, ritual and stylistic code,31 which has its maximum coherence in Tarquinia,
which in many ways—even in Etruscan legends—appears as the leading center of the
protourban project.
The existence of precise models in Villanovan culture is particularly evident in
the urns of Tarquinian necropolises, characterized by very high standardization in
form and decoration.32 The “canonic” model of urn is adopted in more than ninety
percent of the tombs of the first Villanovan phase. This rigor is quite attenuated
outside Tarquinia, but the main frame of reference appears the same.
The high symbolic meaning of the funerary rituals in the Early Iron Age is also
indicated by the simultaneous development in nearby areas of ritual systems clearly
and consciously opposed to the Villanovan.33 Distinctly different is the system of
Latium Vetus, which developed in Latin centers east of the Tiber, including Rome and
Gabii.
But just as different, and very similar to the Latin, is the ritual code developed at
Bisenzio,34 which appears as a dissident center, consciously excluding itself from Vil-
lanovan symbols, identity, and perhaps organizational framework.35 In this respect,
it is no coincidence that the settlement of Bisenzio was located not on a specifically
chosen plateau, but in a nearly flat area around a preexisting hilltop village, as if it
was a spontaneous alternative form of aggregation. Despite its considerable size—
much larger than Vetulonia for instance—it is significant that Bisenzio never became
part of the Etruscan twelve cities league, the dodecapolis.
7 Conclusion
The new coherent and coordinated political and cultural framework of Villanovan
Etruria is to be perceived as a decisive propulsive factor of economy, as a precondition
for the free flow of goods, people and knowledge. A will to take total control of the
exchange flows is indicated by the location of the protourban centers, chosen for their
defensibility but also for their proximity to the main lines of communication.
31 Bartoloni 1989.
32 Bettelli and Di Pillo 2000; De Angelis 2001.
33 Iaia and Pacciarelli 2012.
34 Delpino 1977.
35 Iaia 1999; Iaia and Pacciarelli 2012.

In this regard, we have to consider that the protourban centers, as large concen-
trations of people located in strategic nodes of exchange, also acted as large markets,
amplifying the economic opportunities.
The great economic potential of these centers, starting in the earliest stages, is
also shown by the massive exploitation of marine resources—in particular salt—by
the centers located close to the Tyrrhenian Sea, indicated by the remarkable prolifera-
tion of industrial sites characterized by huge numbers of jars.36
In fact, the Early Iron Age in Etruria opens a phase of high economic develop-
ment, resulting in a continuous increase in the availability of goods and in the diffu-
sion of a new aristocratic lifestyle,37 as shown by the funerary contexts, a process very
evident at least from the beginning of phase 2 at Veii.
The consolidation of the “Etruria system,” with its external connections, clearly
stimulated a relevant economic growth in several adjacent regions, already during
the Iron Age.
In this process of extraordinary economic growth, Levantine and Greek sailors
were attracted during the eighth century. These new partners, especially after the
founding of the first colonies, contributed to activate a continuous flow of goods,
people and informations across the entire Mediterranean, which gave way to the eco-
nomic takeoff of the Archaic period, and ultimately started the urbanization of the
ancient Mediterranean world.
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Massimo Botto
34 The diffusion of Near Eastern cultures
Abstract: This chapter will analyze the relationship between the Near Eastern and Etrurian civili-
zations from the collapse of the Mycenaean palaces to the Orientalizing period. This discussion
claims that relationships continued between the eastern and western Mediterranean, which were
not interrupted with the dissolution of the Mycenaean civilization and the invasion of the so-called
Sea Peoples, but continued thanks to the initiatives of “merchant-adventurers” whose main meeting
place was on Cyprus. Between the twelfth and tenth centuries BCE, Cyprus played an important role
for traders with the West, who traced the routes that had already been beaten by Mycenaean vessels
and who kept contacts alive with the indigenous Sicilian and Sardinian communities. From the end
of the tenth century, we witness a gradual increase in sea traffic from the city of Tyre, which, with the
collaboration of Cypriot elements, created a dense network of ports in the Aegean and west-central
Mediterranean. The driving force of these initiatives lay in Tyre’s monarchy and its relationships with
the merchants who were active along the Levantine, Cypriot and Aegean coasts. The focus of these
merchants’ interests is seen in the search for and acquisition of raw materials, especially metals.
Already in the ninth century, Tyrian officials and merchants were active in the main mining districts
of the West—from Calabria to Sardinia, and from northern Etruria to Atlantic Andalusia. In the Italian
peninsula, the first finds that attest a Cypriot/Phoenician presence are from Torre Galli, on the Tyr-
rhenian coast of Calabria. At the same time, the ports in southern Sardinia were enlarged and became
the focus of direct routes to the Etruscan-Lazio and Iberian coasts. During their first trading activi-
ties in the western Mediterranean, Phoenician sailors came in contact with Greeks. Phoenician and
Euboean merchants actively collaborated in Cyprus, al-Mina and in the main ports of the Levantine
and Aegean coasts. The collaboration between these two groups also proved successful in the West,
as demonstrated by the evidence from Pithekoussai on Ischia, which was frequented by Phoenician
merchants and artisans. From here and from Sardinia, through a trading network that ended along
the Levantine coast, Phoenicians and Euboeans established relationships with the Latin and Etrus-
can communities. Such contacts intensified between the end of the eighth century and the first half of
the seventh with the transfer of Eastern workers to Italy who satisfied not only the local elites’ tastes,
but also transferred knowledge of goldworking, metallurgy, glass and ivory working. Within a short
time, the Eastern know-how spread from the “princely” dwellings to the higher classes, becoming the
collective heritage of the Mid-Tyrrhenian communities.
Keywords: Orientalizing period, Mediterranean trade, Italian peninsula, Phoenicians, Etruscans
1 Between East and West: the Mediterranean after

the collapse of the Mycenaean civilization
This chapter is intended to affirm the continuity of relationships between the eastern
and western Mediterranean, even after the collapse of the Mycenaean civilization and
the destruction wrought in the Aegean and along the Levantine coast by the so-called
Sea Peoples. In fact, during the twelfth century BCE, contacts continued thanks to
the initiatives of independent merchants, who were not directly incorporated into the
582 Massimo Botto
rigid Palatine system, and whose main meeting center was in Cyprus.1 Compared to
those of the past, the new protagonists are more difficult to identify both from a social
and ethnic point of view. The multifaceted nature of these “Merchant-adventurers”,
who gave birth to a heterogeneous and multiethnic movement, was also reflected in
the types of products that reached the West and which often resist a precise classifica-
tion.2 However, the resourcefulness of these new protagonists meant that the relation-
ships between the two shores of the Mediterranean were not loosened. Some modern
scholars claim that they were instrumental in the arrival of the numerous Eastern
goods that have been defined “pre-colonial” in the central-west Mediterranean.3
As noted, the politico-economic engine of this movement towards the West must
be identified in the Cypriot chiefdoms. It is apparent in the dense network of relation-
ships that existed between the indigenous populations of Sicily4 and Sardinia, and
is archaeologically documented mainly in metallurgy and metal-technology. In Sar-
dinia, the spread of Cypriot bronze artifacts destined for indigenous elites was so per-
vasive that the island became a primary center of diffusion of sumptuary goods and
working techniques originating in the eastern Mediterranean.5 Many of the Cypriot
or Cypriot-inspired products found in central Italy in early first millennium contexts
seem to have come from this island, following the close relationships initiated by the
Nuragic aristocracy with similar continental entities. For some scholars, moreover,
the strong alliance between prominent groups from Villanovan centers and the large
Nuragic complexes of northern Sardinia favored the introduction of Cypriot-Phoeni-
cian trading on the Etrusco-Lazio coast.6
There is currently a lively debate among scholars concerning the nature and
duration of the contacts that spread throughout the central Mediterranean basin from
Cyprus.7 Many specialists demonstrate that such relationships flourished between
the twelfth century and the beginning of the eleventh. The end of the second mil-
lennium represented a fracturous moment in relationships between the eastern and
western Mediterranean, the stable recovery of which would restart only from the mid
1 Åström 1998; Sherratt 1998; Vagnetti 2000, 75–89; South 2002, 67–8.
2 Artzy 1998; Bauer 1998; Sherratt 1998; Gómez Toscano 2009, 52–4; Ruiz-Gálvez Priego 2009, 109.
3 Besides the abovementioned studies cf.: Bernardini 2006; 2008; Mederos Martín 2006; Botto 2008,
124–27; López Castro 2008, 280–88.
4 For the presence of Cypriot metallurgy at Caldare and Thapsos cf. respectively La Rosa 2000, 133–36
and Militello 2004, 312–13. See also Albanese Procelli 2008, 404, 412–13.
5 Lo Schiavo, Macnamara, and Vagnetti 1985; Ferrarese Ceruti, Vagnetti, and Lo Schiavo 1987;
Vagnetti and Lo Schiavo 1989; Lo Schiavo 1995; 2001; 2008.
6 Cf. with different interpretive nuances Strøm 1991; Botto 1995; 2004–2005; 2007; Matthäus 2000;
2001.
7 The terms of the comparison are taken from Karageorghis 2001, 3.

34 The diffusion of Near Eastern cultures 583
ninth century.8 Consequently, a lot of Cypriot and Cypriot-inspired material found in

the West in contexts assignable to the early first millennium could be interpreted as
residual elements of a season of contact firmly framed in the previous millennium.
Such a hypothesis contrasts with the opinion of those who see continuous movement
of Cypriot material towards the West in the second and first millennia.9 Indeed the
violent destructions that signal the end of the Mycenaean power in Greece must have
favored the development of areas that were peripheral to this “empire,” which, as in
the case of Cyprus, saw a consistent flow of migration from the continent.10 Thus, far
from entering a period of recession, at the end of the second millennium, the “copper
island” continued to be the principle center of production of this metal, and at the
same time became the focal point of the transmission of innovative techniques linked
to ironwork.11
This favorable situation resulted in the birth of Cypriot kingdoms that over time
became an essential reference point for Levantine mercantile initiatives towards the
West. In this “fluid scenario,”12 where different ethnic groups competed to keep the
dense networks of relationships with the west-central Mediterranean basin alive,
the Phoenician component took on a major role from the tenth century. From this
moment, moreover, there was a close collaboration between Cypriot elements and
Phoenician merchants, who found their maximum archaeological visibility in the
Aegean, but also later, in the West.
2 Between Tyre and Euboea: trade in the eastern

Mediterranean from the tenth to the eighth
centuries
At the start of the first millennium, eastern Mediterranean traffic accelerated due to a
set of favorable situations that can be summarized in the strong economic dynamism
of the Greek world, especially in its Euboean component and in the sudden politico-
economic growth of the city-state of Tyre.13
8 Besides the studies cited supra at footnote 5, cf. Macnamara 2001, 292; 2002, 151, 165, who speaks of
a period of “tenuous contact” to bring back to around between 1000 and 850.
9 Strøm 1991; Bernardini 1991; Matthäus 1998; 2000; 2001; Mederos Martín 2006; Botto 2011a.
10 Cf. the many contributions in Karageorghis 1994.
11 Sherratt 1994; Kassianidou 2001, 100, 109.
12 Bernardini 2000, 32–33.
13 Liverani 1991; Botto 2005a, 79–81; Aubet 2009, 118–121, 143–8; Bondì 2009.

584 Massimo Botto
From the tenth century, there are indications of direct relationships between Lef-
kandi and Tyre.14 In this phase we witness an influx of precious objects into Greece,
such as gold ornaments, bronze vases, Egyptian style faïence and ivory artifacts from
Cyprus and the various regions of the Near East. The Greek exports into the Phoeni-
cian metropolis mainly relate to ceramics that gradually reached the inland areas of
the Syrian-Palestine region.15 This is a parallel initiative that makes use of the inter-
mediation of Cyprus, the main area of contact between Phoenician and Euboean
elements. The Euboean pottery found at Amathus, in the southwestern sector of the
island, highlights the route followed by the Greek navigators to reach the Phoenician
coast and the thriving port of Tyre (Fig. 34.1).16
Later, the contacts increased and affected various sites on the Levantine coast,
from Tell Sukas to Tabbat el-Hammam, and Ras el-Bassit to al-Mina.17 This last center
can help us better understand the nature and means of the contacts that were devel-
oping in this phase. During the first half of the eighth century, a large emporium was
built at the mouth of the Orontes River through the joint initiative of Greek, Phoeni-
cian and Cypriot merchants. This depended on the Luwian monarchy, which ruled
the state of Unqi-Patina and resided in the capital Kunulua (Tell Tayinat).18 The emer-
gence of al-Mina is therefore the result of stable and reciprocal associations between
Euboean, Cypriot and Levantine peoples, but also the start of a new intercultural
process facilitated by the intensification of direct relationships and the strong eco-
nomic-cultural dynamism of the Syrian kingdoms.
3 From al-Mina to Pithekoussai: the structuring

of international trade in the Mediterranean
The importance of al-Mina in Mediterranean trade can be grasped by enlarging our
study area to the West. In the same years that the emporium was founded at the
mouth of the Orontes, the Euboean cities felt the need to consolidate their presence
in Tyrrhenian area, giving rise to the establishment of Pithekoussa i on the island of
Ischia. From its earliest stages, this center acted as a catalyst for international trade,
encouraging relationships with the communities of Latium vetus and Etruria. Special-
ists are still discussing the possible presence of a nucleus of Levantine merchants and
14 Popham 1994; Coldstream 1998a; 2000; 2008; d’Agostino 2000.

15 Coldstream 2000; Lemos 2001; Kourou 2005, 498–500.
16 Coldstream and Bikai 1988, 43; Coldstream 1989, 91–2.
17 Mazzoni 2001, 299–304.
18 Coldstream 2000, 32; Luke 2003.

artisans at the site.19 Beyond the fact that “Eastern” communities were able to live on
Ischia, there is no doubt that the Euboean settlement was able to attract the interest
of the central Mediterranean colonial Phoenician settlements due to its strategic posi-
tion on the routes that led from the Straits of Messina to the mid-Tyrrhenian coast of
the Italian peninsula and Sardinia.20 At the same time, judging by the archaeological
data, contacts with the diverse realities of the Near East are indisputable.21 In agree-
ment with Bruno d’Agostino,22 it is likely, therefore, that the establishment of Pithek-
oussai immediately preceded colonization. It is the daughter of that happy season of
discoveries by sea, whose strength was found in the collaboration between Greeks,
Levantines and Cypriots and the trading of goods, and its purpose in the sharing of
knowledge. As d’Agostino notes, “Pithekoussai fits into this world of movement as an
organizing element, destined to catalyze the exchanges between the East and West,
at least concerning the Etruscans of Campania and Etruria itself.”23 For this reason,
the settlement played a central role in the formation of an Orientalizing culture on the
Italian peninsula even if the dynamics of this complex phenomenon must be evalu-
ated in the long term and are the result of contacts that started a long time earlier.24
4 The first contact in southern Italy: from Torre Galli

to Pontecagnano
Non-interrupted contacts between the eastern and western Mediterranean intensified
during the ninth century with the opening of the port of Kommos, in south-central
Crete, to Cypriot-Phoenician ships.25 The first relationships between people from the
eastern Mediterranean and Italian communities can be traced to this period. The
indigenous center that has the oldest traces of these visits is Torre Galli near Tropea
(Fig. 80.1). Marco Pacciarelli’s recent re-examination of the material from Paolo Orsi’s
early twentieth-century excavations has demonstrated a Cypriot-Phoenician presence
in the area that Pacciarelli has dated to between the end of the tenth century and the
beginning of the ninth, raising the traditional dating by about fifty years.26
19 The question has recently been taken up by Carafa 2011.

20 Botto 2011c, 168–69.
21 Boardman 1994; Peserico 1996; Coldstream 1998b.
22 Cf. e.g. d’Agostino 2009, 172, 185–87.
23 Cf. d’Agostino 2009, 185.
24 Cf. d’Agostino 2010.
25 Shaw 1989; 2000. See also Bikai 2000 for the Phoenician pottery found in the center.
26 Pacciarelli 1999, 59; 2001, 218–36. For southern Italy, the traditional chronological dating based
on the chronology of imported Greek pottery and on the timing with the colonial foundations (Cumae

586 Massimo Botto
Fig. 34.1: Map of Cyprus and Ancient Near East

Fig. 34.2: Torre Galli: typology of the Phoenician metallic cups (from Sciacca 2010)
Type 1 dia./h < 2.5 Hemispherical or almost Mercuri 2b

perfectly hemispherical basin
Type 2 dia./h < 2.5 Basin tendentially conical, Mercuri 2a

doesn’t qualify as a
hemisphere due to a change
in pitch in the lower part
Type 3 dia./h = 2 Globular basin with max. Mercuri 3

diam. just under the rim
Type 4 dia./h 2.5 – 3.5 Compressed basin Mercuri 1b
Type 5 dia./h > 3.5 Flattened basin Mercuri 1a
Subtypes: a) thickened rim Decorations: α) Inscription

b) separate rim β) Groove under rim
c) small omphalos in centre γ) Row of incised scales
d) small flat base
Imports to Torre Galli offer some food for thought. Many of the artisan categories that
were widespread in the Orientalizing period are documented there, from aegyptiaca
to beads and glass paste pendants and faïence used to adorn rich women’s clothing,27
from ivory to artifacts for ceremonial use, such as bronze cups (Fig. 34.2). It has been
established that the latter were produced in a Levantine or Cypriot environment.28
Furthermore, the exclusive presence of this artifact in female tombs has been con-
nected to rituals of libation where women played an important role.29
The interests of the Greek and Eastern merchants would soon spread throughout
Campania, the southern Italian region that would be the real bridgehead for traffic
with the rich and potent communities at Latium vetus and in Etruria. Unfortunately,
as recently underlined by Bruno d’Agostino,30 the importance of the unpublished
material for such major centers as Cumae, Capua and Pontecagnano risks making a
and Syracuse in particular) is reaffirmed by d’Agostino 2005. For the correlations between the
chronological series of Pontecagnano and Torre Galli cf. d’Agostino and Gastaldi 1988, 110–15.
27 Hölbl 1979, II, 254–55; 2006, 32–4. See also De Salvia 1999, 213–14; 2006a, 14–16.
28 Pacciarelli 1999, tombs 41, 92, 117, 150, 161, 202, 269; Sciacca 2010; Botto 2010, 60–5; 2011c, 157–62.
See also Mercuri 2004, 146–67 for the role of the Euboean component.
29 Pacciarelli 2007, 119–20, 122–23.

588 Massimo Botto
statistical evaluation based on the published material quite unreliable. However, the
importance of such a region for the eastern Mediterranean sailors from the end of the
ninth–beginning of the eighth century clearly emerges from the exhaustive analysis
carried out on pre-Roman aegyptiaca.31 The relationships with Greece and the Near
East started to intensify from 800, following acceleration in the growth of the local
communities. This phenomenon is clearly visible at Pontecagnano, the large Villano-
van settlement in the Picentino plain, where the most significant quantity of Greek
and Greek type ceramics from the whole region has come from.32 The opening up
to an Euboean component and to the Phoenician market fits into an interregional
framework, which was already well-organized during the ninth century, opening to
the Tyrrhenian coast of Calabria and Sicily on one side and Etruria and Sardinia on
the other.33 The organization of the exchanges can be understood by the analysis of
the grave goods, with wealthy parts that demonstrate the emergence of high-ranking
people.
As has been authoritatively argued, Pontecagnano is just one piece in a complex
and articulated picture34 that recent research helps make more understandable. The
investigations carried out at Montevetrano are very interesting, as they demonstrate
the key role of Campania in the connection between the eastern Mediterranean and
the communities of mid-Tyrrhenian Italy.35 Only starting from these assumptions is
it possible to understand why the Euboeans decided to found a comptoir on Ischia
in the second quarter of the eighth century, and a colony at Cumae on the mainland
immediately afterwards.36
5 Towards the Far West: men, routes, goods

From a chronological point of view, the documentation from Torre Galli demonstrates
the contact by Cypriot-Phoenician sailors with the Calabrian coast in a period that
ranges from the end of the tenth century to the middle of the ninth, according to the
different interpretations.37 The oldest materials from the historical center of Huelva
are dated to roughly the same time.38 The material recovered in Calle Méndez Núñez is
31 De Salvia 2006b. See also Melandri 2010; Botto 2011c, 165–69.
32 Kourou 2005.
33 Gastaldi 1994; 2006; 2007.
35 Cerchiai and Nava 2008–2009; Gobbi 2011; Iannelli 20011.
37 Cf. supra footnote 26.
38 González de Canales Cerisola, Serrano Pichardo and Llompart Gómez 2004; 2008. For the
possibility of placing the material from the deposit in a shorter chronological period from that

Fig. 34.3: Main routes from the homeland to the regions targeted by the Phoenician diaspora
in the Mediterranean and Atlantic
of great interest not just for its high chronology, but also for its variety. In fact, a con-
sistent core of local and Phoenician material has been found alongside more limited
amounts of Greek, Cypriot, Sardinian, and “Villanovan” pottery.
For the first vessels that reached the Atlantic Andalusia, we find a situation
that reflects the findings from east-central Mediterranean trade, with collaboration
between Levantine, Greek and Cypriot merchants. Once again, the engine of these ini-
tiatives is the search for new markets and the acquisition of raw materials—especially
metal. Huelva represents the ideal welding point between Atlantic and Mediterranean
trade, due to its safe port and its strategic position as the end of the rich mineral dis-
tricts of Riotinto.39
The discovery of western markets by the ships from the eastern Mediterranean
was facilitated by the collaboration with the local—and in particular Nuragic—sail-
ors.40 Thanks to them, the Phoenicians could reach both the rich markets of Etruscan
Lazio and those of the Atlantic Andalusia. In this regard, two areas of Sardinia were
proposed in previous studies (900–770 BCE): cf. Botto 2004–2005, 21–34; d’Agostino 2009, 177–82,
figs. 10–11 (second half of the ninth–beginning of the eighth century).
39 Gómez Toscano 2009.
40 Botto 2004–2005; 2007, 81–7; 2011a, 33–7. See also Zucca 2005; Delgado Hervás 2008, 365–69; Ruiz-
Gálvez Priego 2009, 109, footnote 33; Milletti 2011.

590 Massimo Botto
Fig. 34.4: Bronze decorated cup from Tomb 7 of the “primo circolo di pietre interrotte”
from the Poggio alla Guardia necropolis, Vetulonia (from Maggiani 1973)
particularly important—those of the Gulf of Cagliari and its surrounding areas,41 and
the Nurra.
The Gulf of Cagliari was the start of two routes to the West that was furrowed by
Eastern ships whose mixed crews most likely benefitted from the expertise acquired
over time from local sailors.42 The first route ran along the western coast of Sardinia
before turning east in the direction of northern Lazio, or climbed along the eastern
coast of Corsica before joining with the second route (Fig. 34.3). The second route was
used by Sardinian and Eastern sailors to reach Spain, via the Balearic Islands, and
northern Etruria (Fig. 34.3).
Focusing on the latter destination, the Nuragic settlement of Sant’Imbenia, north
of Alghero, is of considerable importance. From the end of the ninth century, it was
home to a group of Levantine merchants and artisans.43 Concerning the relationship
with the Italian peninsula, Sant’Imbenia was an important port where the Phoeni-
cian ships could stock up before facing the difficult crossing of the Strait of Bonifacio.
After crossing the strait, the ships had to sail along Corsica’s eastern coast before
heading east towards the Tuscan archipelago. This was the ideal bridgehead with the
41 Botto 2007, 109–15; 2008, 130–31. See also Bartoloni 2008; Bernardini 2008, 173–74, 179–80. For the
discovery of Myceaean material from the Nora promontory, cf. most recently Cucuzza 2009.
42 The two routes, identified by careful scrutiny on the basis of the spread of the archaeological
material in the historical phases are discussed in Botto 2011a.
43 Oggiano 2000; Bernardini 2008, 161–69.

centers of Populonia and Vetulonia, used first by Nuragic then Levantine merchants.44
The Phoenician presence in this area is signaled by the splendid ornamented cup
(Fig. 34.4) from a pit tomb from the necropolis of Poggio alla Guardia (Vetulonia),
dated between 750 and 720.45
6 Interactions and cultural contacts in the mid-

Tyrrhenian area between the formative phase
and the beginning of the Orientalizing period:
the Sardinian guide
The proposed historical framework underlines the plurality of contacts that from the
western Mediterranean at the start of the first millennium involve the mid-Tyrrhenian
area of the Italian peninsula. In such a system of relationships, Sardinia played a key
role by fostering the arrival in central Italy of the artistic-artisan experiences devel-
oped there, and promoting the exportation of western Mediterranean techniques and
products. In this flow of relations, furthermore, the early and exclusive relationships
between the Nuragic and peninsula elites were progressively enriched by new Levan-
tine protagonists.
One class of material that exemplifies this situation is that of the bronze tripod
stand, which was most likely used for burning aromatic substances during public cer-
emonies, whose introduction into the West is closely connected to the thriving season
of Cypriot-Mycenaean trade.46 The development of these artifacts in the Sardinian
environment is certain, and continues well after the end of the second millennium
with completely original results.47 For example, miniaturist creations with strong sym-
bolic and sacred meanings form part of the “aristocratic” circuit of exchanges with
the Etruscan population, as in the example from tomb 10 at the Romagnoli necropolis
at Bologna, where the grave goods are dated to the beginning of the seventh century.48
44 Bartoloni 2002, 251–52.

45 Maggiani 1973; Markoe 1985, 154–56.
46 Besides the studies cited in footnotes 5 and 8, cf. the latest Papasavvas 2004.
47 Bernardini 1991, 22–4; 2008, 174; Papasavvas 2004, 48. See also Mastino, Spanu, and Zucca 2005,
81–2, footnotes 429–30, fig. 1.7, 2–3, with details of two new tripods from a private collection found
in the Nuragic settlement of Solarussa, in the lower Tirso valley. For these materials, however, it is
preferrable to suspend any form of judgement until their exact provenance is ascertained.
48 Minarini 2000.

592 Massimo Botto
Fig. 34.5: Bronze decorated phiale from the S(trada) tomb of the Macchiabate
necropolis, at Francavilla Marittima (from Zancani Montuoro 1970–1971)
The cult-wagons also belong to this category of luxury goods. From the Piediluco-
Contigliano (Terni) hoard,49 generally dated to around 900, a wheel survives.50 The
spread of such artifacts in the Italian Tyrrhenian area must have been much greater
than can now be seen from the meager archaeological evidence. In fact, a complex
work such as the noted bronze wagon from tomb 2 from the Olmo Bello necropolis
at Bisenzio,51 dated to the third quarter of the eighth century (Fig. 10.1), would be
incomprehensible without the comparison with the Cypriot prototypes in vogue in the
Bronze Age, or with their faithful reproductions from the Nuragic period during the
early centuries of the first millennium.
49 Ponzi Bonomi 1970. See also Lo Schiavo, Macnamara, and Vagnetti 1985; Matthäus 2001, 174–45.
50 The attribution is by Vagnetti 1974; 1996, 170.
51 Matthäus 1985, 333–34. On the cult-wagons from the Italian penisula cf. Naso 2002.

Fig. 34.6: Bronze cup with handle with globular appendices from tomb 132,
Castel di Decima (from Bedini, Cordano 1975)
Another type of object that demonstrates the key role that the Nuragic culture played
in their relationships between the eastern Mediterranean and the communities in
mid-Tyrrhenian Italy is that of the cups forged with a single handle with globular
appendices. The finds are concentrated in central Italy, with the exception of the
Francavilla Marittima phiale (Fig. 34.5). It is highly likely that the handle of the cup in
question was originally part of a cup made in central Italy and only added to the Fran-
cavilla phiale after an ancient restoration.52 The remaining finds concern the example
found at Castel di Decima (Fig. 34.6) in a female tomb dated to the first quarter of the
eighth century,53 to which three other finds can be added, also in female tombs, from
Bologna,54 Populonia55 and Veii56 (Fig. 34.7). Adriano Maggiani has recently suggested
52 Botto 2010, 71–3; 2011c, 162–64. See also Pace 2011, 86–9.
53 Bedini and Cordano 1977, 275–81. See also Botto 1995; 2008, 138–41.
54 Tomb 759 from the San Vitale necropolis, dated to the beginning of the ninth century: Pincelli and
Morigi Govi 1975, 454–55, fig. 68. 8, plate. 305.
55 Tomb 10 from the Poggio delle Granate necropolis, dated to the end of the ninth century: Bartoloni
1987, 38–41, figs. 8–11.
56 Tomb 1032 from the Casale del Fosso necropolis dated to the local II B phase, i.e. around the mid
eighth century: latest Drago Troccoli 2009, 347–50, with previous bibiography.

594 Massimo Botto
Fig. 34.7: Bronze cup with handle with globular appendices

from tomb 1032 in the Casale del Fosso necropolis, Veii
(from Drago Troccoli 2009)
placing a handle from the Antiquarium of the Florence Archaeological museum into
the series; this is unprovenanced but hypothetically attributed by the scholar to Vetu-
lonia .57
The debate on the attribution of these artifacts is ongoing. Returning briefly to the
discussion of this typology of cups, Gilda Bartoloni’s observations are fundamental.58
She has discerned a close relationship between the handle with globules from some
metal vessels found in Italy with the globular terminations on some Nuragic bronzes
and some types of Sardinian handles. Later studies59 have highlighted the weak links
with the Levantine and Cypriot artistic/craft productions, and have shown the impos-
sibility of identifying precise reference models, as their manufacture in the West are
probably fruit of numerous and stratified influences, which reached Sardinia from the
eastern Mediterranean in the early centuries of the first millennium.60
57 Maggiani 2002, 411–13.

59 Botto 1995; 2008, 138–41; Maggiani 2002; Nijboer 2006.
60 Botto 2010, 73–4.

Fig. 34.8: Bronze carinated cauldron with pair of double spiral handle
attachments, from Tel Jatt hoard, near Megiddo (from Artzy 2006)
It is therefore likely that the cups in question arrived in Italy thanks to the agency of
Nuragic elements and Phoenician sailors, even if it is impossible to exclude the pos-
sibility that they were copies made in loco by itinerant craftsmen.61 A final considera-
tion concerns the presence of these cups in exclusively female prestigious tombs. If
the appendages of the handle can be interpreted as plant motifs—and can therefore
traced to the annual cycle of nature62—it seems plausible to associate these vases with
fertility and procreation rites connected with the continuation of the lineage within
the groups that were emerging in the Italian Iron Age.
Large bronze recipients can be found within the flow of contacts between Sardinia
and central Italy. According to their typologies these were used for boiling meat, liba-
tions or ritual ablutions. The carinated cauldrons with spiral handle attachments63
are likely to have been manufactured in the Levant, due to the discovery of the Tel Jatt
hoard, near Megiddo, which has an example with such characteristics (Fig. 34.8).64
The Tel Jatt cauldron is very similar to the shape of the bowl and the type of handle
61 Drago Troccoli 2009, 350; Botto 2010, 74.

62 Cf. about this Botto 2008, 139–40.
63 Botto 2010, 84–5.
64 Artzy 2006, 31, 57 (inv. J-48), fig. 2.3, 1. The hoard was created between the end of the eleventh and
the beginning of the tenth centuries, based on the study of the pottery, the many bronzes found date
to the twelfth and eleventh centuries.

596 Massimo Botto
Fig. 34.9: Deep bronze basin with lotus flower handle terminations, from
Santa Anastasia, Sardara (from Matthäus 2001)
attachment from a Nuragic example in Cala Gonone (Dorgali, Nuoro),65 which, by no

accident, is near one of the safest harbors on the east of the island. The relationship
this settlement had with the sea, ready to receive but also to export precious artifacts,
might be confirmed by a similar recipient, probably from the same workshop, from
the S. Francesco hoard in Bologna, where it had been totally crushed and used as
scrap metal.66
Another type of bronze is that of the cauldrons decorated with lotus flower
handles fused at the base on a plate that has the characteristic form of a double lobed
circle. This type67 reached its maximum extent in Cyprus during the Cyprus Geometric
I–II (1050–850), but it is probable that these cauldrons continued to be made in the
CG III (850–750), as the many finds made away from the island show a proliferation of
local schools from much later phases.
The discovery of a basin with lotus flower terminations in the Tel Jatt hoard, in
Galilee,68 allows the production of this type of bronze to be related to Phoenician
craftsman. The data is confirmed by the exceptional discovery in the “meeting hut”
near the Nuragic sacred well temple at Santa Anastasia in Sardara, on Sardinia. A
hoard was found in this building — dated by the context of the excavation to the second
half/end of the eighth century,69—which contained three bronze basins stacked one
within the other. These comprise two recipients with lotus flower terminations, one
with a deep bowl (Fig. 34.9) and the other with a shallower bowl and a situla with a
65 Lo Schiavo, Macnamara and Vagnetti 1985, 33, figs. 13, 8.

66 Lo Schiavo 1990, 258, fig. 31.
67 Matthäus 2001, 154–65; Botto 2010, 75–83.
68 Artzy 2006, 29, 56 (inv. J-46), fig. 2.2,3. For the dating of the bronzes from the hoard cf. supra,
footnote 64.
69 Ugas and Usai 1987, 192.

Fig. 34.10: Shallow bronze basin with lotus

flower handle terminations, from Santa
Anastasia, Sardara (from Matthäus 2001)
“bridge” swing handle and spiral attachments. Concerning the basins, the one with
the shallow basin has “wolf’s tooth” decoration inside (Fig. 34.10), typical of the
Phoenician figurative repertoire.70 For this reason, it is plausible to date the decorated
basin from Sardara to the eighth century and to attribute it to a Phoenician atelier
from the homeland. For the other two bronzes, however, an older chronology cannot
be excluded, as the structure was in use between the ninth and eighth centuries.
Imports of this type from the eastern Mediterranean are also present on the
Italian peninsula. For example, the handle found in the Polledrara di Vulci necropo-
lis and the basin found in chamber tomb 2 in the F tumulus at Satricum,71 which is
similar to the deep basin from Sardara. The tomb, which contains other deposits, is
dated to between the beginning of the seventh century and 620–610 on the basis of
the imported pottery.72 The basin was associated with the most recent burial and is
therefore much later than the floruit of Cypriot productions. Nevertheless, the Lazio
example is surprisingly similar to these last examples and presents technical features
70 Cf. Martelli 1991, 1058–59, fig. 5 c.; Botto 2010, 69–71, footnote 140.
71 Botto 1993a, 16–20.
72 Waarsenburg 1995, 196–205.

598 Massimo Botto
such as the double loop handle that implies a direct knowledge of the prototypes.
For this reason, the basin from Satricum is likely an import, just like the Sardinian
ones.73 The view expressed here seems further confirmed by the examination of the
Orientalizing re-elaborations of the lotus flower handles, present in large numbers on
the Italian peninsula from Campania to northern Etruria, that have particular finishes
and are often very far from the Cypriot prototypes.74
The artifacts under consideration represent only a selection of the numerous
materials that passed from Sardinia to the Italian peninsula in the early centuries of
the first millennium. However, they are illustrative of the forms of contact that took
place in this period, based on the practice of gift exchange and directed mainly to
the transfer of metalworking technologies. It is by no accident that the contacts took
place with the centers of Populonia and Vetulonia, which controlled the rich metallif-
erous districts of northern Etruria. A last consideration concerns the eastern influxes
that we can identity in the series of objects analyzed. These fit perfectly into a Cypriot-
Phoenician cultural matrix which, as can clearly be seen on the basins with lotus
flower terminations, continued to have an important role after the start of coloniza-
tion in the West and the beginning of the Orientalizing period.
7 The reception centers in Etruria: Tarquinia and Veii

Tarquinia played a key role in the opening up of trade with Euboean and Phoeni-
cian sailors. Athyrmata and jewelry in precious metals have been found at Tarquinia,
which demonstrate the contacts with Levantine merchants.75 Moreover, in Tarquinia,
the “Greek”76 way of drinking was introduced early on, even before the arrival of the
Euboean skyphoi, as shown by the presence of craterform vases in funerary deposits
of the mid/late (phase IB–IC: last decades of the ninth century) and late (phase IIA:
780–760) Villanovan period whose distinctive style, with no local antecedents, seems
to be freely marked by Hellenic models.77
Another strategic point for the first contact between Levantine and Euboean ele-
ments and the mid-Tyrrhenian communities is represented by the mouth of the Tiber.
The control of the river was one of the primary objectives of Veii from the end of the
ninth century.78 The mouth of the river had vital importance for Veii, which could
73 Of the same idea is Waarsenburg 1995, 213–14; also Matthäus 2001, 164 seems to endorse this
hypothesis.
74 Camporeale 1969, 49; Strøm 1971, 129; Matthäus 2001, 164–65, 185–86.
75 Botto 2008, 141–43.
76 Delpino 1997, 186–90. See also Bartoloni 2007, 148–49.
77 Delpino 2007, 138.
78 Bartoloni 1991, 37, 43–4.

enter Lazio directly through the river valleys of the Galeria and Cremera—indepen-
dently of Rome—and reach the coast, thus making the connections with Greek and
Eastern merchants easier.79
Between the end of the ninth century and the middle of the eighth, a series of
products from the Nile and Levantine areas arrived at Veii, which confirm the first
contact with Eastern prospectors. These products are Egyptian and Egyptian-style
scarabs and statues in faïence or jewelry and decorative elements for clothes and
headdresses made in glass paste, faïence, amber, quartz and rock crystal.80 Their
spread through the Mediterranean in the early centuries of the first millennium is
mainly due to the activity of Phoenician merchants; it has often been pointed out that
these artifacts are present in important funerary contexts in association with prestige
objects made in the Near East.81
For Veii, such a line of research has produced very interesting results for tomb
817 at Casale del Fosso, the date of which is thought to be at the start of the local
phase IIB, i.e. around the mid eighth century. Among the rich objects, from the grave
of a young woman, came eastern athyrmata and a miniature bronze, Nuragic made,
olla.82 This association between eastern and Nuragic material confirms that the wide
range of Nuragic objects that arrived on the Italian peninsula at the beginning of the
first millennium were the result of understandings reached between Sardinian and
Phoenician sailors.83
Confirming the plurality of contacts maintained by Veii in this phase, in tomb
817 at the Casale del Fosso there is an exceptionally interesting find—a boot shaped
vase—which demonstrates that the family of the Veiian woman was in direct contact
with northern Etruria, a privileged area of contact with the Sardinian communities
attracted by the huge mineral resources of the Colline Metallifere.84 The abovemen-
tioned cup with handles terminating in globules from tomb 1032 at Casale del Fosso
and almost contemporary with burial 817, points us to these guides.85
79 De Santis 1997, 101–18; Zevi 1997, 179, 183; Botto 2011b.
80 Hölbl 1979, I, 12–14, nn. 34, 36, 38; Nijboer 2005, 544.
81 Cf. e.g. Camporeale 2007, 45–7; Botto 2008, 143.
82 Drago Troccoli 2009, 350.
83 Botto 2007, 81–7; 2008, 135–36; 2011b. See also d’Agostino 2006, 202; Gastaldi 2006, 117.
84 On the relationship between Vetulonia and the Nuragic world cf. the latest by Camporeale 2007,
34–42.

600 Massimo Botto
8 The Orientalizing period

Imports from the eastern Mediterranean increased further at the start of the ancient
Orientalizing period (730–675). The driving force of these contacts made by the Greeks
and Levantines has been identified in the diffusion of the symposium model among
Italian elites.86 As we can see, the introduction of practices linked to ceremonial con-
sumption of wine in central Italy had a long gestation period starting in the ninth
century. In this period, there was a complex interweaving of Greek and Eastern con-
tributions that makes it difficult and sometimes impossible to distinguish the original
vectors. From the last decades of the eighth century, the symposium practice reached
its widest diffusion in the Italian peninsula following the consolidation of the indig-
enous aristocracy and their desire for self-celebration. At the same time, there was an
increase in the export of wine from the colonial centers.87 Within a few decades, the
Phoenician wine produced in the West together with sophisticated sets in precious
metals imported from Cyprus and from the various regions of the Near East spread out
through the communities of Latium vetus and Etruria to celebrate the splendor of the
powerful aristocratic families.88
A second factor that must be analyzed concerns the presence of an ever-growing
number of Near Eastern artists in the communities of Italian peninsula, who contrib-
uted to the birth and affirmation of the Orientalizing style.89 At the start, the phe-
nomena mainly concerned goldworking, with the creation of personal ornaments that
have elaborate decorations in granulation and filigree.90 Only with the start of the
seventh century do the discoveries become more consistent and cover a number of
sectors, from statuary to architecture, from metallurgy to the working of ivory and
glass.91 In this variegated panorama, artistic experiences and classes of artifacts from
not only Phoenicia and Cyprus but also different areas of the Near East and Anatolia
mix together. Phoenician merchants and entrepreneurs worked closely with Euboean
and Cypriot sailors. From al-Mina and the ports of the Gulf of Alexandretta, goods
from the neo-Hittite and Aramaic kingdoms arrived on the Italian Peninsula on Greek
and Phoenician ships, expanding the range of artistic influences from the East in the
courts of the Italian aristocracy.
Under the reigns of Tiglath-Pileser III (745–727) and Sargon II (721–705) the city
state of Tyre passed through a phase of economic prosperity due to the policy of
86 For the Greek component cf. d’Agostino 2006, 215–16; 2011, 35–6. For the Levantine one cf. Botto
2000; 2004–2005.
87 For the role of Phoenician colonies in Sardinia cf. Botto 2007, 87–90; 2011b.
88 Botto 1993b.
89 Cf. d’Agostino 1999; Botto 2004b.
90 Cristofani and Martelli 1983, 26–39; Sciacca 2005, 392–93, footnote 765, with previous bibliography.
91 For the greater arts cf. chapter 45 Menichetti, to which can be added van Kampen 2010. For the
minor arts cf. chapter 46 Micozzi.

the Assyrian sovereigns to strengthen the diplomatic and commercial ties with the
royal house of the powerful Phoenician cities.92 The activities became feverish in the
coastal centers of southern Syria, from which they could reach the heart of the empire
more directly. Phoenician and Euboean merchants moved the products towards the
capitals Nimrud and Khorsabad. These included metals that were necessary to fuel
the imperial war machine and the state finances, and exotic luxury goods that made
court life even more lavish and enhanced the endeavors of the Assyrian sovereigns.
At the same time, precious artifacts from the eastern front made in the Syrian-Hittite
and Assyrian capitals converged on the coast.
In this period, the Assyrian Empire rapidly extended westwards taking direct
control of such key areas as the Taurus Mountains and Aman, and gradually incor-
porated the neo-Hittite and Aramaic kingdoms. The strong military pressure exerted
by Sargon II was therefore one of the principal causes of the influx of north Syrian
workers into the Italian peninsula via the Tyrrhenian coast between the end of the
eighth century and the beginning of the seventh. The phenomenon has been mainly
observed in the fields of sculpture and architecture. The activity of northern Syrian
sculptors might explain the emergence of enthroned figures in Etruscan statuary, one
of the finest examples of which was found in the Tomba delle Statue at Ceri (690–670)
(Fig. 35.4).93 Even older examples of this type of sculpture are possibly documented at
Veii,94 and prove the existence of itinerant workshops able to satisfy the needs of the
emerging aristocratic groups within central Italy’s largest settlements. The diaspora
of these Eastern sculptors is clearly visible in the two statues discovered at Casale
Marittimo—a site that dominated communication between Volterra and the sea—
which were probably placed on a burial mound towards 670–650 (Fig. 45.7).95 Fur-
thermore, references to the statuary of the neo-Hittite kingdoms have been identified
in a series of funeral monuments made in Bologna and its territory, probably between
the end of the second and third quarter of the seventh century.96
In architecture, however, the contribution of architects and northern Syrian
craftsmen is especially noticeable in the construction of funerary structures,97 since
the residences of the lords who were placed in the large Orientalizing tumuli are
unknown. The influence on domestic architecture can be assumed on the basis of the
subsequent constructions. The plans of the palaces of Murlo and Acquarossa show
some similarities with the layout of bit-hilani, the rectangular Syrian palace built with
porches.98
92 Botto 1990, 21–62.

93 Cf. Colonna and von Hase 1984.
94 van Kampen 2010, 31–2.
95 Colonna 2000, 57; Maggiani 2008.
96 Colonna 2000, 57–8.
97 Naso 2016.
98 Torelli 2000.

602 Massimo Botto
Fig. 34.11: Bronze “Phoenician-Cypriot” oinochoe

from the “Tripod Tomb”, Cerveteri. Vatican,
Gregorian Etruscan Museum
An Eastern matrix is also recognizable for some artifacts directly inspired by court
ceremony, such as fans, scepters and footstools.99 Focusing on the latter, the oldest
finds from the Tyrrhenian area are from the famous ‘Tomb of the Warrior’ 871 from
the necropolis at Casale del Fosso, at Veii and from tomb 93 of the Laurentina, which
dates to the last quarter of the eighth century. One such find is a bronze footstool with
voluted support, also known as “Ceri type,” as it is the same depicted in the Tomba
delle Statue, and its presence is concentrated across central Italy. The bronze creations
from Veii, Laurentina, Castel di Decima and Trevignano Romano find their equivalent
in the Adriatic area in the splendid wooden creations from Verucchio.100 This writer101
believes that the reference models for these artifacts must be sought in Syria, where
over the course of the ninth century an original elaboration of Egyptian-Phoenician
footstools are added, whose tradition goes back as far as the beginning of the second
millennium.102 It should also be emphasized that in the passage from east to west,
the ideological message connected to this piece of furniture—considered the preroga-
tive of divine beings, kings and princes—remained unchanged. In fact the presence
of the footstool in the Syrian-Anatolian funerary reliefs gave the scene a connotation
99 Martelli 1995, 15, footnote 29.

100 For the list of finds cf. Martelli 1995, 15, footnote 29; Botto 2005b, 58–9.
101 Botto 2005b, 61–3.
102 Gubel 1987, 231–38, type VII-a “Footstools with Voluted Supports.”

Fig. 34.12: Bronze torch-holder, probably from

the Monte Abatone necropolis, Cerveteri. Vatican,
of rank, and a symbolic meaning related to a possible deification or heroization of

the figure of the deceased as an ancestral founder.103 The same symbolic message is
behind the monumental statuary of Ceri and Veii and proves that the Eastern influ-
ence is strong in the funeral ideology and is closely mixed with the Greek one.104
It is therefore likely that there was a similar situation for the Tyrrhenian area of
the Italian peninsula, as shown in the royal necropolis of Salamis. In these “heroic”
graves inspired by Homeric poems, Eastern luxury goods were accumulated to display
the tryphé of the local aristocracies.105 Furthermore, the contacts with Cyprus are evi-
denced not only by drinking services in precious metals (Fig. 34.11),106 or precious
artifacts such as bronze torch-holders (Fig. 34.12)107 used to illuminate or scent the
rooms, which have been found in the rich Orientalizing tombs of Etruria and Latium
vetus, but also by the design of the tumuli. Recently, with reference to the Tumulo
della Regina, in Tarquinia, the use of alabaster plaster for the walls of the halls des-
tined to host pictorial decorations, has suggested the participation of Eastern crafts-
103 Mazzoni 2002, 353.

104 van Kampen 2010, 30.
105 Karageorghis 2000.
106 Strøm 2001; Botto 2004a, 178–85.
107 Martelli 1996; Botto 2010, 92–100.

604 Massimo Botto
Fig. 34.13: Bronze ribbed cup with Phoenician inscription

from tomb 3 of Kfar Veradim (Upper Galilee)
(from Alexandre 2002)
men in the construction of the tomb.108 In this period, Caere attracted the interests
of Greek and Levantine traders more than any other Etruscan city. By focusing on
the Eastern component, the recognition of Phoenician pottery in some tombs there
has suggested the presence of foreign elements,109 which is known to have been fre-
quented not only by commercial agents, who perhaps stayed there temporarily, but
also artisans. Accredited research lines have located workshops at Caere for the pro-
duction of ointment bottles and other small objects in glass paste,110 but it is also
possible that during the seventh century, north Syrian and Cypriot-Phoenician met-
alworking experts also operated there.111 The presence of Phoenician artisans in the
Italian peninsula has been confirmed by the transmission of working techniques con-
nected with the decoration of ivory112 and ostrich eggs. For this last class of material
108 Mandolesi and De Angelis 2011.

109 Rizzo 1991, 1169–81.
110 Martelli 1994.
111 Botto 1993a; 2004b, 33–4.
112 Aubet 1971, 196; Martelli 1991, 1064.

Fig. 34.14: Ceramic tripod bowl from Othoca (Sardinia).

Soprintendenza Archeologia della Sardegna
investigations have led to the recognition of an active workshop at Vulci in the second
half of the seventh century.113
The attendance at Assyrian courts by Phoenician commercial agents was another
reason for the arrival of Mesopotamian artifacts and their imitations on the conti-
nent. This trend can be clearly seen in the study of ribbed bronze cups. In effect, the
careful philological work conducted on the examples found in the Italian peninsula
has allowed us to identify the artifacts directly imported from Assyria and from Urartu
and the work related to the Phoenician workshops that were active in the motherland
(Fig. 34.13).114
The study on the ribbed cups has found significant points of contact with a line
of my own research intended to emphasize the spread of a particular way of drink-
ing wine among the Latin and Etruscan aristocracy that originated in the northern
Syrian area in the first half of the eighth century.115 It is rooted early on in Assyria and
was introduced into the West by Phoenicians116 and is based on the consumption of
wine flavored with spices and resin that were crushed using a ceramic tripod bowl
(Fig. 34.14). At this point the ceremony used sets composed of elements which filtered
and deposited the aromas introduced in the drink. A precious example, produced in
Assyrian workshops, is the jug with an incorporated filter and long spout now in the
British Museum (Fig. 34.15), which came from southern Italy.117 In case not all of the
aromatic particles were filtered out, in Assyria around the mid eighth century, lenticu-
lar ribbed cups began to be used, whose accentuated carinate gathered the sediments
in the drink. Because its use was so specific, linked to the consumption of aromatized
wine, in the East, the ribbed cups in precious metals were the prerogative of the king
and of the royal couple,118 as clearly shown in the famous relief of the “Garden Party”
in the North Palace at Nineveh, where Assurbanipal and his consort are portrayed in
the defining moment of the toast (Fig. 34.16).
113 Martelli 1991, 1069.

114 Sciacca 2005, 407–22.
116 Botto 2000; 2004–2005.
117 Botto 2004a, 176, fig. 7; Sciacca 2005, 407, fig. 349.
118 Sciacca 2005, 427; 2006–2007, 282–83.

606 Massimo Botto
Fig. 34.15: Bronze jug with spout and incorporated strainer in

the British Museum (from Moorey 1980)
Fig. 34.16: Detail of “The Garden Party” from the North Palace at Nineveh

The use of ribbed cups as libation bowls according to the Syrian method of consum-
ing aromatized wine, is clear in Italy from the association of the tripod bowl. This is
exemplified by the grave goods from tomb 15 of Castel di Decima (end of the eighth
century), which also contained a colonial Phoenician wine amphora.119 In the East,
the relation between the tripod bowl and the ribbed, carinated cups in the royal
banquet is confirmed by the abovementioned Nineveh relief.120
9 Conclusions
Through analyzing the relations between the eastern and western Mediterranean,
from the beginning of the first millennium, we can distinguish two privileged lines
of contact. The first and oldest was developed in Cyprus and by the principal coastal
centers of Phoenicia to reach Sardinia mainly through island routes. In this phase, the
capability of the Nuragic community is fully manifested in the way it reworked eastern
contributions in a highly original and innovative way, both concerning the icono-
graphic apparatus and also for some types of artifacts, which are mainly ceremonial
bronzes. Furthermore, thanks to the efficiency of the Sardinian sailors, contact was
made with the Iberian Peninsula and the mid-Tyrrhenian coast of Italy. In this case,
the relations between the Nuragic and Villanovan elites intensified, especially in the
north, which involved the centers of Vetulonia and Populonia.
The second line is firmly established in the course of the eighth century with the
intensification of the Euboean and Levantine presence in Campania. Thanks to the
foundations of the emporia at al-Mina and Pithekoussai, artifacts, men and tech-
nologies from the southern Anatolian and northern Syrian areas quickly reached the
Italian peninsula. However, already in the first half of the eighth century, the presence
of Phoenicians was strengthened in the central Mediterranean with the foundation
of Carthage in Tunisia, and Sulky in southwestern Sardinia. The rapid growth of the
latter must have facilitated the arrival of luxury banquetting products on the mid-
Tyrrhenian shores of the Italian peninsula, which were made in the Phoenician work-
shops of Cyprus and the mother country. At the same time, the early interest of the
colony for its land must have encouraged the cultivation of grapes and the production
of wine. The wine of Sulcis undoubtedly represented a driving force of the colony’s
economy, which reached the communities of Lazio and south Etruria early on.121
The seventh century was undoubtedly the high point of the relations between the
Italian peninsula and the eastern Mediterranean. In this period, thanks to the activity
119 Botto 2004a, 177. See also Bartoloni 2007, 151–53, with previous bibliography.
120 Botto 2000, 67–8.
121 Botto 2011b.

608 Massimo Botto
of itinerant workshops of northern Syrian and Phoenician artisans, the Orientalizing

art reached its apogee. Indeed, it is in the mid-Orientalizing period that there was a
proliferation of Eastern-style artifacts that were imitated and refashioned in loco by
Italian artisans following a successful cooperation with Eastern counterparts.
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studio in memoria di Massimo Pallottino, edited by G. Bartoloni, 179–83. Rome: Università
degli Studi di Roma La Sapienza.
Zucca, R. 2005. “Naves Sardae. La marineria sarda dell’età del Bronzo.” In Mare Sardum. Merci,
mercati e scambi marittimi della Sardegna antica, edited by A. Mastino, P.G. Spanu and
R. Zucca, 127–32. Rome: Carocci.

Luca Cerchiai
35 Urban Civilization
Abstract: This essay outlines the development of urban communities in Etruria from the beginning of
the Orientalizing period, at the end of the eighth century bce. Through archaeological and historical
sources, the formation of urban society is examined as a complex phenomenon that involves both
economic and political ideological aspects. The study examines the institutional structures of the
city-state, the dynamics of urban planning, the organization of the agricultural landscape, the system
of trade, and crafts. It concludes with an analysis of the political crisis of urban societies in Etruria,
which favored the conquest by Rome in the fourth–third centuries BCE.
Keywords: city-state; political community; institutional structures; urbanization; production.
Introduction: Origins
In the second half of the eighth century bce, the proto-urban centers underwent a
transformation in their social, political, and economic orders, whose material aspect
is most strikingly manifested in the development of what is known as the Orientaliz-
ing period. This process is rooted in the dynamics of the internal development of the
Villanovan community, which actively became part of the network of maritime traffic
developing throughout the Mediterranean.1 In the local communities there arose con-
centrations of wealth, centralization of control over resources and production that led
to the formation of a permanent, hereditary aristocracy.
The utilization of kinship ties is documented at the epigraphic level through the
appearance of the binomial onomastic formula, already attested at the beginning of
the seventh century: to the individual name (the praenomen), which constitutes the
earliest form of personal identification, was added that of the family name (the gen-
tilicum), which remains invariant and is transmitted by descent. The gentilic derives
from the freezing of a patronymic designation, and therefore, being linked to the
organization of the agnate familia, is patrilinear in nature.
The centrality of the family is confirmed by the adoption of the chamber tomb
type, initially intended for married couples and later for multiple depositions of blood
relatives: this was covered over by a tumulus that could be used for other burials of
the same group, to reaffirm its continuity over time.
1 Riva and Vella 2006; d’Agostino 2010.

618 Luca Cerchiai
1 Gentes and clientes

The picture of a hereditary aristocracy drawn from the material culture corresponds
to the image offered by the historical tradition that makes the fulcrum of Etruscan
society the institution of the gens.
Because the gentilic model is described by fairly late authors (especially Livy and
Dionysius of Halicarnassus), who are referring particularly to the Roman world, it is
doubtful whether it should be applied to Archaic Etruria as well. The comparison is
indispensable for focusing on the coordinates of aristocratic power, as it was recon-
structed by the ancient historians.
The comparison between historical and archaeological sources cannot, however,
be resolved by a mechanical superposition, as they reflect only fragments of a more
complex ancient reality, filtered, moreover, through an ideological lens. Because each
sources constitutes autonomous significative systems, the mutual utilization passes
through the description of the differences.2
The historical sources describe the gens as an extensive social and economic
structure, hinging on kinship, private solidarity relationships, and the clientelae.
This tripartite articulation is provided both by Livy and by Dionysius of Halicar-
nassus. The former cites the cognati, the sodales, and the clientes; the latter mentions
the syngeneia, the philoi or hetairoi, and, for the clientelae, the pelatai or, less com-
monly, the oiketai.
The terms used are not vague. The concepts of cognati/syngeneia refer to wider
consanguinity in comparison with the familia of the agnates (paternal kin); sodales/
hetairoi/philoi (“companions” and “friends”) reflect a personal link that is cemented
in the military sphere. Emblematic is the so-called Lapis Satricanus, which memo-
rializes a dedication to Mars in the sanctuary of Mater Matuta at Satrico (southern
Latium) by “sodales of Publius Valerius,” perhaps the Publius Valerius Poblicola who
was first consul in Rome after the deposition of the kings (Fig. 35.1).3
The obligation of personal solidarity takes on special importance in funerary
rituals when the group celebrates the memory of the deceased and affirms its own
cohesion.
A significant context is the Tomba delle Iscrizioni Graffite (“Tomb of the Inscrip-
tions”) of Caere (Cerveteri) (third quarter of the sixth century). Inscriptions were
engraved around the doorway to the main chamber on the occasion of the burial of
the deceased Larice Veliinas, probably the father of Thefarie Velianas, who is called
the “king of Caere” on the bilingual tablets from Temple B in Pyrgi (Fig. 35.2).4 The
main inscription commemorates a funeral rite performed by his wife, while the others
2 Smith 2006; d’Agostino 2005.

3 Stibbe 1980.
4 Colonna 2006; 2007.

35 Urban Civilization 619
Fig. 35.1: Lapis Satricanus (photo SAR-Laz)
consist of men’s names associated with members of a small group of friends con-
nected with the deceased, who gathered on the occasion of the funeral.
The sources distinguish the sodales from the clientes, who were bound by a rela-
tionship of individual subordination, which is conveyed by means of a vocabulary
that references the familia: in the Latin sources, the lord is the patronus, endowed
with a “paternal” authority; in the Greek sources, the clients are “those who stay
nearby” (pelatai) or “those of the house” (oiketai).
Their dependency is not connected with slave status. The sources insist on the
possibility of clients owning property and on the relationship of mutual assistance
that they and the lord were bound to offer each other. Their condition is illustrated in
a passage from Dionysius of Halicarnassus (Ant. Rom. 9.5.4–5) that describes the army
of the Etruscan principes marshaled at Veii against the Roman army in 479. The Etrus-
can nobles head contingents formed from dependents called penestai (the “poor”),
the name assigned to Thessalian servi with semi-free status, bound to the land, but
the analogy does not serve to mark slave status; instead, it emphasizes the lack of
freedom of an army that—unlike the Roman army—consisted of noncitizens in the
service of a limited ruling class. Dionysius actually describes the fear of the Romans
facing enemies marked by “the luster of their arms,” able to fight with order and dis-
cipline, with the homonoia that distinguishes an army of hoplites.
Endowed with an intermediate status between liberty and dependence, the
clients represent a resource that widens the range of and develops the capacity for
operation of the gens: they increased its productive ability, primarily in the sphere of
agricultural activity.
The primary source of the gentilic economy lies in the possession of a broad agri-
cultural territory for cultivation and stock-raising, over which, thanks to the mecha-
nisms of hereditary succession, unitary control was imposed to avoid the fragmenta-
tion and consequent weakening of the property.
The availability of an extensive agrarian base promoted the availability of a
surplus to be placed into circulation in crafts production and trade, from which the
centrality assumed by the aristocracy in the management of trade and the acquisition
of prestige goods and advanced technology by attracting specialized manpower.

620
Luca Cerchiai

Fig. 35.2: Pyrgi tablets (after Die Göttin von Pyrgi, Florence 1981, pl. 19).
Wealth and luxury were essential factors in the legitimization of the aristocracy.
The sources make use of the negative concept of tryphe to describe an exclusive “life-
style” that the Etruscan elites share with Mediterranean elites through the ostentation
of prestigious material and cultural display for its own sake.
The circulation of prestige goods is marked by ceremonial modes of exchange still
centralized on the system of gifts, and ratified in dedicatory inscriptions on luxury
items. The inscriptions increase the value of the object by means of the prestige of the
owner, outlining a circuit of privilege that ends with its deposit in a tomb or its offer-
ing in a sanctuary.5
The historical tradition places at the head of the gens a limited apex: the prin
cipes, for Livy; the “powerful” (dynatoi/dynatotatoi) for Dionysius; the same aristo-
cratic segment chooses the king and the representatives of the Etruscan cities within
the Federal League.6
The sources insist on the personal authority of the princeps gentis: the head of
the privileged kinship line, which centralizes control of goods and activities of the
entire group. But this reconstruction does not reflect reality, because it implies the
existence of a rigid hierarchical organization within related families, which it has not
been possible to confirm. Using an effective definition, the gentes are “acephalous”
taking shape as an organization of several families provided with autonomy and their
own internal hierarchy, able to cooperate in resource management, preservation of
property, and defense.7
Every princeps possessed absolute power, based first on native ideological
models, and then on Hellenic and Near Eastern ones. This condition of “egalitarian
regality” was the basis of mediation in the management of power, fostered on the
concrete relationships of strength.
One of the cornerstones of the gentilic ideology consisted of the construction of a
genealogical tradition under the sign of a common ancestor that anchored the family
in history and in its territory. Hence, the centrality assumed by the system of funerary
observance of the death of the princeps, heroized as a founder.
In this process, the reception of Greek myth that permits the ruling group to
appropriate functional models for the elaboration of a “language of power” shared
with the other Mediterranean aristocracies assumes a remarkable importance.8 The
most symptomatic example comprises the repurposing of the figure of Odysseus.
In Hesiod’s Theogony, again dating back to the end of the eighth century, the hero
figures as the father of Agrius and Latinus “who ruled over all the famous Tyrrhenians
5 Maras 2009.
6 On the Federal League of the duodecim populi: Chiusi 2001.
7 Smith 2006, 34.
8 Menichetti 1994; d’Agostino and Cerchiai 1999.

622 Luca Cerchiai
Fig. 35.3: Krater of Aristonothos (after Rasenna. Storia e civiltà degli Etruschi,
edited by G. Pugliese Carratelli, Milan 1986, fig. 48)
(Tyrsenoi)” and were conceived with Circe (lines 1011–16).9 The genealogical inven-
tion established the solidarity of blood between the Greek world, the Tyrrhenian West
and Odysseus, who in the course of his travels crossed the borders of the world and
entered into contact with distant peoples and became the Greek progenitor of the
Etruscans (Fig. 35.3).
Hesiod’s mention of the Tyrsenoi takes on greater significance when we recall
that the ethnonym is already attested very early in Etruscan epigraphy in the form
of the gentilic Tursikina recorded on a gold fibula dating around the middle of the
seventh century.10
Two additional elements take on a new and marked ideological content in the
funerary ritual. First, the representativeness assigned to the classes of children, the
pivot of hereditary succession;11 second, the “invention” of the ancestor cult, which is
connected to the origin of the earliest monumental statuary in Etruria, attested both
9 Malkin 2004, 215–29; Debiasi 2008, 39–62; Bonaudo 2008–9.

10 Fibula from Castelluccio di Pienza: Benelli 2007, 188-90, no. 76.
11 Cuozzo 2003.

Fig. 35.4: Tomb of the Statues at Ceri (after StEtr 52, 1984, 20 and 34)
on the funerary level (Tomb of the Statues at Ceri, Tomb of the Five Chairs at Caere,
necropolis of Casale Marittimo, Tumulus of the Pietrera at Vetulonia) and in palace
architecture (regia of Murlo) (Figs. 35.4, 45.7).
The need to provide a connection with the past is also manifest in the general
sphere of religious practices, in the not uncommon cases where the new sacred areas

624 Luca Cerchiai
Fig. 35.5: Tabula Capuana (after Rasenna. Storia e civiltà degli Etruschi,
edited by G. Pugliese Carratelli, Milan 1986, fig. 252)
of the Orientalizing period were established in locations that had already been used
in the Iron Age for cultic functions.12
The occurence of overlapping strategies underlines how the gentilic dynamic was
an essential factor in the wider consolidation of the political community, although the
fabric of the gentes did not integrate all the components of the population. At a much
more recent chronological horizon, the coexistence of multiple levels of organization
within the political community is documented, for example, in the Tabula Capuana
12 Torelli 1984.

of the first half of the fifth century (Fig. 35.5), where familial and gentilic groups are
associated with the performance of ritual activities.13
2 The formation of the cities

The development of gentilic structures created the conditions for the development of
the cities as a unitary socio-economic formation, in which the concentration of pro-
ductive strengths triggered an elevated capacity for planning.14
At the turn from the eighth to the seventh century, the archaeological evidence
shows a generalized process of urban aggregation and territorial reorganization,
connected to the consolidation of a political authority able to impose wide-ranging
unitary strategies.
A clear example is represented by Pontecagnano in southern Campania, where at
the end of the eighth century the Iron Age necropolises are supplanted by new burial
areas closer to the built-up areas.15 The cemeteries occupy lowland regions retrieved
through large-scale reclamation activities that imply a high level of labor organiza-
tion, involving specialized technical ability and refined methods and manpower.
The planning of new necropolis areas reappears in many centers in Etruria proper.
The best-known example is at Tarquinia, where the urban necropolis is located on the
plateau at Monterozzi, which during the Early Iron Age was occupied by a village. The
new “final destination” demonstrates a severe discontinuity in land management and
the property system imposed by the new settlement strategies.16
At the same time, in the built-up areas there emerge the earliest structures of a
public nature. These set forth a plan for the sacred and political areas that maintain
a significant functional continuity. At Tarquinia, in the sacred area at Pian di Civita,
which was already in use in the proto-historical period, the Edificio Beta was erected
in the first quarter of the seventh century, built of stone using a technique imported
from Oriental workers: ultimately, it was probably connected with an inaugural ritual
consisting of the dedication of a bronze shield, axe, and lituus trumpet.17
The building is the heart of a sacred complex relating to a goddess, which devel-
oped at the time and was, eventually, integrated into the urban fabric of the Archaic
city.
13 Cristofani 1995.
14 Rendeli 1993; Bologna 1988; Manganelli and Pacchiani 2002; Atti Etruria Meridionale 2005; Atti
Chianciano 2008.
15 Pellegrino 1999; Rossi, 2004–5.
16 Linington, Delpino and Pallottino 1978.
17 Bonghi Jovino et al. 2001, 29–35; Chiaramonte Trerè 2008.

626 Luca Cerchiai
Fig. 35.6: The mudbrick house in Roselle (courtesy SAT)
At Roselle, in the area occupied in the Roman period by the Forum, in a neighborhood
of huts a house of mud brick was built within an enclosure with a hearth and a large
loom. The structure, which, as at Tarquinia, was built such that it would withstand
the years, might be a sacred building or the residence of a chief (Fig. 35.6).
Its construction signals the onset of an exceptional continuity of function: at the
end of the seventh century it was replaced by a two-room building that may have
maintained the same function, and in the second half of the sixth century a temple
was built in its immediate vicinity, clearly relating to a public space that in the Roman
period was monumentalized by the Forum plaza.18 The Orientalizing house remained
18 Bartoloni and Bocci Pacini 2002.

in the memory of the community: in the second half of the sixth century the area of
the ancient forecourt received a votive deposit, which has yielded a dedication to the
aiser, the “gods,” perhaps to be identified with the Lares of the city.19
In a similar vein, we see during the same period a move to the regular attendance
of holy areas, that subsequently took on a monumental planning but that already in
this period were intended for collective activities. This phenomenon is documented,
for example, in the sanctuary of the acropolis of Volterra or, in Campanian Etruria,
in the sacred complex of Fondo Patturelli in Capua.20 At the beginning of the sixth
century, a sanctuary dedicated to Apollo was founded at Pontecagnano on an older
area of huts and pits, which had been in use from the end of the eighth century.
Already in its initial phase, the area was organized inside a plaza that constituted
the oldest public space of the proto-urban center; it remained in use with the addi-
tion of the sanctuary, highlighting the power of suggestion exercised by the original
planning.21
An equally significant aspect of the process of political formation consists of the
beginning of permanent occupation of the vast territories that during the Iron Age fell
into the ambit of the proto-urban centers.
The agricultural landscape was built up by means of the development of a
network of “minor” settlements aimed at controlling strategic roads and resources.
The exploitation of the countryside involved the organization of large gentilic proper-
ties, marked by the tumuli distributed for a considerable distance from the city. The
right of burial sanctioned the legitimate possession of land that would become that of
the fathers and ancestors. The phenomenon emerges precociously in southern Etru-
rian centers like Caere and Tarquinia and is subsequently documented to a greater
extent at Veii and Volterra in the second half of the seventh century, and at Chiusi and
Cortona at the turn of the seventh to the sixth.
In the last of these, Tumulus II del Sodo deserves mention. It has a monumen-
tal altar meant for the funeral cult and a sacellum shrine at the top of the mound
(Figs. 71.8–71.9): the tomb of the lord is conceived as a sacred symbol marking the
landscape.22
From the end of the eighth century we see the formation of autonomous centers,
reduced in size but provided with their own territory, which assured control of the
areas farther from the urban centers. Thanks to this network, distant agricultural
fields were acquired, the exploitation of mineral resources was developed more
intensively, the network of long-distance connections was organized, and the control
and protection of the waterways and coastal strips was established. The minor settle-
19 Maras 2009, 368–69.

20 Volterra: Bonamici 2003, 36–43, 521–22; Capua: Minoja 2006.
21 Bailo Modesti, Battista, Cerchiai and Mancusi 2005, 576.
22 Zamarchi Grassi, 1992; 2006.

628 Luca Cerchiai
Fig. 35.7: Tomba Cima near Barbarano (after Naso 1996, fig. 91)
ments depended on aristocratic families who were able to build monumental tumuli
with attached cult areas (Tomba Cima near Barbarano, Grotta Porcina),23 and create
temples or residences similar to regiae (Castellina sul Marangone, Acquarossa, Poggio
Buco), which served as expressions of a local power independent from the gentes of
the main centers (Figs. 35.7–35.8).24 These document the dynamism of the aristocratic
groups ready to exploit the opportunities offered by a territory that was again opened,
giving rise to a relationship between core urban center and minor settlements, which
was not exhausted in a simple subordination.
At the same time there emerged settlement realities linked to social components
that cannot immediately be assigned to the ruling groups.
From this perspective, the necropolis of Tolle in Chiusine territory is of consider-
able interest. It has yielded more than 700 tombs dating to as far back as the first half
of the seventh century. The data presently available document a community that, on
the funerary level, does not express the same levels as the aristocratic peaks, but is
23 Naso 1996, 118–28 (Tomba Cima), 154–64 (Tumulus of Grotta Porcina).

24 Castellina sul Marangone: Prayon 2008; Gran Aymerich 2008; Acquarossa: Wikander and Roos,
1986; Poggio Buco: Bartoloni 1992; 2009.

Fig. 35.8: Terracotta frieze from Poggio Buco (photo SAT)
able to display symbols of prestige like the arms, canopic vases, or the occasional
kyathoi with gift inscriptions that demonstrate their participation in a circuit of privi-
leged relations at least around the middle of the seventh century (Fig. 35.9).25
25 Paolucci 2000; Paolucci and Maggiani 2009.

630 Luca Cerchiai
Fig. 35.9: Inscribed kyathos from the necropolis of Tolle (courtesy SAT)
We must, finally, note the contexts of Casalvecchio of Casale Marittimo, Castelnuovo

Berardenga, and Murlo in northern Etruria. These were palatial residences created in
the second half of the seventh century in an area without urban settlement, and can
be attributed to small local dynasties that were founded as a means of establishing
the possession of land and control of the roads between the coast and the interior.26
As shown especially by the example of Murlo, the palace represents the fulcrum
of economic, political, and ceremonial activities of the group, where agricultural pro-
duction flowed in, craftsmanship developed, and trade was carried out.
These complex responsibilities are documented by a series of kyathoi bearing gift
formulas and ivory plaques that served as tesserae hospitales.27 The older evidence
consists of kyathoi found at Casale Marittimo and Murlo: as in the case of Tolle, vases
of the most refined ware, connected to wine offerings that, in the case of Murlo, had
been given to the lord of the palace by a noble of Caere, to obtain permission for access
and transit and to start trading. The tesserae hospitales found at Murlo are placed at
the beginning of the sixth century and are produced by the palace, which controlled
and guaranteed the management of traffic. On their backsides, they bear the names of
the participants in the contract, and were kept by the interested parties to certify each
26 Casale Marittimo and Val di Cecina: Esposito 2007, Burchianti and Esposito 2009; Castelnuovo
Berardenga and Valle dell’Ombrone: Mangani 1990; Murlo: Nielsen 2006.
27 Maggiani 2006.

other’s identity. The documents still reflect an archaic system of economic relations,
which, at least at the ideological level, continues to be integrated into the framework
of personal relationships woven together by the lord.
3 Ethnicity, institutional forms, and magistracy

The archeological contexts provide evidence of the consolidation of an organization
that involves the entire community and, as a consequence, of a political authority
able to promote operational strategies over the longue durée. What form of govern-
ment does this unitary power concretely represent?
The historical tradition goes back to the chronological horizon of Tarquinius
Priscus and Servius Tullius, between the end of the seventh and the middle of the
sixth centuries. The picture of the Etruscan city is one provided with its own political
situation (politeia) and guided by a king chosen from the ruling class of principes/
dynatotatoi. The power of the king was issued by the aristocracy, and the supreme
representative of the Federal League is defined by Livy (1.8.3) as the communiter
creatus rex, taking the function of an elected magistrate. This reconstruction of the
Etruscan system of government shares many similarities and is perhaps conditioned
by comparisons with the framework of monarchic Rome, but the sources present
the essential data of a political equilibrium, founded on the balance of power of the
gentes that safeguarded their collective interests against the risk of the royal author-
ity’s abuse of power.
The gentilic organization guarantees the stability of the institution, and therefore
the functioning of a system in equilibrium, which allows for the control of resources
and means of production, and assures the privilege of the ruling class. This implies
a system of negotiations based on mutual controls and guarantees, in which the
strength of collective identity is also consolidated, cemented in the participation in
space, ceremony, and communal decisions.
The leading role of the aristocracy in the construction of the political landscape
emerges archaeologically in the planning of monumental quarters like that of the
Piazza d’Armi in Veii or Vigna Parrocchiale in Caere. The former, built around the
middle of the seventh century, began as a real, self-sufficient citadel independent
from the principal flatland of the Etruscan city. Its foundation is built around an Iron
Age pit burial found within the dwelling, guarded within a “house of wood,” to which
has been attributed a function similar to that of a heroon.28 A temple was built at the
end of the seventh century that was decorated with friezes depicting the parade of a
leader on a cart with a procession of hoplites on horses or on foot (Fig. 35.10).
28 Bartoloni 2002–03; 2009, 17–62.

632 Luca Cerchiai
Fig. 35.10: Terracotta frieze from the Piazza d’Armi at Veii (photo SAR-Laz)
The Piazza d’Armi group marks, therefore, the real difference from the rest of the
community, emphasizing a privileged relationship with the god, even physically
approaching his residence. The same logic distinguishes the complex, which may be
royal in character, of Vigna Parrocchiale in Caere which, at the turn from the seventh
to the sixth centuries, was built in the heart of the old city near a sacred precinct
dedicated to Uni (the Greek Hera).29 Still clearer is the case of the regia of Acquarossa,
which dates to the third quarter of the sixth century. The palace is close enough to a
temple structure that all but guarantees the preservation of the ruling family.
Essential evidence of the process of political structuring is represented by the
texts relating to the institutional apparatus and the magistracy. This is a corpus that
is neither broad nor homogeneous, but which agrees in focusing on certain essential
29 Cristofani 2003; Colonna 2004.

evolutionary lines. We must begin with the term rasna, a word that is inseparable
from the name Rasenna, which Dionysius of Halicarnassus (Ant. Rom. 1.30.3) attrib-
utes to the main eponym (hegemon) of the Etruscans “who are called the same as
this.” Rasna represents the ethnonym of the Etruscans, but above all takes on a socio-
institutional significance, evoking the community of free males according to a notion
not dissimilar from that expressed by the Latin populus.30 The term designates the
ethnic group by way of a mechanism of “contrastive identity,” with which the com-
munity claims a full assertion of the self, distinguished from all the others that do
not represent the “people,” who differ in language and territory. It is emblematic that
in Latin the Etruscan Federal League is called the duodecim populi. The definition of
the ethnic group could go back to a much earlier period in the process of formation of
the Etruscans, but the notion of rasna was still functional in the historic period: the
earliest attestation, effectively contemporaneous with the ethnonym reflected in the
gentilic turkisina inscribed on the fibula from Castelluccio di Pienza, appears in an
inscription found in a tomb at Pontecagnano of the mid seventh century (Tomb 3509),
where it occurs in the archaic form rasunie (Fig. 73.7).31
The most important written source for the institutional lexicon of Etruscan is the
Liber Linteus of Zagreb, a liturgical instruction manual connected to the calendar and
to the places of cultic practice that dates to the first half of the second century.32 The
Liber includes a few terms that designate the city and the political community. Among
them, spura designates “the public, urban, and territorial entity,” with a concept
similar but not identical to the earlier notion of rasna and fairly comparable with the
Greek notion of polis.33
In the Archaic period, the occurrence of the personal name spurie is interest-
ing, which could have a meaning similar to that of the Latin Publius/Publicius: from
“public” meaning “what pertains to the entirety of the cives.”
In addition to spura, of note are methlum and cilth. The former coincides with the
concept of urbs, the city in its physical aspect, as opposed to the spura, which also
covers the ager; in the latter, it has been suggested to recognize the acropolis (arx),
but this hypothesis has not achieved unanimous acceptance.
Names of magistracies also appear in the texts: the noticeable differences between
one center and another evidence the particularity of the institutional arrangements.34
The term zilath designates the supreme magistrate, invested with an authority compa-
rable to that of the king and, at the same time, to that of the praetores who, upon the
fall of the monarchy, represented the highest political and military position in Rome.
30 Rix 1984.
31 Pellegrino and Colonna 2002; de Simone 2004.
32 Belfiore 2010.
33 On the Etruscan institutional lexicon: Colonna 2005, 1871–90; Cristofani 1997.
34 Maggiani 2005.

634 Luca Cerchiai
The title appears for the first time on Cippus II from Rubiera near Modena, a
memorial stone inscribed at the end of the seventh century, belonging to a lady called
Kuvei Puleisnai.35 The inscription mentions a person who “was zilath at Misala” (or
at Sala, according to another suggestion), probably a military chief with magistral
authority, perhaps in relation to the main center of Bologna. A key document for
deepening the function of the office and its evolution is the bilingual text in Etruscan
and Phoenician on the gold tablets from Pyrgi, which date to the end of the sixth
century, in which is commemorated the dedication of Temple B by Thefarie Velianas.
In the Phoenician version he is called “king of Caere,” to which in Etruscan corre-
sponds the office called zilac seleita, which takes on a multi-year character: the title
thus defines a supreme power identified in the Phoenician text as royal, whose func-
tion seems to be clarified in the Etruscan version with the adjective seleita and the
repeatable nature of the position. The zilath seleita of Caere is therefore supposed to
be a supreme magistrate identifiable with the praetor maximus of Rome. In Thefarie
Velianas it can be recognized as a tyrannical figure by the nature of the authority that
is exercised, a role that is, nevertheless, sanctioned in the institutional framework of
the political community.
The Archaic documents detail a stage in which the position of zilath has already
assumed the magistral sense, as the authority of the king that shines through in the
sources and, at the same time, like the tyrannical power exercised by Porsenna, who
in the tradition figures as the king of Orvieto and Chiusi.36 The jurisdiction of the
zilath turn out to be much more articulated in the later epigraphic documentation,
which comes especially from Tarquinia, where the title can appear alone, indicating
the highest magistrate, or is associated with terms relating to institutional articula-
tion. From the end of the fifth century, the position of a zilath, which was perhaps
a position for life, qualified with jurisdiction over the rasna, which is to say, it was
placed over the entire people of the city (zilath mechl rasnal = praetor rei publicae).
The annual magistrate, who was connected to the urban community, probably would
have assumed the title zilath spurana, that is, relating to the spura.
It has, moreover, been proposed to identify the supreme representative of the
Federal League “of the twelve peoples” as the zilath cechaneri, who was responsible
“for the superior things.” The title is associated with a figure represented with the
highest magistral insignia on the Tarquinian Tomb “del Convegno,” which dates to
the early third century. (Colour plates 42–47).
35 Amann 2008.
36 Colonna 2000.

4 Urbanization: The “isonomic” city

At the beginning of the sixth century, a decisive transformation of the nature of settle-
ments took place, in which the city-formation dynamics culminate that had begun at
the end of the eighth. Dwellings were urbanized by means of functional planning that
involved, among other things, the definition of public spaces—in particular sacred
spaces—where the community was represented in a political identity that was wider
than that of the gens.
The public sacra were separate from the cults of the gentes and spaces were
reserved for them that marked the landscape of the city and of its territory. This
process united Etruria with the more developed regions of ancient Italy, like Latium
and Rome, Campania and Magna Graecia. Urbanization marked the interaction
between communities with similar economic and social bases, which were founded
on control by the aristocracy. The development of the city brought about an extensive
system of public and private consumption, nourished both by a monumental urban
texture that required continual maintenance, and by the needs of a growing popula-
tion, which was attracted by the opportunity for improved living conditions. There
thus arose an expansion of demand and of the productive dynamics where artisanal
activities and commerce acquire importance. This process favored the formation of
new social forces: an urban aristocracy linked to portable wealth, and a broad subor-
dinate stratum that furnished the labor—both simple manpower and a skilled work-
force.
The achievement of a wider community than that of the gens, however, did not
produce a citizen class of free men, and a limited number of people with full politi-
cal rights continued to contrast with a more extended social body that remained
excluded, while also being included within the renewed mechanisms of production.
This brought about the conditions for social conflict, similar to that between patri-
cians and plebeians in Rome, which culminated in the profound crisis of the fifth
century.37 How is the reformed city manifested archaeologically? In many centers it
is found in the planning of installations based on a regular street grid. Besides the
case already mentioned of the Piazza d’Armi neighborhood in Veii, early examples are
found in Campania, in Capua (Siepone quarter) and in Pompeii, whose construction
was laid out in the first half of the sixth century. The phenomenon spread especially
at the end of that century, through the adoption of grid planning per strigas from the
colonial world of Magna Graecia.38 It was adopted over a broad territorial arc—in the
Po Valley, at Spina, Forcello, and Marzabotto; in central Etruria at Prato-Gonfienti,
on the Tyrrhenian coast at the harbor sites of Pyrgi, Regisvilla, and perhaps Gravisca
and in the industrial center of Doganella in the valley of the Albegna; in Campania,
37 d’Agostino 1998
38 Capua: Sampaolo 2008; Pompeii: Coarelli and Pesando 2011; Pesando 2010.

636 Luca Cerchiai
Fig. 35.11: Orvieto: necropolis of Crocifisso del Tufo (photo A. Naso)
at Fratte and Pontecagnano.39 The new planning was conceived as a founding act and
was sometimes sealed with an inaugural ritual. The clearest example is Marzabotto.
The urban planning has an astronomical orientation, crowned by the acropolis on
which the auguraculum was established. The city received the name kainua, which
means “new city,” on the same principle used in Campania for the Greek Neapo-
lis.40 By regular planning, the urban community achieved an “isonomic” landscape,
expressing the superiority of the collective norm over any particularism. The plan-
ning could be realized through meaningful solutions of continuity in the settlements.
At the beginning of the fifth century the aristocratic quarters of the Piazza d’Armi in
Veii and Vigna Parrocchiale in Caere ceased to exist. At Veii, the area of the Piazza
d’Armi was abandoned; at Caere the Archaic-period complex was razed to the ground
and upon it were erected a Tuscanic temple and a monumental elliptical construc-
tion, perhaps a building for assemblies like Greek bouleuteria or comitium at Rome.41
The functional discontinuity signals a breach of the political order comparable to the
39 Po Valley Etruria: Malnati and Sassatelli 2008, Sassatelli 2010; Prato–Gonfienti: Poggesi, Donati,
Bocci, Millemaci, Pagnini and Pallecchi 2005; Doganella: Rendini 2010; Fratte: Pontrandolfo 2009;
Pontrandolfo and Santoriello 2011; Pontecagnano: Cerchiai 2008.
40 Govi and Sassatelli 2010.
41 Cristofani 2003; Tuscanic temple: Guarino 2010.

expropriation of the property of the Tarquins upon the fall of the monarchy in Rome,
which led to the establishment of the Campus Martius.
The model of an “isonomic” community is also manifested in the funerary realm,
which extols the harmony of the new urban elite. At the beginning of the sixth century
at Caere and Orvieto there developed the standardized type of the “cubic tomb” (It.
tomba a dado) a small rectangular chamber intended for a married couple, built above
the ground and covered by a terrace designed to receive memorial stones. Tombs of
the new type are included in their own funerary blocks, lining long roads that articu-
late the fabric of the necropolis. The best-known example is the Orvieto necropolis of
Crocifisso del Tufo, built with its own structure per strigas. On their entrance doors,
the tombs bear the names of the owners, identified by the binomial formula that by
then marked the status of a free man; the names reflect a composite population that
includes elements of both Italic and Greek origin (Fig. 35.11).
On a regional scale, similar dynamics of inclusion reveal the reorganization of
the onomastic system in which, at the turn of the seventh to the sixth century, new
gentilics appeared based on individual names, relating to elements of more recent
political integration. The traditional gentilic names, formed from patronymic adjec-
tives, are then declined in the genitive, to mark the onomastic patrimony of the more
consolidated aristocracy.42
5 Agrarian landscape, production, commerce

The consolidation of the urban institution can be clearly demonstrated by looking at
the organization of the agrarian landscape, a target in the Archaic period of intensive
exploitation that documents a real process of internal colonization.43 The urbaniza-
tion of a growing population required an increased food supply and sharpened the
need for arable land, which was satisfied by widening control over the countryside
and improving agricultural technique. The availability of arable land was a prime
reason for the flourishing of Orvieto, which was linked to the exploitation of the fertile
valley of the Paglia. According to the sources, the city provided grain for Rome during
the repeated famines that afflicted the City through the fifth century.44
The cities expanded their control at the expense of the settlements that had pre-
viously arisen in their orbit. This involved the destruction of the “minor” centers, as
happened in the case of Acquarossa, probably by Tarquinia; of Poggio Buco, by Vulci;
42 Maggiani 2000.
43 Colonna 2005, 91–106; Della Fina 2008.
44 Colonna 2003.

638 Luca Cerchiai
and of the residences of Casalvecchio and Murlo, whose territories were absorbed by
Volterra and by Chiusi or Roselle.
The Late Archaic organization of the agrarian space documents the existence
of extensive drainage systems and reclamation work, such as tunnels, canals, and
ditches. Such extensive reshaping of the land happened via the network of under-
ground tunnels that reclaimed the Pontine plain and the territories of Veii and Caere,
and via the system of canalization of the wetlands in the hinterland of Adria in the
last decades of the sixth century.45 At Adria, Pontecagnano, and Prato-Gonfienti, the
division of the land is contemporary with the urban planning, to underline the unitary
character of the process of political reorganization.46 The organization of the country-
side favored the development of a specialized culture based on a stable network of
small villages and farms that supported a diffuse and widespread population. At Veii,
a land occupation has come to light based on farms directly dependent on the urban
center. At Caere, the agricultural exploitation is articulated in the form of small neigh-
boring farms, larger complexes that also had residential areas, and more extended
settlements related to the territory and to the coastal strip. The construction of the
agrarian space produced the formation of a class of small landowners or assignees,
whose political status and degree of autonomy or dependency are difficult to specify.
Nonetheless, the ownership of land consolidated an intermediate social stratum,
included in the ancient sources in the category of servi, which became a component
that was inevitably antagonistic within the urban population, as happened with the
plebeians in Rome.
The emergence of an intermediate component, an alternative to the traditional
aristocracy, is also connected with the surge in quality that arose in productive activ-
ity and in the exchange system. The growing needs of the urban community caused
an increase in public and private demand, and therefore an increase in production.
The improvement of the system led to the production of a surplus that fed maritime
commerce, with Etruscan goods the object of extensive export to southern Gaul, Sar-
dinia and Sicily, and eventually Carthage.47
Trade between that mighty African city and Rome and its allies (probably includ-
ing Caere) was regulated beginning in 509 by a treaty quoted by Polybius (3.22–23),
which established the limits of navigation, landing, and trade by any of the contract-
ing parties. The Carthaginians claimed Sardinia and part of Sicily, and the Romans
claimed control of the territory of Latium and, in particular, of the centers on the coast
as far as Circe’s promontory.48 On the Tyrrhenian coast, the trade network relied on
45 Pontine plain: Coarelli 1990; Veii: Kahane, Threipland and Ward-Perkins 1968; Kahane 1977; Potter
1979; Caere: Enei 2001; Zifferero 2005; Adria: Sassatellli 2008; Harari 2008.
46 Pontecagnano: Santoriello and Rossi 2004–05.
47 Rome 1985; Della Fina 2006; Botto 2007.
48 Ampolo 1987.

Fig. 35.12: Dedication by Sostratos from Gravisca

(photo SAR-Laz)
a system of harbors and minor slips that dot the landscape as far as north to Pisa at
the mouth of the Arno. The landings outline a small-scale route along which Greek
vessels and goods traveled, heading for the Phocean city of Marseille.49 On the Adri-
atic coast, the main ports were at Adria and Spina, with the first one frequented early
by the Greeks; they were the ends either of a route that joined Greece to Padanian
Etruria or of a long-distance route to and from central Europe. The urban author-
ity controlled exchange, reserving for this function real emporia near the ports. The
exchanges were located under the protection of sanctuaries within a friendly environ-
ment under divine protection. The context that has provided the most information
is the sanctuary of Gravisca, in which an exceptional series of dedications in Greek
allow for the identification of the merchants’ origin. They initially came from eastern
Greece, and after the Persian conquest of Ionia and Egypt, an Aeginan component
emerged at the end of the sixth century, documented by the dedication to Apollo by
Sostratos, identifiable as a merchant celebrated by Herodotus (4.152) for his wealth
and incomparable ability (Fig. 35.12).50
49 Colonna 2005, 1745–1752; Cristofani 1993.

50 Fiorini and Torelli 2010.

640 Luca Cerchiai
6 The crisis
The intense development of the Archaic Etruscan cities triggered elements of internal
contradiction that eventually led the system to crisis. The consolidation of the urban
institutions and productive and commercial activity was not accompanied by the sort
of political reforms that in Rome and Magna Graecia led, not without limits and ambi-
guities, to the assertion of an autonomous class of free citizens. To contain the devel-
opment of new, potentially antagonistic social components, the ruling classes carried
out a rigid policy to depress the productive activity on which urban consumption was
sustained. This triggered a crisis both of public commission and of the agrarian popu-
lation, where a class of small free landowners was not consolidated and a peopling
based on control of the great aristocratic families recovered vigor.51
The conflict over land was not exclusive to Etruscan society, but concerns the
system of oligarchic cities of ancient Italy. It suffices to mention the struggle between
patricians and plebeians in Rome, which was overcome only with the distribution of
the ager of Veii after the conquest of the Etruscan city in 396. The unsuccessful con-
struction of a political community weakened the renewal of the social body and the
capacity for resistance against external adversaries: a weakness that proved fatal at
the moment of the clash with Rome.
Already from the middle of the fifth century, the crisis had manifested in southern
Tyrrhenian Etruria, Latium and Campania, and was aggravated by the defeat in the
naval battle of Cuma in 474. By the end of the fifth century, it had completely over-
whelmed the Etruscan world, which was incapable of resisting the pressure of the
Italic population that was poised on the edge of its territory, and would soon gain pos-
session of the fertile agrarian plain. At the beginning of the fifth century, the Volsci
occupied the Pontine plain at the same time as the Samnites settled the Sarno Valley
and the plain of Nola. According to the literacy sources in 438 on the plain of Vol-
turno was formed the people of Campani, who shortly afterward conquered Capua
and Cuma. At the end of the century, the Gauls invaded the Po Valley, only to flood as
far south as Rome, sacking it in 390. So rapid a conquest depended—other than on
the weakened internal political cohesion—on a concentration of land ownership that
favored the latifundium (large estates). The Gauls, who were about to attack Chiusi,
demanded the right to seize the land from the owners “which they possess to a greater
extent than they can cultivate” (Livy 5.36).
The rigid closing of the social structure condemned a political system that did
not know how to free itself from the principes and continued to sustain itself on the
Archaic opposition between domini and servi. The end came at Orvieto, in the slave
revolt that overwhelmed the city in 265–264 (Zonar. 8.7.4–8; Flor. 1.16; Val. Max. 9.1
ext. 2; Oros. 4.5.3–5). The local aristocracy appealed to Rome for aid to defend against
51 Torelli 1990b, 183–214; Rome 1990.

the servi or oiketai, according to the Latin or Greek sources, who—already managing
the military service and the administration—demanded rights that had been acquired
by the plebeians in Rome at least a century earlier, including marriage with patrician
women and access to public office. The request for intervention provoked the military
conquest by Rome and the destruction of the city and the federal sanctuary of the
fanum Voltumnae. This signaled the conclusion of political autonomy of the Etruscan
world—the consul M. Fulvius Flaccus triumphantly bore off the colossal booty of 2000
bronze statues from the sacked sanctuary.
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Laurent Haumesser
36 Hellenism in Central Italy
Abstract: The arrival of Hellenistic culture in central Italy during the last decades of the fourth
century and the beginning of the third was a major phenomenon. The new craft and artistic language
developed in Macedonia and in the various regions of the Hellenistic Mediterranean was very broadly
welcomed by the Etruscan, as well as Italic and Roman, elites, who made considerable use of it in
their enterprises of self-representation, along the way establishing a cultural koine. The prolifera-
tion of aristocratic monuments (honorific statues and portraits, painted and carved tombs) and more
ordinary items exhibits the very wide diffusion of a repertoire borrowed from the Hellenistic courts.
These iconographic and stylistic innovations were accompanied by a deep-seated renewal of cultural
frameworks and religious and ideological references, which with the Roman conquest of the penin-
sula made its lasting mark on ancient Italy.
Keywords: Hellenism, painting, portrait, Rome
Introduction
The years between the mid fourth and mid third centuries BCE constituted a deci-
sive period in the history of the Italian peninsula, especially of central Italy.1 First of
all, it was in these years that Rome definitively gained the upper hand over the great
cities of southern Etruria and began to incorporate the Etruscan world into its nascent
empire.2 The fourth century, which had opened with the taking of Veii, the first Etrus-
can city conquered by the Romans, in 396, was marked by a seesawing of violent
conflicts and precarious truces, which persisted all the way into the first decades of
the next century. In the third century, Rome achieved the definitive surrender of the
principal Etruscan cities and the establishment of Roman colonies on their territories.
Etruria was not the only region of Italy to be progressively conquered by Rome; after
a matching movement to the south in the last decades of the fourth century and the
beginning of the third, Rome established its stranglehold on Latium and Campania
and seized Taranto in 272.
But besides being a period of political conflict and military confrontation, these
decades, corresponding to what has come to be called the end of the Classical era and
the beginning of the Hellenistic age, were marked by a profound cultural renewal in
the forms of language, religion, political institutions as well as the representational
1 The bibliography on the theme of Hellenistic culture in Italy is immense. We will list a few recent
titles, which should be consulted for earlier bibliography. See chapters 57 Gilotta and 63 Gilotta for the
specific studies concerning the Etruscan monuments that are mentioned.
2 On the background of Rome and central Italy during this period: Roma 1973; Cornell 1995, 369–98;
Coarelli 1996, 2011.
646 Laurent Haumesser
arts. Above all, this cultural renewal reached the various regions of Italy and appears
to have been widely shared even by adversaries, including the new Roman power and
the various cities in the north and south of the peninsula, which attempted to defy
Rome’s power or had already succumbed to it. In this sense, the Roman conquest
merely confirmed and reinforced a cultural unity that had already essentially been
accomplished, borne above all by the various local elites: whether Etruscan, Roman,
or Italic, they are characterized by profound Hellenization, visible in the ideological
frameworks to which they adhered just as much as in their material and representa-
tional culture.
1 The origins of Hellenism

Thus, while the study of the Etruscan cities in this period must, to a considerable
extent, take into account the cultural situation in the rest of Italy, especially Rome, it
must also be extended to the rest of the Mediterranean. The renewal affecting the pen-
insula found its source in the Greek world of the middle decades of the fourth century,
and particularly in Macedonia.
Philip II, who ruled from 359 to 336, basically made this kingdom north of Greece
the leading power of the Greek world, politically supplanting great cities like Athens,
which was defeated in 338 in the battle of Chaeronea. The Macedonian court, to which
Philip attracted the greatest artists of the era, also became a fertile center for the crea-
tion of art and of craft, as has been shown by the many archaeological discoveries of
recent decades.3 The palaces and the princely necropolises of Macedonia have yielded
works that have considerably altered our understanding of Greek art of this period
and have provided a better understanding of the origins of Hellenistic culture. This is
especially true for painting, where the decoration of the royal tombs (beginning with
that of Philip II himself; Fig. 36.1) allows us to assess its extraordinary refinement.4
It is also true for the luxury crafts, whose richness is illustrated by the development
of objects in gold and ivory, which provide a foretaste of the splendors to come in the
Hellenistic courts.
This exceptional cultural plenitude, which is actually part of a more general
movement for renewal of the Greek artistic language, was to find its finest ambassa-
dor in the person of Alexander the Great. Succeeding to the throne after the assassina-
tion of his father Philip II in 336, Alexander overturned the Mediterranean world in
thirteen years by his policy of conquest. His victories over the king of Persia, Darius,
at Issos in 333 opened the gates of the Orient to him; he led his troops to Egypt, Meso-
3 For recent overviews, see Herakles 2011; Lane Fox 2011; Descamps-Lequime 2011.
4 Andronicos 1984; Saatsoglou-Paliadeli 2004.

36 Hellenism in Central Italy 647
Fig. 36.1: Vergina, tomb of Philip II, taken from the decoration of the facade
(after Andronicos 1984, 101)
potamia, and the banks of the Indus. In the process he created an immense kingdom,
which stretched the boundaries of the Greek world. After the death of Alexander in
Babylon in 323—conventionally taken as the beginning of the Hellenistic age—this
territory was ripped into several kingdoms, headed by his lieutenants and succes-
sors (the Diadochi). That is how the great dynastic kingdoms were gradually created
beginning at the end of the fourth century and in the first decades of the third: the
Macedonia of the Antigonides, Ptolemaic Egypt, the Seleucid kingdom in Asia Minor,
and the kingdom of Pergamum of the Attalids.
These kingdoms were to make a lasting mark on the political and cultural physi-
ognomy of the Mediterranean world. The Roman conquest began in the second
century, but was not completed until 31 BCE with the victory of Octavian (the future
Augustus) over Antony and Cleopatra at Actium, which marked both the conquest of
Ptolemaic Egypt and the end of the Hellenistic age. Up until it began, and even after,
these kingdoms contributed to the reinforcement of the Hellenization of the Mediter-
ranean brought about by Alexander. Above and beyond their political rivalries, they
also contributed to the creation of a commonality of cultural benchmarks (beginning

with the Greek language) and trends in crafts and art, a cultural and artistic koine,
which is one of the fundamental characteristics of the Mediterranean world of the
time.
To a great extent, the power of this koine is explained by the place granted to
the culture in the various centers, each of which attempted in its own way to claim
and retrieve the cultural heritage of the Greek world, which so far had been embod-
ied by the great cities like Athens. This is how the founding of the Museum and the
great library of Alexandria by Ptolemy II, one of the principal achievements of the
beginning of the Hellenistic age, must be understood. It was soon followed by the
establishment of another great library at Pergamum, which was meant to compete
with its great model in Alexandria. These great institutions of learning constitute one
of the most characteristic and fruitful aspects of the Hellenistic age, which would
provide the model for comparable organizations in imperial Rome and beyond, down
to the present day. Concern for scholarship, the gathering of knowledge, and scien-
tific research (from geography to medicine), which are at the heart of the Alexandrian
enterprise, were equally signal characteristics of the new Hellenistic culture, and they
meet in the field of art.
Hellenistic art is in fact an exceptionally intellectual, virtuoso, and eclectic art,
which owes a great deal to the movement of artists and craftsmen among the various
centers of the Hellenized Mediterranean and to their ability to adopt and refashion
the various models available to them. It is also an intellectual art to the extent that
artistic activity was accompanied by theoretical reflection about artistic activity, and
that the new modes of representation, such as (in the area of painting) a new use
of color and optical effects, are echoed in contemporary scientific research on the
mechanisms of perception. The theoretical work likewise sustained the development
of legitimate art criticism, which was endowed with its own technical vocabulary, and
which classified the previous periods and artists and codified style and technique.
The Hellenistic history of art created in this way is scarcely known to us except indi-
rectly, through the Roman authors, especially Pliny the Elder, who were steeped in
it,5 but it was to have an immense influence on the modern perception of ancient art,
especially Hellenistic art.
2 The reception of Hellenistic culture in Italy

The Hellenistic koine, which was largely responsible for the unity of a multipo-
lar world, does not mean complete uniformity. The various centers, especially the
capitals of the different kingdoms, preserved and developed obvious distinctions,
5 Pollitt 1974.

notably linked to the prior existence of a strong local cultural identity. It suffices to
cite the example of Ptolemaic Egypt, where the dynasty recuperated and adapted the
Pharaonic heritage. It was no longer a question of the absolute Hellenization of the
populations of these kingdoms; especially at the beginning of the Hellenistic age,
the new culture is primarily the work of the native and Greek elite of the capitals
and major cities and diffused only fitfully among the autochtonous populations. It
was no different in the non-Greek centers of the Mediterranean world, which also
participated, to varying degrees, in the koine. Whether in Thrace, Punic North Africa,
or Roman and Etruscan Italy, the impact of the new Hellenistic culture and the forms
it took naturally depended on the receptivity of local societies and the filtering per-
formed by the traditional framework for representation.
As for central Italy and Etruria in particular, the penetration of Hellenistic culture
was undoubtedly greatly favored by the venerable and profound Hellenization of the
local elites. This precocious Hellenization was largely due to the contacts maintained
since the Orientalizing period with Greece itself, but also to the outposts of Greek
culture in the peninsula represented by the colonies in southern Italy and Sicily. In
the period of our concern, the role of Magna Graecia and Sicily did not cease. Major
cities, beginning with Taranto, were one of the principal actors in the new Hellenistic
culture, which they adopted fully and in the reworking of which they also partici-
pated. The presence of an artist as important as Lysippus at Taranto at the end of the
fourth century suffices to show how much Magna Graecia was a leader of the innova-
tions of the period. The ability of the Greek cities of southern Italy to appropriate and
redistribute this Hellenistic culture constitute a decisive factor in understanding the
transformations at work in central Italy.6 A good number of the major characteristics
of the Hellenistic culture of the Latin and Etruscan cities were conveyed through and
elaborated upon by Magna Graecia: not only the elements of a new figural language,
but also some of the ways of thought and ideological concepts that underlie these new
representations.
Even though other paths of transmission obviously existed, it was via southern
Italy—whether by the spread of craft products or by traveling craftsmen—that the new
compositional schemata and the technological and stylistic innovations were able to
reach central Italy.7 This could be a way of explaining the early presence in the Tyr-
rhenian world of a certain number of basic elements of an early Hellenistic language.
Of particular note are certain characteristics of the grand princely tombs of Macedo-
nia, which were discovered in recent decades, that constitute the decisive monuments
for understanding the alterations in artistic work between the end of the Classical
period and the High Hellenistic. From the turn of the third century, it is significant to
7 For the importance of the links between Apulia and Etruria, see Fischer-Hansen 1993.

Fig. 36.2: Naples, hypogeum of the Cristallini

(after Baldassarre 1998, pl. 2)
find—both at Naples (hypogeum of the Cristallini: Fig. 36.2)8 and Caere (tomb of the
Charons of Greppe Sant’Angelo)—the use of the previously unknown vaulted funer-
ary chamber, a characteristic of Macedonian tombs. So also for sculpture, especially
the great exterior adornments of the tombs of Caere, Tarquinia, or Vulci, which in
both structure and style depend on models from Magna Graecia, notably the sculpted
decorations of the necropolises of Taranto.9 The decoration of the sanctuaries also
testifies to the penetration of new stylistic formulas and their wide diffusion in the
different cultural areas of central Italy. Among the most striking examples is thus
the architectural ornamentation of the sanctuary of Scasato at Falerii in the Faliscan
region, some of whose elements find very clear parallels in Latium, at Antemnae, and
8 Baldassarre 1998.
9 Carter 1975; Lippolis 2006.

at Rome itself, which can be attributed to related, if not identical, workshops that also
assimilated Tarantine influence.10
While the reception of Hellenistic culture in central Italy was considerably eased
and influenced by cities and towns in Magna Graecia, particularly Taranto, it was
also conditioned by the diversity of local situations. Each city and region evolved
its own reactions to the new stylistic, iconographic, and cultural models. Like many
other major centers of central Italy, the closeness of the links maintained with neigh-
boring centers did not prevent the development of and demand for products of their
own. The decorations of the sanctuaries of Faleries, show not only the importance
and originality of the Faliscan terracotta workshops, but also the echoes they evoked
in the Latin sanctuaries. Faliscan culture, whose links with southern Italy were old
(as attested notably by the development of red-figure pottery in the fourth century),
appears as an important conduit for Greek artistic languages to central Italy.
Likewise, in Latium, alongside the great center of Hellenism that Rome had
become by this time, other cities asserted themselves as major centers of recep-
tion and retransmission of Greek models. This was especially so in Praeneste (Pal-
estrina), where the production of bronzes provides a very clear indication of the
diffusion of Hellenism in central Italy. For instance, bronze strigils were produced
at Praeneste, objects that reflect the adoption of Greek practices, and which sig-
nificantly bear craftsmen’s marks in Greek.11 The very wide spread of these items
in central Italy (notably in Etruria and Picenum), either by traveling salesmen or by
peripatetic craftsmen, demonstrates the role played by Praeneste and its craftsmen
in the Hellenization of central Italy between the fourth and third centuries. This
role is confirmed by the discovery in Etruria and Picenum of several rare bronze
cistae, a typical product of Praeneste. The diffusion of these personal objects, which
constituted marriage gifts and bear rich figural decoration, bring to light the phe-
nomenon of family alliances and of traveling craftsmen from one region to another
of Hellenistic Italy.12
3 A case study: Hellenistic painting

One of the most striking aspects of the fate of Hellenistic culture in Italy was the
adoption by local craftsmen of a new artistic language. The diffusion of stylistic inno-
vations, which above and beyond the diversity of materials and iconographies con-
10 Comella 1994.
11 Jolivet 1995.
12 Menichetti 1995. For Etruria (tomb of the Curunas of Tuscania): Moretti and Sgubini Moretti 1983,
42–49. For Picenum: Naso 2000, 267–68. On the spread of the bronzes, especially on the travel of
bronze workers from Latium to Etruria, beginning in the fourth century, see Bonamici 1995.

stitutes one of the bases of the Hellenistic koine in the Mediterranean, is visible at
various levels in most craft products of the age. But it is in painting that the range
of innovations and the role played by Magna Graecia in their spread to Etruscan,
Roman, and Italic artistic practice is best perceived. As shown by archaeological evi-
dence, which largely agrees on this point with the ancient texts, pictorial art in the
Greek world—like sculpture—played a driving role in the definition of a new figural
culture.13 It is even more difficult to estimate the true nature of the original works than
it is for sculpture, because most are lost, attested primarily only in Macedonian funer-
ary painting. The variety of styles and patterns of composition employed in these
royal handicrafts corresponds to the coexistence of a variety of competing workshops
at the court of Philip II and then of Alexander.14 Although these workshops cannot
always be directly related to the great painters’ names that have been preserved in the
written sources, they do reveal the extent of the innovations that began to develop
at the end of the Classical period and that spread throughout the Hellenistic world,
especially in Magna Graecia and, by way of the latter, through central Italy, where
their echoes would be felt all the way down to the modern age.15
Unfortunately, the loss of the important civil and religious ornamentation, which
is well attested by the textual sources especially in Rome, deprives us of the impor-
tant creations of the time. We would love to know how the Roman temple of Salus
was adorned by Fabius Pictor in 303, which was still Classically inspired if we trust
the laudatory judgment of the Greek Dionysius of Halicarnassus (Ant. Rom. 16.3.6).
Echoes of the great painting do, however, exist in the Roman and Italic world, which
has preserved for us two of the most beautiful “derivative” works of Greek painting.
One of them is the Ficoroni cista, which belongs to a class of objects made in the Latin
city of Praeneste, but in this case was created in Rome itself, as shown by the signa-
ture of the craftsman, in Old Latin16 (Dindia Macolnia fileai dedit, Novios Plautios med
Romai fecid—the Classical equivalent is Dindia Macolnia filiae dedit, Novius Plautius
me Romae fecit). The decoration, illustrating the quest of the Argonauts (Fig. 36.3),
reflects pictorial models—perhaps a specific presentation of grand themes that was
famous in its day—once again largely Classical in inspiration, and shows the high
degree of artistic intelligence on the part of those who commissioned the object as
much as of the artist himself. The presence of the signature, which provides not only
the name of the craftsman (Novius Plautius) but also the place of production, is a very
clear indication of the status earned by these craftsmen in Rome and Latium in the
13 On Hellenistic painting in Greece, Magna Graecia, and the rest of Italy, see especially École 1998;
Descamps-Lequime 2007; La Torre and Torelli 2011; Pollitt 2015.
14 For a panorama of painted tombs of Macedonia and the variety of techniques employed, see
Brecoulaki 2006.
15 Lydakis 2004.
16 CIL I.651 = ILLRP 1197.

Fig. 36.3: Ficoroni cista, taken from the decoration engraved

on the walls (after Bordenache Battaglia and Emiliozzi 1990, pl. 302)
mid fourth century.17 The second work to be mentioned, although it is later, is the
Alexander mosaic, the centerpiece of the decoration of the very elegant House of the
Faun, a Pompeiian residence, the dimensions—and to a lesser extent the decor—of
which belongs with the Macedonian palaces. In the second century BCE, the Samnite
owner of the house made the choice to highlight a copy of a great pictorial composi-
tion from the very beginning of the Hellenistic period, an eloquent testimony to the
pervasiveness and lasting prestige of the models of the new representational culture
in the heritage of the Italic populations.18
The actual pictorial materials, even though they often belong to minor genres or
objects, are rich in information on the introduction into central Italy’s craftsmanship
of the new Hellenistic techniques of painting. Thus, the reorganization of the palette,
especially a pronounced preference for colored backgrounds—in particular midnight
blue and pink—appears clearly on the Sarcophagus of the Amazons, a characteristic
item from the end of the fourth century, discovered at Tarquinia, whose links with
the art of Magna Graecia, Taranto in particular, have recently been revealed.19 This
painting on stone, of which a whole series of examples from the beginning of the
third century are known in southern Italy,20 very clearly illustrates the new role color
played in Hellenistic painting. One of the most characteristic items are the pocola
deorum, vases made in Rome that depend to a great extent on the new cults intro-
duced to the Urbs in this period.21 These vases, whose Latin inscriptions call them
17 Rouveret 1994. For the corpus of Praenestine cistae, see Bordenache Battaglia and Emiliozzi 1979,
1990; Jurgeit 1986; Coppola 2000.
18 Zevi 2000; Moreno 2001.
19 Bottini and Setari 2007.
20 Bottini and Setari 2009.
21 Cifarelli, Ambrosini and Nonnis 2002–3; Ambrosini 2012–2013.

pocolom and associate them with gods, bear overpainted decorations usually of a
humble subject but realized with luminous touches of color (mostly white, but also
yellow or red) that jump out of the black glaze background. Influenced by produced
in southern Italy ceramics with overpainted decoration, perhaps through the arrival
of craftsmen from Magna Graecia, this technique reveals the development within
Roman craftsmanship of new techniques of contemporary painting, just as they are
found in the same period in the work in the Tomb of the Garlands of Tarquinia as well
as in the tombs of Macedonia, Alexandria, and southern Italy.22
4 The circulation of iconographic models

Among the pocola one very important example stands out, both for its size and for
its subject. This is a dish from Capena bearing the image of a combat elephant ridden
by armed warriors and followed by a calf (Fig. 36.4). We know of other copies of this
pocolom, found in Etruscan contexts, which like most pocola, testify to the intensity
of trade between Rome and the Etrurian cities in the first decades of the third century.
The iconography reflects the introduction of the elephant into Hellenistic armies. The
motive has sometimes been related to the campaign of Pyrrhus in southern Italy. It is
in any case a typically Hellenistic composition, which demonstrates the arrival in the
Roman workshops of sketches that were moreover very widely known. It is significant
in this connection to find the same image at the other end of the Mediterranean, on
silver Bactrian phalerae that, although later, probably go back to the same model.23
This very broad and very rapid circulation of iconographic models is a major char-
acteristic of Hellenistic culture. The ability to adapt compositional sketches and this
game of switching from one technique to another demonstrates the virtuosity of the
Italian craftsmen, which characterized Hellenistic art from the beginning. From the
ornamentation of the facade of the Tomb of Judgment in Lefkadia, where the metopes
bear painted decoration simulating a relief and the reliefs of the frieze give a pictorial
impression, this is easy to see.24 Similarly, the development of the mosaic—greatly
refined at the end of the fourth century, based on archaeological evidence from the
Macedonian houses of Pella—appears closely linked to the new pictorial models of
the age, which became transposed to tapestries of the floor, made of pebbles, and also
for some details of bits of terra-cotta or lead.25 Thus we see iconographic systems bor-
22 For the comparison with the tomb of the Festons: Bianchi Bandinelli and Giuliano 1973, 289. On
the decoration of the tomb and its Hellenistic parallels, see Steingräber 1988; Harari 2010. For very
similar decoration of a tomb in Alexandria, see Guimier-Sorbets and Seif el-Din 2002.
23 Ambrosini 2005, 176.
24 Brecoulaki 2006, 206–8.
25 Guimier-Sorbets 2007.

Fig. 36.4: Pocolom (after Bianchi Bandinelli 1969, fig. 28)
rowed from major artists of the age laid down on different surfaces using varied tech-
niques that attest to the investigations and innovations of the craftsmen of the age.
This is the case, as we have seen, of the paintings imitated on the Ficoroni cista and
in the Alexander mosaic; it may also be the case of the elephant motif of the pocola,
which we might be tempted to relate to one of the panels by Apelles on Alexander’s
funerary carriage.26
The great painted cycles on the gentilic tombs of southern Etruria that are
emblematic monuments of the development of painting in central Italy at the end of
the Classical period and the very beginning of the Hellenistic age also provide a fairly
precise idea of the abilities of the Italian craftsmen to assimilate and reuse contem-
26 Moreno 2001, 112–13.

porary systems of representation, which from then on were party to a shared figural
culture. Thus the scene of the sacrifice of Trojan prisoners, depicted in the François
Tomb, is simply the most successful version of an especially popular series—painted,
engraved, or sculpted—created in the major centers of Italy:27 an Apulian krater, a
Praenestine cista, a Faliscan stamnos, Etruscan stone sarcophagi and urns. More than
seeking a hypothetical prototype (an Urbild that has most often, significantly, been
situated in Magna Graecia), here we will be sensitive to the way in which the icono-
graphic systems circulated among the various workshops of Italy and were readjusted
by the craftsmen according to context and commission.28 The secondary decoration
of the François Tomb allows this finding to be extended to the level of the decorative
language, which in the Hellenistic age took on a new importance. This refers to friezes
of animals in combat, one of the most common elements of the repertoire of the age,
which simultaneously appears in the form of reliefs on the walls of the Mercareccia
tomb in Tarquinia. The motif was no doubt taken from the decoration of southern
Italic fine furniture, notably on the gilded terra-cotta appliqués from Taranto, though
it would have been found throughout the Mediterranean and beyond, on all sorts of
surfaces.
5 Celebrating the aristocrat: The portrait

The Hellenization of central Italy, observable as we have seen in the appropriation
of an artistic language developed in Greece or southern Italy, is equally character-
ized by a profound reworking of the frameworks of representation. Since Hellenistic
culture is first and foremost a court art, which found fertile soil in the various capitals
of the Hellenistic kingdoms, from the start it developed innovative ways of celebrat-
ing new Mediterranean dynasts, beginning with the art of the portrait. Alexander the
Great’s decision, reported by the ancient sources, to entrust his portraits exclusively
to Apelles for painting, to Lysippus for sculpture, and to Pyrgoteles for gems,29 reveals
the importance the sovereign attached to the reproduction of his image and to its dif-
fusion. By being inspired by Alexander’s model and by creating models of their own,
Alexander’s successors set up a repertoire of types and forms on which the elite and—
gradually—the subordinate classes of the various regions of the Hellenistic Mediter-
ranean could draw to ensure their own self-aggrandizement.
The Italian elite, whose resurgence is visible in the second half of the fourth century
and the first decades of the third, would therein find one of the essential vectors of
27 Maggiani 1995, 208–12.

28 Rouveret 2002; Gilotta 2002.
29 Plin. HN 7.125; for the texts and documents relating to these artists and to the portraits of Alexander,
see Pollitt 1990 and Moreno 1995.

Fig. 36.5: Bronze head from

San Giovanni Lipioni. Paris, Cabinet
des médailles et des antiques
(after Coarelli 2011, fig. 169)
the affirmation of their identity and power. The development of the “Etrusco-Italic”
portrait, one of the most original features of the representational culture of central
Italy at the time, thus appears closely linked to the diffusion of the models at the
beginning of the Hellenistic age.30 It was first of all a public phenomenon: as with the
dedication of temples, at the turn of the third century, the development of honorific
statues celebrating the victorious generals became one of the chief elements of reli-
gious expression (connected above all to an ideology of victory that found its roots in
the Hellenistic world) and of Roman political life as well. This ostentatious behavior
was also shared by Etruscan aristocrats, as shown by several rare examples of bronze
heads (no doubt some of which are the mere surviving remnants of life-sized statues),
especially the head from Fiesole, now in the Louvre.31 Extensions of these practices
into Italic regions are also found, as shown by the bronze head from San Giovanni
Lipioni (Fig. 36.5) discovered in Samnium, whose disputed attribution (to a Roman
or a Samnite general) indicates the commonality of language between the sides of
30 Papini 2004, 2011; La Rocca and Parisi Presicce 2011.

31 Papini 2004, 111–19; Gaultier 2011.

Fig. 36.6: Sarcophagus of Scipio Barbatus. Vatican City, Vatican Museums (after Italia omnium
terrarum parens, fig. 232)
central Italy.32 It should also be noted that the currency of the portrait is equally dem-
onstrated in the votive terra-cottas, which began to be produced at the end of the
fourth century and provide some of the clearest evidence of the very wide diffusion of
the Hellenistic figural culture in the societies of central Italy.
These documents from the public sphere find their counterparts in the funerary
domain, as attested especially by the beautiful portrait of Vel Saties in the François
Tomb at Vulci, which represents the best parallel to the representations of those cele-
brated Roman triumphs of the time, which survive only in traces. Likewise, the painted
decorations of the tombs of Tarquinia (Tomba degli Scudi or Tomb of the Shields),
Capua, and Paestum, where the accent is placed on the status of the deceased and his
place within the gens, once again show the close cultural and ideological relationship
of the Etruscan, Roman, and Campanian elite.33 Finally, alongside these painted por-
traits, the Etruscan sarcophagi also allow us to assess the fortune of the Hellenistic
models, especially Ptolemaic portraits, among Etruscans who commissioned them in
the first decades of the third century.
Given the absence of sufficient data on domestic decoration at this time, once
again it is the funerary domain that best expresses the way the Etruscan and Italic
aristocrats resorted to models from the Hellenistic monuments to make their status
32 Strazzulla 1997; Papini 2004, 99–111; Avagliano 2011.

33 For the depictions from Capua: Benassai 2001, 24–29, 210–15. For the tombs of Paestum (tomb of
the Magistrate of Spinazzo): Pontrandolfo 1998.

visible. We have already mentioned how the exteriors of the great gentilic tombs of
southern Etruria could take on a monumental aspect, taking the form (unfortunately
not sufficiently recoverable in our present state of knowledge) of a shrine (aedicula)
or at least of a sculpted exterior, the way it was done in Magna Graecia.34 The most
striking examples of monumentalization of the tomb and its facade may be sought
in the rock-cut necropolises of Norchia and Sovana, which offer the best parallels to
the great Hellenistic mausolea and especially once again to the examples in southern
Italy. Even though it has hardly any monuments that are as spectacular (or ostenta-
tious), Rome too testifies in its way to the penetration of the Greek models for memo-
rializing the dead. The mausoleum of the Scipios, with the sarcophagus of Scipio Bar-
batus (Fig. 36.6), reveals how the expression of the ideology of the deceased and his
family had recourse to Greek models, which are clearly visible in the altar that lends
its form to the sarcophagus itself, as well as in the values expressed in the eulogy
inscribed on the monument. The insistence on his physical appearance in the cel-
ebration of the deceased (forma) and his moral worth (virtus) reflects the quintes-
sentially Greek ideals of beauty and virtus of a man who is “handsome and valiant”
(Gk. καλὸς κἀγατός).35
6 The new cultural frameworks

The implicit reference to Greek values in the eulogy for Scipio Barbatus testifies to the
adherence by the Roman elites to Greek culture that went beyond representational
culture alone. The observation can be extended to the elites of other regions of central
Italy: the use of new styles and new modes of representation is accompanied by very
deep familiarity with cultural references from the Greek world. We are sometimes even
tempted to speak of scholarship, in view of the obscure mythological subjects—and
often only sparsely attested in Greece itself—that are used in some representational
programs. This familiarity with Greek culture, which assumes mastery of the lan-
guage by at least a portion of these social groups, is placed in the service of the aris-
tocrats’ and their craftsmen’s own concerns. We might think of the development of a
staging of historical traditions, primarily of the question of origins: Greek myth plays
a fundamental role in the genealogical strategies and the discourses on identity of the
elites of Italy at this time, as is well shown by the complex decoration of the François
Tomb, where political, historical, and mythological references are intertwined. One
may say as much of the corpus of Etruscan and Praenestine mirrors and especially of
the Praenestine cistae, all of which summon mythological and sometimes historical
34 Lippolis 2006.
35 Zevi 1970; see also Pesando 1990.

knowledge. The commerce within Etruscan and Praenestine society of these feminine
objects, which are associated with marriage and matrimonial strategizing, demon-
strates their importance in the assertion of the values and culture of the aristocrats.36
Finally, we may recall the influence in Italy of the various philosophical and reli-
gious doctrines developed in Greece and Magna Graecia, which participated in the
complexity of the religious fervor of the age, where the very clear Greek influences
blend into the traditional frameworks of the local religions. Beyond the diffuse and
already ancient influence of Dionysianism, we should at least mention the impact of
the Orphic-Pythagorean doctrines, detectable in some figural programs of the age,
which testify that the new religious sensitivity was sometimes able to take esoteric
or mystery forms. In a world where religion is inseparable from public life, the new
trends in religion and thought also bore a non-negligible political weight. We have
already spoken of the importance of the development in Rome and Italy of an ideol-
ogy of victory, in the Hellenistic mold. Pythagorean doctrines, which developed in
Magna Graecia, notably Taranto, also had a profound influence on public life, as evi-
denced by Appius Claudius Caecus, who was also one of the emblematic figures in the
changes at work in Rome between the end of the fourth century and the first decades
of the third.37 The erection of a statue of Pythagoras in the Roman Forum at about the
same time is another shining example of the public reception in Rome of the political
and philosophical models of the Greek world.38
7 Conclusion
The welcome given by the Roman nobilitas to these ideological concepts, inseparable
from the reworking of the figural language of the time, explains how a fourth-century
Greek could call Rome a Greek city (Gk. πόλις ἑλλενίς).39 This view of the Urbs also
explains the place occupied by Rome in the Mediterranean and Italian context at the
end of the Classical period and the beginning of the Hellenistic age, and in particu-
lar its relationship with the Greek world. Still only a regional power, Rome began to
establish its dominion over the center and south of the Italian peninsula and soon
found itself confronted by the powerful Greek colonies of southern Italy but also by
the new powers of the Hellenistic world. The Romans at first observed from a distance
the expedition of Alexander I of Molossis, king of Epirus, who came in support of
the Greek cities of southern Italy against the Italic peoples, just when his nephew
36 Menichetti 1995; Gilotta 2002.

37 Humm 2005.
38 Plin. HN 34.26; cf. Humm 2005, 541–64.
39 Heraclid. Pont. fr. 102 W = FGrH 840 F 23. On this notice and the view of Rome in the Greek sources,
see Vanotti 1999.

and brother-in-law Alexander the Great set out to conquer the barbarian Orient.40
Relations between Rome and the great conqueror himself, if they existed at all, are
documented in the imaginary historical reconstructions of later historians, such as
a well-known excursus by the Roman historian Livy (9.16–17). What might have hap-
pened if Alexander had not died in Babylon and had turned his armies toward the
West and Rome? It is significant that this question—entirely rhetorical, in that the
Romans saw themselves emerging victorious in such a confrontation—was notably
posed by Appius Claudius Caecus in a speech around 280, during the war against
Pyrrhus, which was the first time the Romans faced a Hellenistic army. The happy
outcome of the war and the taking of Taranto in 272 sealed this first phase of relations
between Rome and the Hellenistic world, and definitively established Rome’s domin-
ion over central and southern Italy.
These few decades when Rome established its ascendancy over Italy and began to
offer itself as intermediary for the great Hellenistic kingdoms were also the moment,
as we have said, when the principal Etruscan cities confronted Rome and then lost
their independence. Yet it is remarkable to note how the cities most directly in touch
with the Romans throughout this period and into the first decades of the third century
preserved their cultural autonomy and their ability to adopt the innovations of the
Hellenistic artistic language, which made them full participants in the Hellenistic
koine. The gradual incorporation of Etruria into the incipient Roman Empire would
change the game. The gradual decline of the cities of southern Etruria and the taking
under guardianship of the cities of northern Etruria would make of Rome, beginning
at the end of the third century, the real center of cultural power in Italy.41 The second
great phase of diffusion of Hellenistic culture, linked above all to the second-century
Roman conquest of the Hellenistic kingdoms and to the influx into the Urbs of Greek
artworks and craftsmen, definitively marks the cultural preeminence of Rome in Italy
and throughout the Mediterranean. The renewal of the artistic language that followed
in Italy is equally perceptible in the scenograhic monumentalization of sanctuaries
of Latium, beginning with the sanctuary of Fortuna at Praeneste, as in the decora-
tions of alabaster urns in Volterra. But unlike what had happened during the fourth
century and at the beginning of the third, when Hellenistic culture had been as much
a phenomenon of the Italic and Etruscan elite as of the Roman, these new Hellenistic
models from that point forward assume the mediation of Rome.
40 Zevi 2004.
41 See chapter 37 Marcone.

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Arnaldo Marcone
37 Romanization
Abstract: The process of expansion of Rome into Etruria unfolded over a rather long span of time. The
progressive expansionism of Rome in Italy also presupposes an ensemble of legal relationships that
must be kept in mind. In general terms, the phenomenon that is usually referred to as “Romanization”
assumes three factors:
1. capacity to organize and carry out conquest and in the process mitigate conflict.
2. capacity to give attention in a pragmatic and realistic way to the interests of the communities
which progressively came under Roman control.
3. capacity to design diverse and flexible legal forms for the regulation of Rome’s relations with the
newly conquered communities.
The Roman policy toward Etruria was not homogeneous and presents a variety of approaches that
realistically reflect various socioeconomic situations. In the north, the Roman victory required a
notable financial outlay on the part of the defeated community, with the consequent reinforcement
of the ruling oligarchy; in the south, the Roman victory brought about extensive cessions of territory
from the defeated community.
Romanization, even if this is taken simply to mean the assimilation of Roman customs by local
populations, was necessarily accompanied by economic exploitation. The complex Roman road
organization in the region is considered an essential feature of this policy, and consciously aimed
to enhance the value of under populated areas such as the Albegna Valley that lent themselves to
profitable cultivation.
Keywords: Romanization, Expansionism, Integration, Society, Aristocracy
Introduction
The process of Roman expansion into Etruria unfolded over a rather long span of
time. The economic and social development of Tyrrhenian Italy during the eighth
century, which presupposes the rise and consolidation of private land ownership,
resulted in major social schisms with the birth of powerful aristocracies that exercised
politico-military power and were distinct from the remainder of the population, with
significant inequality in economic status. The Rome of the monarchy and of the early
republic appears similar in its internal characteristics to the situation of many other
communities in the Tuscany-Latium region.1
I am very grateful to Enrico Benelli, Peter Garnsey and Alessandro Naso for their help and advice
while writing this article.
1 Torelli 1999.
666 Arnaldo Marcone
1 The reasons for Roman expansionism

Setting aside the political repercussions of the expulsion of the Tarquins at the end
of the monarchic period (late sixth century) that resulted in the temporary several-
decade halt of Roman expansion, the Roman expansionism basically has to be con-
sidered the result of two parallel and complementary phenomena—namely, internal
social tension and demographic pressure. In other words, the need for Rome to find
new lands for its own citizens is at base a colonialist phenomenon of increasing rel-
evance, with ever-increasing political and territorial implications.2
We must take into account the way the distribution of land in the new colonies and
in viritane (individual) allocations was managed and how, even in the fifth century,
the poorer section of the Roman population benefited from territorial expansion. It
is obvious that in the first decades of the Roman Republic there was a demographic
problem that they tried to resolve in various ways.
It must be recalled that there were fundamentally two phases of the colonialist
phenomenon. The first, which dates back to the period from the late monarchic age to
the early republic, is difficult to reconstruct because its features are lost in an annal-
istic tradition that is too greatly colored by subsequent events. What seems certain is
that this colonialist enterprise unfolded at the initiative of family groups led by indi-
vidual “condottieri”. The case of Satricum is exemplary. We are in a period marked
by widespread horizontal social mobility throughout the Tyrrhenian region and is
well exemplified by Lucumo who moved from Tarquinia to Rome, where he assumed
the name Tarquinius.3 Meanwhile, Etruscan expansion into Campania culminated in
the siege of Cumae in 525 BCE. The final act was an episode that was to profoundly
alter Etruscan history in the fifth century and, therefore, the history of all of south-
central Italy, namely the naval battle fought in the waters off Cumae in 474. Hiero I of
Syracuse, allied with Aristodemus, the tyrant of Cumae, after he was called for mili-
tary assistance, met and defeated the Etruscan fleet. In an amazing coincidence, not
so unusual in the ancient historiographic tradition, the annalist reports that in the
same year a truce was declared between Veii and Rome after a conflict that had lasted
a decade. The Etruscan defeat at Cumae had repercussions for the general political
equilibrium.
On the one hand, the Etruscan ports on the Tyrrhenian Sea saw a clear decrease in
their commercial activities as a result of the huge drop in importation of Attic pottery.
On the other, it promoted the development of the Adriatic trading centers of Atria and
Spina that functioned as the ports of entry for such imports.
2 Gabba 1988.
3 Ampolo 2009.

37 Romanization 667
2 The stages of Roman expansion

To understand the stages and methods of Roman expansion, it is absolutely neces-
sary to keep in mind the complexity of the situation in Latium between Etruscans and
Latins. Also relevant are the Faliscans, an ethnic group who spoke a language closely
related to Latin, and the Capenates. The Ager Faliscus (Faliscan territory), bounded
on the east by the Tiber and on the west by the Cimini Hills, is encompassed by the
basin of the Treja, a right-bank tributary of the Tiber, and is dominated by Monte
Soratte. Capena, on the other hand, is little more than an enclave resulting from the
penetration of groups speaking the Sabine language who crept into a little loop of
the Tiber south of Monte Soratte. These were groups of people who played a role in
the increasing Roman control of both banks of the river. The first significant step was
the subjugation of Fidene, which was situated on the Etruscan bank of the Tiber. The
conquest of this site, which probably happened in 435 (or 416), had results of funda-
mental importance for trade along the river and for the struggles that arose with the
Etruscan city of Veii. It turned out to be a situation of great instability and more or
less perpetual conflict that would come to involve the entire region. In the ten-year
war between Rome and Veii (405–396), the Capenates as well as the Faliscans sided
with the Veientes. The turning-point came in 396 when, at the end of a long siege, Veii
was stormed by Rome and its territory was subdivided for Roman colonists into lots
of uncertain dimensions. These are the circumstances in which four new territorial
tribes were created at Rome with viritane land distribution.
The conquest of Veii, with its echoes of the Trojan epic, signals an undeniable
qualitative leap in the initial phases of Roman imperialism, when the territory con-
trolled by Rome encompassed an area approximately equal to that of all the rest of the
Latin-speaking community.
Between the fourth and the early third centuries, the middle Tiber Valley became
part of Roman territory. The conquest of Veii was followed successively by those of
Capena the next year, of Nepi and Sutri between 390 and 389, of the entire Sabine ter-
ritory at the beginning of the third century, and finally, of Falerii Veteres in 241, which
was then rebuilt elsewhere as Falerii Novi. This was a gradual process—it took about a
century and a half—whose methods and various stages cannot easily be reconstructed
with sufficient precision. As it has been suggested, the Roman expansionist thrust
seems to have been caused and promoted by internal crises, especially of a social
nature, in the fifth century. The conquest of Veii in fact tripled the area of Roman ter-
ritory and provided a resolution of the need to find lands for the plebeians.
Let us recall that, during the fourth century, as far as can be determined from the
results of the Tiber Valley Project conducted by the British School at Rome, the area
of the Tiber appears to be void of occupation.4 Notwithstanding the creation of four
4 Di Giuseppe 2008.

668 Arnaldo Marcone
new tribes and the concession of lands to non-citizens, the archaeological evidence
does not permit us to determine the extent of this occupation, although the settle-
ments become more visible between the end of the fourth and the first half of the third
century. Capena, for example, having surrendered to Rome in 395, continued to be a
site of modest size with a good part of its territory used as ager publicus. Its exclusion
from the network of the main lines of communication restricted its function to one of
meeting the needs of the small rural villages that had developed nearby. Much more
dramatic, however, was the case of Falerii, which after a series of rebellions, in 241
provoked a severe Roman intervention that led to the destruction of the city. Half the
territory was ceded to the conquerors while the surviving inhabitants were deported
to a flat area that was difficult to defend, where Falerii Novi was founded.
In general, all the agri now have most of their settlers in sites occupied for the
first time, in locations different from those previously occupied. The number of set-
tlers who continued from the Archaic period, the sole exception being the Capena
area, seems to be greatly reduced. As for the mid-republican sites, they were all newly
founded, which reflects the fact that some of the territory was only reclaimed from the
Cimina forest toward the middle of the third century. As for the Sabine territory, the
indications of new settlement almost quadruple. Here occupation of the territory took
the form of viritane allocations. Roman expansion into Etruria was in reality anything
but linear. In 358 there was an attempt by Tarquinia to stop it that was supported by
its allies the Faliscans and the Caerites. This sort of reaction to the increasing Roman
pressure, after some initial success, produced no significant results. In 351 Caere left
the alliance and negotiated a forty-year truce.
The decisive moment in the progress of Roman expansion into Etruria seems to
have been the conquest of Vulci in 280. The hostility between the Etruscans, who
probably acted as a league, and Rome recommenced in 311,5 when the initiative was
taken by the cities of central Etruria, who reacted to the increasing Roman pres-
sure. Hostilities began with an attack on Sutri carried out by all the Etruscan cities
of central Etruria except for Arretium. This first phase of the war ended in 307 with
a separate truce with Tarquinia and a substantial Etruscan defeat. The outcome of
this conflict favored the further expansion of Rome into the central Tiber Valley and
Umbria, where in 299 the Latin colony of Narnia was founded. This emergency per-
suaded the Etruscans to ally with the traditional enemies of Rome, the Samnites and
Gauls, a coalition that was routed by Rome in the battle of Sentino in 295. From this
moment on, the cities were annexed one by one. The last to submit was Caere in 273.
As for Vulci, the complexity of the Roman conquest on the cultural level—and of
its difficulties—seems to be indicated by the cycle of frescoes preserved in the Fran-
çois Tomb (late fourth century). The degree of conceptual and artistic elaboration
of the paintings implies a high degree of ideological commitment on the part of the
5 Harris 1971.

37 Romanization 669
client. There is a great theme, or rather a powerful recollection, that appears to be

deduced from the contrasting scenes on the two sides of the tomb that portray on
one side episodes from Greek mythology—specifically, the Thebaid—and on the other
episodes from the recent history of Vulci and Etruria. They deal with disunity, and its
consequences, exemplified in the highly effective scene of the murder-suicide of Eteo-
cles and Polynices. But it is also legitimate to extrapolate6 an appeal for harmony, as
is evinced by the scene in which Achilles and Agamemnon, now reconciled, preside
over the sacrifice of the Trojan captives. In parallel, the fight scenes of many eminent
Vulcentes with representatives of other Etruscan cities do not appear to refer to a
specific individual event so much as to evoke in brief the emotion of a war lost.7 In
particular, the heroic moment shown in the picture representing the liberation of
Caile Vipienas by Macstarna seems intended to portray a glorious epoch now almost
entirely past. The total message entrusted to the frescoes is that fighting an enemy
(the Trojans for the Greeks, the Romans for the Etruscans) requires internal harmony.
If this is true, the original juxtaposition of myth and history would be a hard-won and
lofty reflection on the part of the Etruscans of their identity at the moment when they
realized that they were put at risk of subjection to an external power. It is obvious
what problems such a level of ideological elaboration would pose for Romanization.
The final moment of Etruria’s subjugation to Rome is considered to be the siege
and consequent destruction of Volsinii in 265 with the evocatio, the appropriation by
Rome with its transfer into the city of Vertumna/Vertumnus of the patron god of the
league of Etruscan peoples, which was dissolved once and for all.
3 ‘Romanization’
The growing expansionism of Rome in Italy also presupposes an ensemble of legal
relationships that must be kept in mind. It is true that such relationships, analyzed in
the abstract, are insufficient to account for the complexities of the phenomenon that
brought Rome to its hegemonic position.
The first case to be recorded is the destruction of Falerii, which demonstrated
harsh treatment almost without parallel (save for Volsinii), and which can be
explained as the need to make an example when Rome emerged victorious from the
First Punic War. In general, in fact, the Roman policy in Etruria seems to have been to
respect the extant situation, seeking cooperation from the local aristocracy. It is true
that archaeological investigation documents the reality that Rome’s arrival in a terri-
tory signaled a total reorganization with major resulting changes for the population.
6 Musti 2005.
7 Pallottino 1987.

670 Arnaldo Marcone
There is no doubt that the colony of Cosa evidences features of marked aggression
that imply the expulsion of the resident population. In the years immediately fol-
lowing, between 264 and 245, Rome founded at least three maritime colonies—Pyrgi,
Castrum Novum, and Alsium, and, in Caerete territory, Fregenae (Fregene)—along the
coast, in the territory of Vulci, directly south of Cosa.
Actually, Roman policy toward Etruria was anything but homogeneous: it exhib-
its a variety of approaches that probably reflect considerations of various socioeco-
nomic as well as territorial conditions. In the north, Roman victory generally involved
the imposition of a sizeable financial penalty on the defeated community, with the
consequent reinforcement of the dominant oligarchy; in the south, however, exten-
sive cessions of territory by the defeated community followed successful conquest.
Among the peculiar legal instruments that Rome used was that known as civitas
sine suffragio. The origins of this peculiar institution are anything but clear. One pos-
sibility is that it was originally designed as a privilege of specific individuals in spe-
cific localities of residence in Rome who might exercise certain activities in a state of
guardianship, somewhat like the metic (metoikos, resident alien) in Athens. Although
not a proven hypothesis, it is a common opinion that Caere was the first city on which
civitas sine suffragio was conferred.8 According to Livy (5.50.3), on the occasion of
the capture of Rome by the Gauls, Lucius Albinius had the Vestals, the priests, and
the sacra transported to Caere on a wagon; and the Caeretes supposedly offered their
hospitality. In exchange for this support, the Romans had conceded to the inhabitants
of Caere civitas sine suffragio, putting this institution into practice for the first time. Its
introduction in the middle of the conflict with the Samnites, and thus with the Latins,
makes it difficult to understand fully the terms of its application and its real purpose.
Rome resorted frequently to the institution of the civitas sine suffragio from 338
until the middle of the second century, but after that it was gradually abandoned.
It is possible that the communities that had entered into the Roman orbit accepted
this policy because Rome might have allowed these communities to maintain internal
autonomy. In any event, perhaps by reason of the difficulty represented by the rapid
incorporation of new territories, Rome abandoned the use of civitas sine suffragio in
favor of treaties (Lat. foedera), which were probably considered an effective instru-
ment, by reason of their greater flexibility, for organizing a conquest. The various
types of foedera known to us suggest a realistic approach to the variety of local reali-
ties. The foedera called aequa allowed a community considerable freedom of political
action. Other foedera contained much more restrictive clauses (the term iniquum for
such types of foedera does not seem to be Roman) that generally included the obliga-
tion to provide military contingents. Essentially, this community was deprived of any
form of autonomy in external relations. With respect to Etruria in the wider sense, we
have explicit mention of only one foedus, that with Falerii. This absence of documen-
8 Sordi 1960.

37 Romanization 671
tation might, however, be explained by the gap in Livy’s text for a period correspond-
ing to that in which many foedera could have been drawn up.
It is usually thought that Roman policy in Etruria respected existing conditions
and was the reason for the solid social fabric that was in force in the different city-
states. It may be imagined that Rome was aware of the difficulties that would have
accompanied a process of assimilation that would call into question the consolidated
balance.
The treatment reserved for Vulci in 281 deserves attention. Vulci was quite large
(ca. 2,000 km²) and at least half was confiscated. Rome’s interventions in it are evi-
dence of a very specific plan that presupposes a radical administrative reorganization
of the conquered territory with the foundation of colonies in strategic locations and
the systematic design of a road network (see section 8 The progress of Romanization,
below).
4 The colonial foundations

Among the colonial foundations, Cosa has special significance. Its primarily strategic
value seems obvious—that is, military control over the territory of this colony. Cosa
was founded at the same time as Paestum in 273 as a result of the victory of Tiberius
Coruncanius over the Etruscans of Vulci and Volsinii. The Romans had taken from
Vulci the coastal strip similar to what had been done with Tarquinia, in whose terri-
tory the Latin colony of Gravisca had been placed. The confiscated lands were in part
incorporated into the ager Romanus and in part left to autonomous administration by
the colony under Latin law. This would have to oversee a wide territory (ca. 550 km²)
that included the promontory of Orbetello up to twenty kilometers inland.9
The principal military purpose—progressive restraint of the hostile population,
which in the case of Cosa seems undeniable—must not lead to the undervaluation
of the demographic significance of Latin colonization and its effects on the evolu-
tion of Roman society during the third and second centuries. The data available to
us are striking. Rome’s use of colonies of the Latin type, such as Cosa, which imply
the participation of groups of a large number of colonists (at least 2,500, whereas the
colonies civium Romanorum count no more than 300 colonists), turns out over a long
period to be an instrument particularly adapted to involve extensive social groups in
colonial policy.
The founding of a colony with Latin rights, in fact, brought into existence a com-
munity that was formally autonomous, without involving an expansion of Roman
territory. Such a community served nonetheless a basic need of Rome, which was
9 Celuzza 2002.

672 Arnaldo Marcone
military, in so far as it was obliged to furnish contingents of troops. The colonization

process had various results of considerable importance to the beginnings of urbani-
zation that were particularly significant where earlier settlement had been widely
scattered. Cosa, an example of an “intermittent town”10 characterized by quite dis-
tinct phases of settlement and episodes of abandonment and revival, represents an
especially interesting case because it seems to reveal a complex strategic design over
a long period for the control and exploitation of areas of great military and economic
interest. At this site there was probably an original Etruscan settlement of modest
size. It now seems clear from recent excavations that the urban fabric of Cosa did
not immediately increase upon the initial founding in 273, but only upon the second
founding by a further 1,000 colonists in 197. As we know from Livy, the colonists were
chosen from the allies of Rome in the Second Punic War and were probably veterans.
The Cosa countryside saw a considerable increase in density of settlement, with small
houses built especially in favored areas like the Oro Valley, which also holds for the
construction of the Via Aurelia.
Cosa reproduced a situation like that of other colonies founded after the Second
Punic War. Aquileia, the last Latin colony founded in an especially difficult environ-
ment in 181, presents significant similarities. Here too, the lots assigned to the colo-
nists were differentiated according to rank: a tripartition that would certainly guaran-
tee social and political priority to the representatives of the upper classes. Aquileia,
like Cosa, also received a boost of colonists a decade or so after the initial founding.11
It must also be noted that at the beginning of the third century, when Sabina was
definitively conquered by Manius Curius Dentatus, the new territory would experi-
ence a new system. Aside from what was left to the inhabitants who had had the
status of cives sine suffragio the public land was in part assigned by viritane conces-
sions to the plebeians or else granted, by means of quaestorian sale—thus in perma-
nent and hereditary possession (a sort of emphyteusis)—to representatives of privi-
leged classes. The conquest of Sabina in fact paved the way for Rome to control the
Adriatic by precluding the possibility of a uniting of Etruscans and Samnites.
Rome’s victory over Vulci also marks the beginning of Rome’s penetration into the
interior along the Albegna and Flora Valleys. Rome founded the colony of Saturnia in
the upper Albegna Valley in 183, which is a difficult decision to explain.12 The military
explanation is unsatisfactory because, while it is true that the site was. as it proved,
readily defensible, it is not clear why it might have considered vulnerable, in as much
as it lay far from the coast. Saturnia, along with Parma and Mutina (Modena), which
were founded in the same year, was the first colony situated far from the coast to have
Roman status, so that the colonists had full Roman rather than Latin rights. It is thus
10 Fentress 2003; 2004.

11 Bandelli 2003.
12 Harris 1971.

37 Romanization 673
likely that it had received a number of colonists greater than was standard for Roman
colonies, perhaps 2,000, just like Parma and Mutina. Cosa is a settlement of the old
type of rectangular formation.13 Saturnia, on the contrary, was divided into squares
canonic for the centuria. In general, these developments marked a radical change in
the organization of the territory, which knew no significant settlement up to the third
century, from which time the process of urbanization began.
The scale of Saturnia’s colonial foundation is unknown, but its territorial extent
seems suited to have received 2,000 colonists with their families, through a complex
organization of centuriated land equal to about 50 km². The regular distribution of the
villas in an area of centuriated territory leaves open the possibility that such estates
were already foreseen in the initial plan for the colony, and thus the prerogative of a
privileged class, who perhaps was encouraged to settle by reason of advantageous
conditions.
As for the founding of the colony of Heba (Magliano), which was a decisive event
for the economic development of the lower Albegna Valley, we cannot be sure of the
date. Its foundation marks the end of the reorganization of the Vulci countryside,
and it is a reasonable hypothesis that it occurred around the middle of the second
century, although the lack of Livy’s text for the years 167–133 deprives us of reliable
information on the colonizations of this period. It is significant that archaeological
investigation has brought to light some of the characteristics of the organization of
the territory that was very like that of Saturnia. In particular at Heba, as at Saturnia,
allocations have been shown to have differed according to location. In both colonies
there was a need for non-marginal fertile land that could be acquired easily. In fact
the colonial settlement was situated in thinly populated areas, perhaps because of
the development of urban settlements such as that known today as Doganella.14 Such
areas were therefore suitable for agricultural exploitation. This is thus a secondary,
mature phase of Romanization, involving the organization of territory following its
acquisition and military occupation.
5 The network of roads

Increased Roman control of former Etruscan territory determined the development
of a significant network of roads that was built between the second half of the third
and the second centuries. The most important of all had to be the Via Aurelia (called
vetus to distinguish it from the later one called nova). Its construction is usually attrib-
uted, albeit without definite proof, to L. Aurelius Cotta on the occasion of his censor-
13 Laffi 2001.
14 Carandini 1985.

674 Arnaldo Marcone
ship in 241. This was the first axial road constructed along the coast of Etruria that
obviously functioned to control territory, as it avoided—and thus marginalized—the
ancient Etruscan centers. One of the purposes of a road with these features had to
be to permit rapid travel by the armies in anticipation of military operations toward
the north and, in particular, against the Ligurians. It is uncertain whether its initial
layout reached as far as Pisa. As for Saturnia, its placement toward the interior made
the simultaneous creation of a road network that put it in rapid communication with
the coast absolutely necessary.
It is above all the Via Clodia, in a way the “most interesting road in the region,”15
that discloses an essential function of connecting road. Built between the Via Cassia
and the Via Aurelia, at a date probably close to that of the founding of Saturnia, in
either 171 or 154, it was never one of the principal roads to northern Etruria or beyond.
While the two major roads were planned principally as axial roads for long-distance
travel and thus avoid localities close to their route, the Via Clodia connects Rome
with places in southern Etruria. Thus, its purpose was primarily commercial. The side
roads that connect with the sea branched off from it. At Heba it constitutes the princi-
pal decuman of the colony. This sort of arterial road has implications that go beyond
the mere control of territory. A road like the Via Clodia, without clear military aims
and with commercial purposes, on the one hand presupposes permanent settlement
with intense exploitation of the resources of the territory and, on the other, has major
consequences for the local populations. Romanization can therefore be considered an
indirect outcome of pacification and political reorganization.
6 Northern Etruria
We turn now to the relationships between Rome and the cities of northern Etruria,
which lie more in the interior of the region. The case of Arretium (Arezzo) is reveal-
ing: the modern city rises on the same spot as the Etruscan and Roman ones, but the
name that is preserved, of uncertain etymology, is the Latin one. Its Etruscan name
is unknown. The siting of the city has no other advantage than location at the junc-
tion of natural connections in many directions and with the Apennine passes. The
Arretine plain and the Chiana Valley immediately to the south are naturally devoted
to agriculture, and the grain production and viticulture of these areas were already
appreciated in antiquity. The relations of Arretium with Rome from the beginning
were formulated in terms of substantial cooperation after a brief phase of confron-
tation. Already in 311 the Arretines are the only ones who do not participate in the
war against Rome promoted by the peoples of Etruria. From Livy we know that at the
15 Harris 1971, 167.

37 Romanization 675
beginning of the third century, after suffering a defeat, Arretium together with other
Etruscan cities undertook to furnish Rome with clothing and wheat to be able to nego-
tiate a forty-year truce. A series of indications indirectly suggest that the occasions of
confrontation reflect questions of internal social conflict. The dominant aristocratic
government in Arretium was interested in maintaining good relations with Rome
while most of the population was anti-Roman.16 In any event, beginning in the middle
of the third century, Arretium appears to be linked with Rome by a treaty of alliance.
Still more significant is the role of the city in the decisive years of the Second Punic
War. Despite Hannibal’s presence in the region, the Arretines did not temper their atti-
tude of loyalty toward Rome. In the record of the contributions of various Etruscan cities
to the expedition of Publius Cornelius Scipio against Hannibal in Africa in 205, the role
of Arretium appears particularly important: besides arms, it furnished in fact 120,000
modii of wheat, the provisioning for commanders and oarsmen during the voyage, and
moreover a considerable variety of farming tools (Livy 28.45.16–17). The territory of Arre-
tium seems to have been untouched by land distribution in the period of the Gracchi.
Therefore, when Arretium was transformed into a municipium and became part of the
Roman State in 90 and its citizens acquired full citizenship, an era of peaceful involve-
ment of the Etruscan city in Rome’s sphere of interest reached its logical conclusion.
Let us consider how after the Second Punic War there are no known Roman colo-
nies in Etruscan territory, with the sole exceptions being Lucca (Latin colony founded
around 178) and Luni (Roman colony founded in 177), which were founded moreo-
ver in rather marginal areas. Saturnia, included by the grammarian Festus in a list
of prefectures,17 which probably presupposes a level with precedence over colony,
appears to be a special case. The same considerations also hold for the colony of
Heba. If this is the case, then we must assess very carefully how significant was the
process of Romanization in the Etruscan area. Before Sulla, the only settlement of
Roman citizens in the region is that of Statonia, a place identified today with the site
of Pianmiano near Bomarzo.18 The date of founding is also uncertain. The fact that
Vitruvius mentions it as a prefecture leaves open the possibility that this area was
populated by colonists with allocations obtained by individual title. In this case we
must imagine a broad swath of territory between the lower Albegna Valley and Lake
Bolsena as the object of a Roman settlement process on a vast scale. This is a choice
that clearly goes beyond military territorial control pure and simple. But “Romaniza-
tion,” however it is understood, even simply as the assimilation of Roman customs by
the local population, was part of a policy of economic exploitation. The complicated
work of road organization, as mentioned, must be considered an essential feature of
this policy which enhanced the value of areas, such as the Albegna Valley, that can
16 Camporeale 2009.
17 Festus, p. 262 Lindsay s.v. praefecturae; Carandini and Cambi 2002.
18 Stanco 1994.

676 Arnaldo Marcone
be cultivated profitably and that were lightly populated. This cannot be so if the fora
known for Etruria are all located along the main roads, the Via Aurelia, the Via Clodia,
and the Via Cassia.
7 The organization of the territory

The founding of Cosa seems to be highly indicative of the two successive phases of
Roman presence in Etruria. Founded as a sort of advance emplacement, perhaps at
first in anticipation of successive offensive projections and then with the immediate
military purpose of territorial control—a similar situation to that of Aquileia a little
less than a century later, with the colonial supplementation characteristic of many
Latin colonies that underwent two successive phases of population—it seems to have
served various purposes from the beginning. At this point Rome seems interested in
choices of the economic type that were conveyed in more sizable colonial founda-
tions. If the Latin type colony was about to be abandoned, those under Roman law
were numerically important and began to be founded in the interior as well.
Let us add that one of the main consequences of the Second Punic War, of “Han-
nibal’s legacy,” which was fought in large part in central-southern Italy, was a demo-
graphic decline that affected not only Rome but several areas of the peninsula as well.
While between the late monarchy and the early republican state the colonies had been
thought of as a sort of solution for problems of population increase and the difficulty in
supporting it, in the first decades of the second century Rome found itself needing to
motivate new colonists to leave the capital with various economic incentives and legal
protection. This explains, for example, the recourse to individual allocations of land.
It is possible that the new settlers, who were frequently placed in poorly populated
areas, would have tried to include the scattered local populations. These local popula-
tions would have become aware of the organizational superiority of the ruling power,
which was capable of implementing good ways of life and of bringing with them wealth
and efficient administration. It might be argued that a colony would have deprived the
indigenous population of territory and that therefore its founding would have provoked
resentment and conflict, but this is an argument that does not find support in our liter-
ary sources.
In Etruria, we do not have proof of a Roman punitive policy toward the local com-
munity. During the Second Punic War, the ruling classes in Rome, who were con-
templating the prospect of overseas expansionism with the possibility of booty on a
scale unimaginable in Italy, seem to have developed a preference for choices in which
economic considerations appear to be decisive. It was a question of the consequences
for cultural identity of military success and the pacification that followed.
This sort of reality provides an understanding of how the Romanization of Arre-
tium, mutatis mutandis in other places in northern Etruria as well, such as Volterra,

37 Romanization 677
proceeded in a regular way, without breaches. A significant example accrues to the

most famous figure in the history of Roman Arretium, namely Gaius Cilnius Maece-
nas, a minister of Augustus, who was a friend of Horace and a prominent figure in the
cultural life of the late first century BCE. Maecenas was a member of the equestrian
order but belonged to an aristocratic family. He had been a loyal legate of Caesar with
a particularly close relationship to Octavian, which guaranteed solid ties of coopera-
tion with the Roman government of his family.19
8 The progress of Romanization

With regard to Roman expansionism in central Italy, Umbria presents an obvious
comparison. Roman contacts intensified with Umbria during the conquest of the
region that took place at approximately the same period as the definitive submis-
sion of Etruria (ca. 310–266). During the third century, Umbria saw the settlement
of an estimated 40,000 colonists, which would imply that approximately a third of
the population would have had Roman or Latin status.20 So massive a presence of
new residents inevitably entailed profound territorial reorganization: the lands taken
from the Umbrian community would have to be centuriated. The very construction of
an axial road of the importance of the Via Flaminia, built in 220, reflects the need to
guarantee rapid access for long-distance traffic. Other roads, such as the Via Amerina,
built in 240, which linked Ameria with Falerii Novi and Rome, served to facilitate local
communication.
With respect to Romanization, it must always be kept in mind both that Umbrian
material culture was never a particularly evident phenomenon and that the produc-
tion of manufactured goods was always dependent on external factors. Before the
Roman conquest, it was above all Etruria that exercised great influence over Umbria,
in particular Volsinii. And the earliest Umbrian inscriptions, from the fourth and third
centuries, used the Etruscan alphabet of Volsinii and Perusia (Perugia). This relative
cultural weakness of the Umbrian world justifies the assumption that in this region
the process of Romanization was faster than in Etruria.21 This premise has been tested
a number of times that have resulted in refining the question and placing the accent
on other critical points. The diffusion of the Latin language and alphabet between
the conquest and the Social War constitutes the most obvious indicator of Romaniza-
19 Porena 2010.
20 Bradley 2000.
21 Harris 1971.

678 Arnaldo Marcone
tion. It is assumed that the use of Latin was the rule in the area populated by Romans
and Latins, particularly in the central-southern part of the relevant region of viritane
distribution. It is true that those very epigraphic habits in Umbria presuppose the
adoption of an external model, first Etruscan and then Roman, that caused the rapid
acquisition of the alphabet and the language. The Iguvine Tablets are also consistent
with this reconstruction (if it is true, as is generally held, that the part written in the
Umbrian alphabet goes back to the beginning of the second century and that written
in the Latin alphabet to the end).
The Iguvine Tablets themselves provide confirmation of what might summarily
be considered an aspect of Romanization on an institutional level. The word kvestur
appears in them twice, as well as the related kvestretie. And if, as seems possible,
kvestur simply designates a position in a religious brotherhood and not a magis-
trate with jurisdictional responsibilities, it is highly probable that the word came to
Iguvium (Gubbio) from Rome. It would thus be an Umbrian lexeme calqued on Latin
quaestor, a phenomenon that can be explained as a sort of spontaneous adjustment
to the constitutional structure of Rome.22 Without parallel documentation or sure
data, the hypothesis remains plausible that at a certain point in Iguvium it was used
within a religious community, borrowing a term from Rome perhaps with the aim
of ennobling its own traditions. In other words, this could be seen as an example
of so-called “Selbst-Romanisierung” (“autoromanization”), implying knowledge and
implicit acceptance of the internal organization of the ruling power. It also remains
true that most of the words on the Iguvine Tablets apparently have neither an Etrus-
can nor a Roman origin.
9 The regional differences

Our evaluation of the process of Romanization of Etruria received a special impulse
from the results of the survey conducted in the Cecina Valley. The data collected dem-
onstrate how Etruscan social and economic structures that had previously expanded
here had been assimilated untraumatically into the new Roman reality. This process
can be traced back to the role played by the local aristocracies in promoting Romani-
zation. The very absence of villas, sporadic remains of which can be traced only along
the coast, can serve as an indication of a process of continuity and of maintenance
of traditional forms of agrarian exploitation. It remains difficult to establish the legal
condition of the families who inhabited the farms of the area.23 Nor does the presence
22 Sisani 2009.
23 Camin and McCall 2002.

37 Romanization 679
of a major urban center like Volterra seem to have been a factor in drastic Romaniza-
tion, at least in the surrounding countryside.
As in similar cases, Romanization had clearly interested the city, which obtained
Roman citizenship with the Lex Julia of 90 BCE. Volterra, in reality, seems to have
enjoyed the status of civitas foederata at least from the end of the third century, when
it contributed to the African expedition of Scipio Africanus. And in the same city it
makes sense to evaluate elements that signal a composite reality, in which some emu-
lative behaviors are proper only to the elite and not to the entire body politic.24
Here we may ask how representative this case would be with respect to the
process of integration of Italy into Roman rule. What seems certain is that in this
situation both the Romans and the local ruling classeshad to work towards a mutual
understanding through realistic forms of cooperation. Naturally it is also legitimate
to wonder whether the peculiarity of the situation of Volterra, whose conservatism
is evidenced in the countryside, was not due to its frankly peripheral location and
to limitation of interest on the part of the Romans to the intensive exploitation of
the territory. But in any case a reasonable hypothesis is that there were areas in the
now-Romanized territory in which traditional Etruscan social relations continued to
be valid.
It is attractive to think that the text known as the “Prophecy of Vegoia,” which is
usually dated to the time of the Social War (91–88 BCE), continued to have value in a
society in which the traditional social order was considered immutable and left out of
consideration by the general political organization. It includes complicated references
to cosmogonic myths connected to forms of agrarian management and to property
boundaries. Cicero himself, advocating on behalf of the Volterrans in the matter of
the danger of the confiscation of their territory, makes reference to the centuries-long
stability of their forms of property. As consul in 63, Cicero boasted of having prevented
the alienation of the confiscated Volterran lands and the ruin of the proprietors that
held them, thanks to his opposition to the agrarian laws proposed by the tribune Ser-
vilius Rullus. The danger represented by the conquest and its consequences could
have persuaded the more conservative representatives into a pronounced reversion,
with religious connotations as well, to the traditional values of the society.25
This speech took on very special value with respect to the convulsive years of
the Social War and its outcome. Northern Etruria during the war remained primar-
ily neutral. Nonetheless, immediately afterward, Volterra sided with Marius, like
many other cities in the region. This provoked the ire of Sulla, who harshly punished
anyone who had been linked with the Marians. Volterra was besieged in 80 and after
24 Terrenato 1998.
25 Valvo 1994.

680 Arnaldo Marcone
the defeat, suffered a limitation on rights of citizenship and loss of part of its terri-
tory, although it does not seem that the provision was really carried out. Neither were
the proposals advanced in the following decades to proceed with land allocations. In
45 BCE, Caesar’s attempt to settle his own veterans seems not to have had dramatic
consequences for the city’s territory (the possibility has been raised that groups of
Etruscans from northern Etruria fled to Africa).26
In that case, we may ask what strategies, what political choices were offered to
the Volterrans to protect their own social organization from the devastations that had
threatened it? It is likely that in the city, the elite were able to play a role of mediation
with the Roman power: in this sense the role of the Cecina family at the head of Volter-
ran society seems to have been taken as emblematic of the role of the native aristoc-
racy in guiding their community in periods of delicate transformation as well. The rule
of Augustus signals a notable level of cooperation between aristocracies of northern
Etruria and Rome, which has in the Arretine Maecenas its most representative figure.
It is not possible to fix with certainty the moment in which Volterra acquired the title
of Colonia (Julia?) Augusta.27 It is possible that the conferring of the status of Colonia
Julia on Volterra was due neither to Octavian the triumvir nor to Octavian Augustus
after 27, but already to Caesar in 45 when he confiscated and distributed a part of the
Volterran countryside. It was, in any case, a colonization with characteristics neither
traumatic nor punitive, quite different from Sulla’s.28 The similarity of the fortunes of
Arretium and Volterra thus enables us to catch a glimpse of a Romanization process –
whatever that word is taken to mean – which was successful.
10 “Cultural bricolage”?
As for the phenomenon of Romanization in the latest period, the contribution
of studies of material culture merits greater attention in an increasing tendency
to appreciate the value of the single, individual case rather than a general, global
phenomenon. This approach has had particular success in the formulation, due to
Nicola Terrenato, of “cultural bricolage”.29 Terrenato defines “cultural bricolage”
as a process in which preexisting cultural elements assume various functions and
meanings in the new context represented by Roman rule. In this process there is not
a preordained model of Romanization in the sense that the local factors are a decisive
26 Colonna 1983; see chapter 88 Naso.

27 As proven by an inscription, AE 1994, 612: Munzi 1994.
28 Firpo 2009.
29 Terrenato 1998.

37 Romanization 681
component as much of the process as of its outcome. It is a way of attempting to avoid

the Augustan ideology of tota Italia that presupposes the result of a process lasting
several centuries that led to a substantial uniformization of settlement and economic
forms and, therefore, of identity. If so, it is an attempt to recover the complex mosaic
of pre-Roman Italy.30
The theme of Romanization is undoubtedly a central but problematic and dif-
ficult one for any scholar who works on Roman Italy or the Roman provinces. It is a
concept the nature of which is disputed; the fact that it is often approached from a
political and cultural angle makes it difficult to study it objectively.31 It is also a theme
that has to be regularly revisited, as every new generation of researchers strives to
arrive at a consistent definition and to create a methodology adequate for the study
of this form of cultural change. It is no accident that recent research has studied the
problem primarily from a regional perspective, and attempted to run synthetic and
comparative approaches side by side.32
Roman Ernst Roth has recently taken an original approach to the problem of
Romanization.33 Roth maintains that pottery can be used like a documentary source
for the social history of the ancient world, especially with reference to persons who
did not form part of the upper classes. In particular Roth examines the black-glazed
pottery of two sites in central Italy, Volterra and Capena, to demonstrate that the
apparent homogeneity of Roman Italy presupposed different responses to the process
of Romanization at elite and non-elite levels of Italic society. This project, which can
surely only be described as ‘cultural bricolage’, applies sociological theory to the
study of material remains for the purposes of social history and specifically to bring
into focus groups that are underrepresented in the documentary sources. In Roth’s
reconstruction, the diffusion of pottery of low quality is explained with reference to
a combination of innovation and tradition. This development implies the involve-
ment of broad social classes and an accompanying improvement in living conditions
overall.
Ultimately, recourse to the concept of Romanization appears to be justified
because, notwithstanding the connotations of colonialism with which it is associ-
ated, it is still the most value-free way of of illuminating the process in question.34
In any case, in the light of current research, it remains to be clarified how far the
process or result of Romanization was uniform; what role was played by members
30 Witcher 2006.
31 See, for example, the critical stand of Sisani 2002 with respect to Bradley 2000.
32 Keay and Terrenato 2001.
33 Roth 2007; cf. also the editorial in the inaugural number of the journal Facta in 2007.
34 Alföldy 2005.

682 Arnaldo Marcone
of the social elite; and the level of competition in the adoption of Roman practices,
military service not considered.35
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Stand der Erforschung von Integrationsprozessen im Römischen Weltreich.” In Limes XIX.
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Celuzza, M. “Etruschi e Romani tra 311 e il 123 a.C.” In Paesaggi d’Etruria. Valle dell’Albegna, valle
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Gabba, E. 1988 “Aspetti militari agrari.” DialArch 6: 19–22.
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Jehne, M. 2006. “Römer, Latiner und Bundesgenossen im Krieg: Zu Formen und Ausmass der
Integration in der republikanischen Armee.” In Herrschaft ohne Integration? Rom und Italien in
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Munzi, M. 1994. “La colonia di Volterra. La prima attestazione epigrafica ed il quadro storico e
archeologico.” Ostraka 3: 31–42.
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di sviluppo delle città nell’Etruria Meridionale. Veio, Caere, Tarquinia, Vulci. Atti del XXIII
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Witcher, R. 2006. “Settlement and Society in Early Imperial Etruria. ” JRS 96: 88–123.

Mario Torelli
38 The Etruscan Legacy
Abstract: From the 3rd cent. BC onwards the structure of Etruscan society was undergoing drastic
changes. The destabilization of the ancient social structure involved progressive decay of the national
culture through a process to which a variety of factors contributed. After the Roman conquest the glo-
rious Etruscan past was used to reach not only collective, but also familial ambitions. Finally etruscan
Disciplina become a powerful vehicle of the Etruscan legacy in the Roman world.
Keywords: romanization, Etruscan culture, disciplina Etrusca, Etruscan onomastic
1 Prologue: The disintegration of the social

organization of Etruria at the end of
the Roman republic
The Bellum Marsicum (the Social War, 91–88 BCE) took a very short time to disrupt
the entire structure of Italy that had been established nearly two centuries earlier on
the eve of the Punic War, a structure that had only marginally been modified a few
years later with the punishment inflicted on those socii Italici who had defected on
the occasion of Hannibal’s Italian adventure.1 Despite suffering the heavy impact
of the Roman imperialistic push at the beginning of the grand conquest of the pen-
insula, in the decades straddling the fourth and third centuries, when the cities of
southern Etruria suffered the loss of considerable portions of their territory, the Etrus-
cans in fact remained loyal to Rome both during the Second Punic War and through
the Social War. The results of this policy of loyalty led to the censors of 86 BCE, after
the outbreak of the war and the granting of Roman citizenship to the Italics, assign-
ing almost the entire community of Etruria to the “ethnic Etruscan” tribes, namely to
those tribes created on the right bank of the Tiber in the year 388 after the conquest
of Veii (Fig. 38.1).2 Aside from the “antiquarian” aspect of the operation, as if there
was a desire to foster the preservation of the territories once possessed by the indi-
vidual major cities, the choice shows a desire to grant to the Etruscans the privilege of
enrolling in tribes considered favorable by the limited number of citizens registered
in them.3
1 On the period in general Torelli 1981b, 251–78); for an overview of the period of the Roman conquest,
Harris 1971 is essential.
2 Torelli 1985, 45–48.
3 The mechanics of the allocations to the rural tribes are described in the classic work of Ross Taylor
1960.
686 Mario Torelli
Fig. 38.1: Distribution of the Roman rural tribes in Etruria
But appearances can be deceiving. In the two centuries before the granting of the
optimum ius, the structure of Etruscan society in the southern cities was undergo-
ing drastic changes. These began in the fourth century with the gradual passing of
a system of production relationships that was based on the control of land and on
the absolute economic and political domination of a limited governing oligarchy of

38 The Etruscan Legacy 687
principes over servitus (as the sources call the ancient form of dependency).4 During
the third century similar structural changes took place in the northern cities as well,
as a result of the integration—certainly in different ways from city to city5—of the
former servi, who would have received not only civil rights, but land grants. This
picture derives from the onomastics of the cities of Clusium and Perusia, for which
in his classic work on Etruscan cognomens Helmut Rix reconstructed the process of
enfranchisement of the servi on the basis of the phenomenon known as the Vorna-
mengentile.6 The social ascent of these former servi is documented by many signs,
both archaeological and epigraphic. The clearest archaeological evidence consists of
the tomb of the Cutu at Perugia, built by Arnth Cai Cutu. He easily identifiable as a
former servus by his Vornamengentile Cai (later generations, to conceal his humble
origins, preferred to use his cognomen Cutu as their family name); for his own urn
Arnth Cai Cutu used the same workshop that had furnished urns for the aristocratic
Tomb of the Volumnii.7 As for the epigraphy, the most significant text is the Tabula
Cortonensis, a transcription on bronze of the proceedings of a land sale between the
noble family of the Cusu and Petru Scêvas, a man of servile origins (Fig. 38.2).8 Petru
Scêvas sold good lands near the Trasimeno for a rather modest price; his true reward
was his family’s improved social status by his daughter’s marriage to a member of the
Cusu gens, documented by the inscription of the latter9 on an urn placed in the pres-
tigious Hellenistic tomb of the Cusu at Cortona, known as the “Tanella di Pitagora.”10
The destabilization of the ancient social structure involved progressive decay
of the national culture through a process to which a variety of factors contributed.
Most important is the loss of the social certainties that had characterized the period
of growth from the eighth century to the sixth. An attentive reading of the contem-
porary culture shows how little survived of the culture of the elite, which had been
embellished in the preceding centuries by the early aristocracy, especially under the
influence of the culture of the Greeks. Also contributing to the erosion of traditional
culture were sizable numbers of people who had originated as slaves, quite aside from
4 Torelli 1981b, 71–83; more recently, Torelli 2015, using epigraphic and archaeological evidence from
the sanctuary of Gravisca, has reconstructed the end of the servitus at Tarquinia in the late 5th century
BCE. An articulated picture of Clusium society during the era of Romanization has been drawn by
Benelli 2009.
5 According to Rix 1963, at Chiusi the ex-servi did not possess the conubium, which conversely
was granted to their equivalents at Perusia (and Cortona, as we can now say in view of the Tabula
Cortonensis: Scarano Ussani and Torelli 2002); as for the grant to ex-servi of the ius honorum, we
cannot affirm or deny that this took place, keeping in mind that it is quite likely that the right was
presumably granted to them in different ways and times.
6 Rix 1963.
7 Feruglio 2002.
8 Scarano Ussani and Torelli 2002.
9 ET Co 1.5 = TLE 634.
10 Torelli 2004–5.

688 Mario Torelli
Fig. 38.2: The Tabula Cortonensis (after Nicosia-Agostiniani 2000, pl. 8)

Fig. 38.3: Inscription mentioning C. Genucius

Clepsina in the underground building at Caere
(after Torelli 2000, fig. 14)
those provoked by the socioeconomic pressure exercised on a grand scale by Rome

with its rapid development of the second century slave economy.11 This economy sub-
stantially bypassed Etruria, as is shown by the fact that among the nomina of the Italic
mercatores of Delos, not even one reveals Etruscan origins.12
The cultural and political decline of the principes was accompanied by a thinning
of the number of gentes that formed the nobilitas of the Etruscan cities. The demo-
graphic decline and the cancer of oliganthropia—the shortage of men—which invari-
ably characterizes oligarchic societies, drastically reduced the ranks of the local aris-
tocratic elite, not to mention the fact that some of these gentes had emigrated early
to Rome, a phenomenon of limited extent and largely confined to the period between
the late fourth and early third centuries. This was the moment of maximum open-
ness for the Roman nobilitas, when some aristocratic Etruscan families succeeded in
entering into the ruling classes of Rome.13 The attested cases are those of the Perusine
L.Volumnius Flamma Violens cos. 307, II 296, who traced his origins to the Perusine
Velimnas;14 the two brothers C. Genucius Clepsina cos. I 276, II 270 and L. Genucius
Clepsina cos. 271, descendants of the Tarquinian family of the Clevsinas, who entered
the Roman nobilitas thanks to an alliance by marriage with the plebeian Genucii
(Fig. 38.3); and another pair of brothers, Q. Ogulnius Gallus cos. 269 and Cn. Ogulnius
tr. pl. 300, originally from Volsinii, where one Uclnas is apparently paired as a mag-
istrate (or haruspex) with a member of the local aristocratic family the Hesc(a)nas15.
But the most relevant phenomenon of cultural interference took place in the terri-
tories of Etruscan cities. The presence of colonies under either Latin or Roman law, and
especially with large numbers of Roman citizens viritim in the territories confiscated
from the Etruscan cities after their submission, was highly disruptive. Here the viritane
colonists, organized both in fora and in prefectures, lived shoulder to shoulder with the
original inhabitants of the city. Added in as well was the continuous infiltration of Latin
elements within many formally independent Etruscan cities, who entered very diverse
social positions alongside them. Well documented is the presence in Etruscan cities
of families of certain Roman origin, who even possessed family tombs in the heart of
Etruscan cities. One such example is the Clavtie family, who owned a late fourth century
11 Torelli 1981b; more generally for the slave economy of Rome in Italy in the second–first centuries
BCE, see Schiavone and Giardina 1981.
12 Torelli 1970–71; Solin 1982; Zalesskij 1982 with prior bibliography.
13 (Partial) list of Etruscans who received citizenship before the Social War in Harris 1971, 319–28.
14 Reconstruction of the Perusian branch of the family tree in Colonna 2011.
15 CIE 5167 = TLE2 204 = ET Vs 0.23.

690 Mario Torelli
Fig. 38.4: Inscription in the family tomb

of the Clavtie at Caere (after StEtr 37, 1969, p. 320)
hypogeum at Caere (Fig. 38.4). A member of the family was married to another Latin
woman named Luvcili, Etruscanized forms of the genuine Latin nomina Claudius and
Lucilius.16 There were also some individuals who were not necessarily residents, but
who were active on the social level, such as the probable mercator T. Gavio(s) C. f.,17
who dedicated in Latin a vase in the merchant sanctuary of Gravisca, port of Tarquinia,
shortly before the Roman conquest of 281 (Fig. 38.5).
The social composition of the Etruscan city between the submission and entry
into Roman citizenship thus underwent profound changes. From a recent investiga-
tion of the onomastics of Tarquinia,18 it was possible to demonstrate that of the forty-
16 Morandi Tarabella 2004, 132–35.

17 CIL I(2) 3903 d.
18 Torelli 2012.

Fig. 38.5: Graffito from Gravisca mentioning

T.Gavio(s) C.f. (after Valentini 1993, pl. 47)
five Etruscan nomina of Tarquinian origin documented on cippi, which are considered
the typical expression of the middle classes from the third to first centuries, thirty
(or 75 percent) originated from freedmen or clients of families of the nobilitas of the
fourth–third centuries. This seems to demonstrate the weight exercised on the social
body of the families of the nobilitas after the submission to Rome, a period repre-
sented precisely by the cippi. But by all evidence this is a phenomenon that is primar-
ily, if not exclusively, onomastic and not social in nature. The modesty of the cippi
contrasts strongly with the forms of self-representation (painted tombs, monumental
sarcophagi), that distinguished nobiles of the fourth and third centuries and whose
nomen are handed down on these cippi.
The epigraphic and archaeological materials from Tarquinia appear to be unique
in many respects. If we had equally rich diagnostic documentation on the demo-
graphic level for other Etruscan cities, especially in the south, we would observe that
this rapid disappearance of the aristocratic classes affects all of Etruria, a phenom-
enon that occurred first in the south. All this speaks to a large-scale turnover among
the classes, with the emergence of groups linked to the local nobilitas only through
onomastics—descendants of freedmen, clientes, or assimilated relatives ones—at the
beginning of a huge turnover between the outstanding gentes of the local society,
which very closely resembles the turnover brought to light by Keith Hopkins for the
ruling Roman-republican groups.19 In other words, the ruling classes of the Etruscan
poleis between the third and second centuries appear to be the victims of an impover-
ishment that was demographic but also economic, social, and cultural. This impov-
erishment, which emerged visibly and macroscopically—both in the increasingly
meager works of public or sacred building and in the evermore mediocre standard of
19 Hopkins 1983.

692 Mario Torelli
everyday production by craftsmen—in the case of the major arts, is proof of the disap-
pearance of a large artisan upper class.20
After the transformation of the population that took place in the wake of the sub-
mission, the second moment of profound transformation in the socioeconomic reality
of the Etruscan cities coincides with the period that precedes and accompanies the
turbulent Gracchian period. The beginning of the transformations can be perceived
in the decades before the mid second century. First, new colonies (civium Romano-
rum) were founded in various territories that had been conquered,21 like Saturnia,
founded in 183 in the former Vulcian area, and Gravisca, created in 181 in the old port
of Tarquinia. Then, again in the former Vulcian territory, the old prefecture of Heba
was transformed into a colony (Statonia would have survived as a praefectura; Vitr.
De arch. 2.7.3).
A few decades later, according to Plutarch (Ti.Gracch. 8), Tiberius Gracchus
would have been moved to promote his agrarian reforms in view of the fields of
Etruria that had become “populated by barbarians and slaves.” Even though it has
been repeatedly denied, the presence of Gracchian colonization22 can be postulated
both in Tarquinia23 and in Vulci24 on the basis of both written and archaeological
indications; crucial indications come above all from onomastic data. The conclusion
of this period25 coincides with the unimaginable violence of the Civil War between
Marius and Sulla and with the wars that emerged relating to the clashes between the
various factions of the first and second triumvirates.
Etruria, which had been smoothly granted the citizenship optimo iure, was
severely disrupted by banishments, private vendettas, and vast land distributions. We
have literary and political echoes of these, from the so-called “Prophecy of the Nymph
Vegoia,”26 to the turbulence triggered by the possessores Sullani27 in the unstable
climate in the countryside, which was infested with bandits and landowners’ armed
militias.28 Signs of this social turbulence come to us from evidence that attests emi-
grations of Etruscans from their lands. One example is the girl who died in Egypt and
20 Torelli 1983; Torelli 2011a.

21 Harris 1971, 148–52.
22 Harris 1971, 202–5; Torelli 1981a.
23 Torelli 2012.
24 Torelli 1999b.
25 See most recently the essays in Aigner Foresti 1998.
26 The literature on the topic is endless (bibliography in Valvo 1988; but see also Harris 1971, 31–40):
the problem of the dating of the fragment (which we believe belongs to the Corpus of Gromatici),
which speaks of the completion of the last saeculum which the Etruscans assigned to the life of their
own people, becomes further complicated by the uncertainties around the calculation of the length
of the Etruscan saecula.
27 Harris 1971, 271–98.
28 This is the climate of the countryside of Tarquinia described by Cicero in the speech Pro Caecina
(Frier 1983).

Fig. 38.6: Boundary stone with Etruscan inscription

from Wadi Milian, Tunisia (after Heurgon 1969b, fig. 3)
was wrapped in bands taken from the well-known liber linteus of Zagreb, a sacred cal-
endar apparently written in the area of Perusia.29 Another is the boundary stones with
Etruscan writing marking divisions of fields in the valley of the Wadi Milian in Tunisia
that belong to a community defining itself as “Dardani” (Etr. Tartanium). This com-
munity was led by Marce Unata Zutas, perhaps a former slave, as seems to be deduced
from the possible Vornamengentile derived from the Greek Onatas (Fig. 38.6).30
Only Perusia would remain unscathed by the violent transformations during
these years, which occurred in every central-northern Etrurian city that had followed
the Marianae partes. Even its fate was sealed, however, with the massacre of the local
ruling classes, who were defeated in 40 BCE after Octavian’s intense siege of the city,
29 See most recently Belfiore 2010.

30 For Heurgon 1969b, relying on App. B Civ. 92.426, he was a follower of the Marian consul Cn.
Papirius Carbo in Africa in 82, while for Sordi 1991 it is a matter of agrarian allocations among veterans
by Marius, whose activities in Africa not only included the foundation of colonies labeled Marianae,
such as Uchi Maius (ILS 1334) and Thibaris (ILS 6790), but also the distribution of lands to his own
veterans ([Aur.Vict.] De vir. ill. 73): Sordi’s thesis seems more plausible than that of the French scholar.

694 Mario Torelli
where the triumvir’s brother L. Antonius and his wife Fulvia had sought refuge.31 The
picture of the destruction of old Etruria appears complete to us. In nearly every old
North-Etruscan capital, we know of first century colonists—from Sulla’s (documented
at Arretium, Volaterrae, Faesulae, and Clusium),32 to the triumvir’s and Augustus’s
(known at Perusia, Rusellae, again at Volaterrae,33 and Arretium); we do not hear of
the triumvirs’ colonists in Populonia, Tarquinia, Cortona, or Caere. We are therefore
able to conclude that at the end of the Civil War very little had survived of that most
ancient ethnos, which, according to Cato,34 had controlled all of Italy. To judge by
the epigraphic evidence of the Etruscan language in the private, funerary sphere—it
is in fact unthinkable that it could have been used publicly in a Roman political or
legal context—it ceased to be used during the first century,35 even though, as Santo
Mazzarino has shown,36 scraps of the ancient population must have existed, frag-
mented in the countryside, tenaciously sticking to the language and customs of the
past, traces of which are still revealed in the agricultural lexicon preserved in the
modern Tuscan dialect.37
2 The legitimizing past: Collective ambitions

The extreme exiguity—we might even say absence—of traces of an authentic Etrus-
can aristocracy that could legitimately claim origins in the nobilitas of the fourth–
third centuries is confirmed by the reduced number of recognizably Etruscan citizens
who had access to the Roman senate from the last century of the republic to the first
of the empire, and in the even more limited number of those who reached the con-
sulship, mostly in the first century.38 After the success of the Clevsina family in the
middle republican period, the first consul whose origin was certainly Tarquinian was
L. Caesennius Sospes cos. ord. in 61 CE. In other words, the true heritage, transmitted
from Etruscan principes to real or supposed descendants who bore the names of those
principes, was not the blood, but every Etrurian city’s glorious past, including those
31 Sordi 1972; 1985.

32 Harris 1971, 251–71.
33 Munzi and Terrenato 1994.
34 Cato fr. 62 P; cf. Livy 1.2, 5.33.
35 The resistance was stronger in the northern cities, judging by the inscriptions; in general, on the
problem of the survival of the Etruscan language once again Harris 1971, 169–87 remains valid, to
which should be added Hadas-Lebel 1998.
36 Mazzarino 1957; the general matter of the Romanization of Etruria is discussed by Mansuelli 1988.
37 And perhaps not only in that sphere, if e.g. the popular hypothesis is true that the Italian word
mattone “brick,” of unknown etymology, is an Etruscan relic: Bolelli 1989, s.v. Mattone.
38 The data are set forth in Torelli 1969 and 1982.

repopulated in various Augustan colonial foundations39 or even those newly founded

by Augustus himself, as in the case of Veii. Here, after the city abiit in villas40 in the
second century BCE, the princeps reconstructed an urban simulacrum, the municip-
ium Augustum Veiens.41
Even though they had been semi-depopulated or repopulated by Roman colo-
nists, the cities of Etruria boasted great temples of antiquity, all of them still tow-
ering over the plazas, as at Tarquinia, Vulci, or Rusellae;42 or on acropolises, as at
Populonia, Perusia, or Volaterrae.43 Those sacred edifices, sometimes restored even
in the imperial age, were destined to survive until late antiquity. Each, by its very
physical presence, would recall its extraordinarily glorious past, which was spoken of
moreover by the ancient writers. This is what made the difference between the cities
of Etruria and those of the rest of Italy, many of which had only become truly “urban”
very recently, and none of which were in a position to boast a centuries-old history.
The very narration of these historic events or the description of ancient religious
customs since the first half of the second century had, on the consolidated Hellenistic
models, given rise to a robust antiquarian literature on the Etruscan historical and
mythic story. This literature, which had fomented Etruria’s national pride, interested
intellectuals of various Italic origins who were active at Rome, such as Marcus Porcius
Cato from Tusculum44 and Cassius Hemina, very likely of Etruscan origin.45 It also
interested Etruscan men of letters who wrote local histories, such as Caecina from
Volaterrae.46 As has been brought to light by Domenico Musti,47 who analyzes the
late republican historiographical debate on archaic Rome, we can even find historical
reconstructions of philo-Etruscan and philo-Hellenic attitudes, which had the clear
intent of interfering in contemporary politics. Marta Sordi has insisted instead on the
connection between the myth of Troy and Rome’s Etruscan heritage.48
During Augustus’s reign, according to the ancient Roman and Italic scholars
Verrius Flaccus and Hyginus, the same antiquarian climate that had come into exist-
ence in the late republic and whose peak is occupied without peer by Varro, appears
39 Keppie 1983; 1984.

40 Pliny’s famous phrase (HN 3.70) describing the fate of the Campanian city of Stabia.
41 Ward Perkins 1961, 57–75; Liverani 1987.
42 Tarquinia: Bonghi Jovino 2009, with previous literature; Vulci: Sgubini Moretti 2011, 164, with
previous literature; Rusellae: P. B(occi) P(acini), in Nicosia and Poggesi 1998, 92–94.
43 Populonia: Gualandi and Mascione 2004; Perusia: Torelli 2011c, 86; Volaterrae: Bonamici 2011,
with previous literature.
44 Leo 1913, 291–94.
45 See the collection of fragments by Santini 1995.
46 Cited both by Servius (Aen. 10.200; Serv. Dan. 10.198) and by Verrius Flaccus, who was in turn
author of res Etruscae: Torelli 1975, 146 n. 1.
47 Musti 1970; 1981.
48 Sordi 1960; 1989a.

696 Mario Torelli
Fig. 38.7: Latin inscription mentioning Tarchon (after Torelli 1975, pl. 19)
firmly inculcated in the imperial household. Through the capillary diffusion of the
imperial cult, it came to constitute further stimulus for the Etruscan cities toward
recovery of myths and local histories for the purpose of self-promotion. During the
Julio-Claudian period it led the most eminent of the few Etruscan cities (namely
Tarquinia, Caere, Volsini, which during the second–first centuries had remained
unharmed or were no more than brushed by the drastic settlements of colonists—
apart from the Gracchian ones) to exalt their own past, erecting monuments intended
to celebrate those ancient glories. This particular aspect of the intertwining of impe-
rial propaganda and the newly minted heritage of the most recent Roman coloniza-
tions emerges from the differences between Tarquinia and Arretium. Tarquinia was
the heart of this widespread climate of Etruscan nostalgia. It not only revived the title
of civitas foederata as a remembrance of the independent past and of the ancient
foedus drawn up with Rome in 281, but became the theater, around the old main city
temple popularly known in modern times as “Ara della Regina,” of a great production
on the past glories of the city and its families. In contrast, at Arretium, which was
home to Arretini Veteres, Arretini Fidentiores, and Arretini Iulienses—the old citizens
of Etruscan Arretium, the Sullan colonists, and the Augustan colonists49—as attested
by the list in Pliny (HN 3.52), the past, as far as we can tell, was seen only as that of
Rome. This is documented both by the altar with the Lupercal50 and by the small-
scale “copies” of the Roman elogia of the Forum of Augustus.51
Tarquinia erected a statue of the founder Tarchon, with an inscription of at least
four lines, of which unfortunately only a small scrap survives. The first line contains
the name and filiation of the hero, [Tar]cho[n Tyrrheni f.], the second and third contain
the memoir of the rule of the hero as founder of Etruria and of the city, while the
fourth line was perhaps the record of the initial Etruscan expansion into Campania
with the unknown city named Hama (Fig. 38.7).52
49 Also recorded in the Liber Coloniarum (215.3 L).

50 Bocci Pacini and Nocentini Sbolci 1983, 31–33 n. 42.
51 II 13.2, 78–84; these are, as is well known, not exact copies.
52 Heurgon 1969a; Torelli 1975, 142–46; Colonna 1987.

Fig. 38.8: Roman relief from Caere, so called Throne of Claudius (after Fuchs 1989, p. 54)
Still more substantial evidence of the importance possessed in the imperial present
by the memory of ancient glories is found in the so-called “throne of Claudius,”
an illustrated monument found in a dump close to the theater of Caere together
with a group of imperial statues with related inscriptions, pertaining to a local Cae-
sareum.53 Only a single fragment of this monument has survived, from which we
find it hard to reconstruct its appearance with any certainty (Fig. 38.8).54 The term
“throne,” which is hardly consistent with the typology of such objects, was coined
in an attempt to connect it with a colossal seated figure of the divinized Claudius
found in the same context. The fragment of this unique monument consists of a
heavy carved rectangular slab of marble, which on the front depicts the personifica-
tions of three Etruscan populi labeled with their names. On the wide outer border
appears a vegetal motif of acanthus, while on the back, only partly worked, is the
figure of a pig standing on a base in the form of an altar, behind which is a tree. This
last scene has been described as a depiction of sacrifice, which is a trivialization, as
53 Fuchs 1989.
54 Torelli 1985, 39–48; Fuchs 1989, 53–54 n. 1.

698 Mario Torelli
the figure of an animal standing on a base is not at all consistent with a reasonable
depiction of a sacrificial ritual. Instead, considering the presence of the tree, it may
allude to a monument representing a local or national foundation myth, similar to
that which arose around the legend of the Trojan origins of the Latins, based on the
sow of Laurentum. The long carved side, broken toward the left, shows from left
to right the personifications of the Vetulonenses, [Vo]lcentani, and Tarquinienses,
of the populi of Vetulonia, Vulci and Tarquinia. The first is a heroic nude figure
provided with an oar within a niche, whose left side shows a tree forming a wing;
the second is a veiled goddess seated on the inscribed base holding a bird in her
right hand; the third, also on an inscribed base, shows a man in a toga standing
velato capite. These represent, patently, the founding hero of Vetulonia, the main
goddess of Vulci and Tarchon, and the founder of Tarquinia. The main difficulty for
the reconstruction of the monument is the obscure sequence of personifications,
which according to Paolo Liverani is alphabetical, albeit not perfectly.55 The his-
torical significance of the Caere relief, stylistically datable to the Julian-Claudian
period, but not securely specifiable to the reign of Claudius, leads us to consider
another important operation in the Etruscan “revival” of the Imperial period. The
monument to which the slab belongs has generally been considered the proof that
Claudius, in his moral reform work undertaken in connection with the censorship
of 47 CE, had reinstituted the league of the duodecim populi that the Etruscans had
created around the Fanum Voltumnae apud Volsinios and that, according to wide-
spread modern opinion, would have been disbanded after the conquest of Volsinii
in 265 BCE (Fig. 38.9).
There are extremely scarce sources on the activity of these assemblies, which
have been much discussed.56 For the period of autonomy, the arguments essentially
concern the degree of political and military union of the league, which is normally
considered quite meager and related only to religious topics.57 For the period after
the fall of Volsinii, they concern the possible dissolution of the league, and for the
period after 89 BCE, they concern the date and structure of its formal reconstitution
(or reform), beginning with the increase in its membership size from twelve to fifteen
cities and ending with the final list of these fifteen populi.58 According to Tacitus (Ann.
11.15), the emperor Claudius, during his censorship in 47 CE, had delegated to the
55 Liverani 1989, proposed substantially a reconstruction along the lines traced by Bormann 1887,
104–7, 124–26. Although ultimately he does not clarify in depth the function of the monument, perhaps
a statue base rather than a throne or seat, his is currently preferable to my suggestion Torelli 1985,
which sees the sequence as an itinerary.
56 On this subject, besides Torelli 1985, see La lega etrusca 2001 and refer to these for the relevant
bibliography.
57 Recent discussion in Maggiani 2001.
58 Liou 1969; Torelli 1971; Liverani 1989.

Fig. 38.9: Central area of the Fanum Voltumnae sanctuary in the Roman phase
(after AnnMuseoFaina 16, 2009, p. 462, fig. 15)
pontiffs the task of controlling the continuity of the care for the disciplina, the only
genuine haruspicina, the Etruscan one. On the other hand, attributing the new foun-
dation of the Etruscan league to Augustus59 appears to be a safer solution in view of a
59 Discussion in Torelli 1971.

700 Mario Torelli
few cases of praetores Etruriae preceding the reign of Claudius60 and, above all, of the
data provided by archaeology.
Recently, in fact, after centuries of discussions about its location, the fanum
Voltumnae has finally come to light in the immediate vicinity of the northeastern
extremity of Orvieto, corresponding to the city of Volsinii, destroyed after the serf
revolt in 265 BCE. The first campaigns of excavation61 have brought to light a number
of temples and altars within a very wide sacred area with phases ranging from the
Archaic and Classical periods to the Roman times. These structures reveal—or seem
to reveal—traces of the Roman sacking of 265. The heart of the Roman presence con-
sists of a small temple with its altar (strangely labeled as “donarium”) and of what
appears to be a great brick hall with a mosaic floor, but preserving traces of much
earlier phase which must have played a central role in the life of the sanctuary in the
Imperial period, perhaps as the seat of city delegate meetings and of the election of
the praetor Etruriae. Transformed into an edifice for Christian worship in the Caro-
lingian period (fragments of marble decoration of that date are known) dedicated to
St. Peter,62 which medieval sources, significantly, define as in vetere, this hall pre-
sents a phase in opus reticulatum interpreted by the excavators as the remains of a
domus, a structure hard to imagine at the center of a suburban area. The phase in opus
reticulatum is considered proof of the existence of a special interest in the fanum at the
beginning of the Imperial period, as evidenced by the appearance in a few places in
the walled sanctuary of the same technique. These buildings demonstrate that there
was a specific interest in the site on the part of the elite of the Etruscan cities, if not the
emperor himself, given the connotations of the construction technique directly bound
to Rome, a clear proof of the intervention of urban workers.
That this was indeed the heart of the sanctuary in the Roman period has recently
been confirmed by the building, not far from the hall, of a small thermal installation
fed by a rudimentary aqueduct. The baths, although modest, represent an obvious
tribute not only to the Roman passion for “sociability” that develops within the
60 From the reign of Augustus is the Cortonan [C. ?] Metellius C. f. Stell. of CIL XI 1905, which is difficult
to read [aed.] Etruriae as suggested by Liou 1969, 68–70, but is rather [pr(aetor)] Etruriae, as already
suggested by Bormann in CIL ad loc., who also speaks very clearly in favor of the “high” chronology of
the inscription on the basis of paleography. The inscription CIL XI 7979, which mentions the praetura
Etruriae of Sex.Valerius Sex. f. Clu. Proculus, comes from within a known Hellenistic hypogeum of
the Perusine type of Vettona (Cultrera 1916; Scarpignato 1991). It was used from the second century
BCE until the reign of Tiberius. Opposite has come to light a copy of the same text (Bonamente 1996),
perhaps assignable to a reuse (for reasons of prestige) of a sepulcher of the late first or the second
century, the period of the paleography of both inscriptions. It should not be considered, as I thought at
one time (Torelli 1971, 493–94), a proof of the existence of the office in the Augustan–Tiberian period.
61 Preliminary report in Stopponi 2009, with previous literature.
62 Stopponi 2007, 501, figs. 40–42.

Fig. 38.10: Latin inscription mentioning M. Fulvius Flaccus from the Sant’Omobono area at Rome
λουτρὸν λυσίπονον,63 and they constitute a facility needed by the distinguished Etrus-
cans who gathered for the festivals, as well as for sports activities of the ludi that were,
as in the past, at the core of the life of the sanctuary. The presence of bases of large and
small votive offerings in the excavations that reveal signs of violence has been consid-
ered proof of the Roman plundering of the sanctuary in 265. This is in addition to the
mention of 2000 bronze statues (presumably of all kinds, including little ones) that
according to the misorhomaios Metrodorus of Scepsis were plundered by the Romans
from Volsinii.64 Clear evidence is provided by the sigilla seized and dedicated by
M. Fulvius Flaccus in the triumphal sanctuary at Sant’Omobono in Rome (Figs. 38.10,
61.2).65 Unfortunately not yet available are two crucial pieces of information. The first
concerns the possible interruption in the life of the sanctuary between 265 and the
very early imperial age, when the ceremonies and ludi were resumed. The second con-
cerns the exact dating of the beginning of the institution’s Roman phase, although
the preliminary reports offer a glimpse of persistent building activity mentioned here
and there in those reports, and they speak of abundant evidence of first-century BCE
pottery.66 The presence of tombs throughout the area and from Early Medieval dwell-
ings within the baths witnesses that in the sixth century CE the site was in neglect,
except for the church. The new archaeological data is of the outmost importance and
seem to prove definitively—as I suggested decades ago—that the reorganization of the
sanctuary took place long before the reign of Claudius, at the beginning of the reign
of Augustus. This was the moment when the princeps, obeying the antiquarian urge of
the age that was widely shared by the classes that formed his main political support,
as part of the construction of his personal power, “archaeologically” revived religious
63 “Bathing that dissolves fatigues” is the characterization of bathing found in the monumental
Greek inscription of the Baths of the Forum of Ostia (Lazzarini 1983).
64 Plin. HN 34.34; cf. Colonna 1998.
65 Torelli 1968.
66 Stopponi 2006.

702 Mario Torelli
Fig. 38.11: Latin inscription mentioning C.Metellius C.f. Stell. [praet(or)] Etruriae. Cortona,
Museo dell’Accademia Etrusca (after Liou 1969, pl. 6)
institutions of a time that had sunk into oblivion. This would include the revival (or
reinvention) of the Fratres Arvales brotherhood, which dates around 29 CE.67
There was a very active participation of senators, equites and local dignitaries,
all or almost all without a single drop of Etruscan blood, belonging to the cities of
Etruria, in the life of the renewed Fanum and added to their careers the coveted titles
of praetor Etruriae or aedilis Etruriae (Fig. 38.11).68 The Augustan restoration of the
league increased the number of the cities from twelve to fifteen to satisfy the ambi-
tions of the centers that had more recently emerged into notoriety compared to the
original composition of the dodecapolis. While the aedileship was reserved to the
domi nobiles, the praetorship was usually the prerogative of persons of senatorial
rank, let alone emperor Hadrian himself.69 In the Late Imperial period, following
Diocletian’s provincialization of Italy, the originally Etruscan festivals of the Fanum
Voltumnae became the center of the imperial cult for the province of Tuscia et Umbria.
67 Scheid 1990, 677–94.

68 Lists in Liou 1969 and Torelli 1971, to which add the Volsinian praetor Etruriae [- Pompeius
Vopiscus C.Arr]unt[ius Cate]llius Celer cos. suff. c. a 140, made known by Gros 1980 (= AE 1980, 426).
For the importance and prestige of the praetura Etruriae, we may note that in this person’s cursus the
mention of the praetura Etruriae occurs between the consulate and proconsulate of Africa, the highest
positions he could hold.
69 SHA Hadr. 19.1. Of the 13 known praetores Etruriae, 6 are senators, 3 equites, and 4 municipal
magistrates (probably all e quites); the 4 known aediles Etruriae are all municipal magistrates of
unknown affiliation to the official orders of senators and knights.

This merged the Umbrians—who had become part of the same province—with this
Volsinian festival. A few years later, however, the Edict of Hispellum issued by the
emperor Constantine70 authorized the Umbrians to celebrate the ludi and festivals
of the imperial cult in their own main city. The new title of coronatus Tusciae (et
Umbriae)—parallel to the Greek title of στεφανηφόρος,71 which was awarded to the
provincial archiereis of the Greek-speaking provinces—is dated to this period. The
new title serves as evidence that the primary function of these priests was to take care
of the imperial cult entrusted to the praetores Etruriae.
3 The legitimizing past: Familial ambitions

We know very well72 how important the display of illustrious ancestors was for family
fortunes in Rome, especially gentes of great antiquity. In the alae of the noble houses
the armaria showed the imagines maiorum connected by ribbons73 to form stemmata,
family trees, whose antiquity is directly proportionate to the prestige attached to them
by the communis opinio of all, patricians and plebeians, honestiores and humiliores.
With the entry of the Etruscans into the Roman state with the full privileges of the
civitas optimo iure, the ruling classes of the individual cities, regardless of whether
or not they descended from ancient Etruscan principes, could count on the antiquity
of their own stemmata. The authenticity thereof rested in family archives that could
date back centuries, and often included among an ancestry persons of the first rank
in the Tuscae historiae, which we know were cultivated locally from the late republi-
can period through the entire imperial age.74 That is how it could come about that in
the first century CE a poet with ancient Etruscan origins like Persius from Volaterrae
could aim the pointed barbs of his satire at his compatriots who boasted the most lofty
Etruscan family trees. “Or are you to puff out your lungs with pride because you come
of a Tuscan stock, yourself the thousandth in the line…?”75 For a domi nobilis from
one of the main Etrurian cities, the possibility of exhibiting that sort of pedigree could
signify rapid access to the senate and (gods willing) the achievement of prestigious
and lucrative responsibilities in the government starting with urban offices in Rome.
70 See most recently Amann 2002.

71 Liou 1969, 88 n. 2. The title iuratus ad sacra Etruriae in CIL XI 1848 = ILS 5019 must refer to the
position of town delegate who contributed with the representatives of the other cities to the election
of the praetor and the aedilis Etruriae.
72 For these problems fundamental is Smith 2006, with extended discussion of the ancient sources.
73 For all the literature ancient and modern relating to the exhibition of lineages in patrician houses,
see Flower 1996.
74 Sordi 1989b; see also Ramelli 2003.
75 Pers. 3.27–28: “an deceat tibi pulmonem rumpere ventis / stemmata quod Tusco ramummillesime
ducis ?” (trans. Ramsay 1965).

704 Mario Torelli
But this was not the rule. C. Maecenas, an Arretine eques of great wealth,76 hymned
by Horace as a descendant of kings, even refused to undertake a senatorial career to
become, in the felicitous definition of Ronald Syme, a “member of the cabinet” and
one of the brains behind “the national program” of the princeps.
Through this research into noble ancestry, Etruria has provided us with a series
of very interesting cases. The simplest stratagem, carried out time after time in every
part of Etruria, is to resurrect famous names of the past. From the many cases of
sought after homonymy one of the clearest is that of the Velimna-Volumnii, known
from various documents from Perusia, among others. Giovanni Colonna77 has recently
offered a plausible reconstruction of the history of this illustrious family of Perusia.
After the death of Arnth Velimna, author of the realization of the famous tomb that
bears the name of the Volumnii and in which he had prepared resting-places for all the
members of the family, the hypogeum was abandoned very soon, only to be reopened
around 50 BCE78 to accommodate the marble urn with the inscription of P. Volumnius
A. f. Violens (Fig. 38.12). He was the son of a person whose name deliberately recapitu-
lates that of a famous citizen of three centuries earlier, mentioned above, who was
consul in Rome in 302. As is proven by the epigraphic and archaeological evidence
from the tomb, this first-century person had aimed for an intentional revival of the tria
nomina of the Roman consul in the name of a certainly false direct descent. To give
still more credit to these (false) origins, useful under both the strictly Roman profile
and the Perusian and Etruscan one, he proceeded to reopen the tomb to deposit the
ashes, which led all local citizens to believe that he was to be considered descendant
of the nobiles Velimnas of the fourth century BCE.
Another justly famous case, inspired by the series of statues and elogia of the
summi viri of Rome in the Forum of Augustus, is that represented by the Latin inscrip-
tions containing three elogia of people from Tarquinia’s most glorious historical
times.79 Considerable parts of the first and last of the three elogia are preserved; not
much survives of the second inscription. The texts illustrate the career of these three
Tarquinians between the end of the fifth and the second half of the fourth century—
all praetors (i.e. zilath), members of Spurinas family one of the most famous in Tar-
76 On this character, the bibliography is endless: for his Etruscan origins see Eberle 1958; on the
literary aspects André 1967; most recently Freudenburg 2009.
77 Colonna 2011.
78 The date of the urn ET Pe 1.313 = CIL XI 1963 = CIL I(2) 2037 is generally placed in the reign of
Augustus on the basis of its material, marble, in my opinion a conviction without solid grounds. The
reconstruction of the administrative history of Roman Perusia, which bears directly on the question
of who was writing here, has recently interested (Sisani 2011), with arguments I intend to return to in
a near future.
79 Torelli 1975, 23–102.

Fig. 38.12: Marble urn with the inscription of P. Volumnius

A.f. Violens Cafatia natus. Perugia, Archaeological Museum
(photo by M. Torelli)
quinia and in my opinion owners of the splendid Tomb of the Ogre.80 Their names
are Latinized as Velthur Spurinna Lartis f., Velthur Spurinna Velthuris f., and A. Spu-
rinna Velthuris f., respectively founder of the fortunes of the family, his son, and his
nephew (or younger son) (Fig. 38.13).
The founder, Velthur Spurinna Lartis f., twice praetor, was the commander of the
small Tarquinian contingent that participated in the 415–414 Athenian expedition
against Syracuse, mentioned only as generic “Etruscans” by Thucydides (6.88.6; 7.53.2;
80 Morandi and Colonna 1995 have suggested seeing in the tomb an original foundation of the
Smurinas, patently a very unlikely conjecture. Now Torelli 2013–4.

706 Mario Torelli
Fig. 38.13: Latin inscription mentioning Velthur Spurinna.

Tarquinia, Archaeological Museum (after Torelli 1975, pl. 4)
7.54; 7.57.11). It is Thucydides who documents the victory—the only Athenian victory
in the entire campaign—achieved by the Etruscan troops who had remained to guard
the encampment, and who even raised a trophy to celebrate the victory. The elogium
registers the Etruscan version of the events, which are presented as the first successful
traiectus of an Etruscan army in Sicily and the granting to this army of a crown (?) of
gold, possibly a version in Etruscan terms of the trophy erected at Syracuse.
A. Spurinna Velthuris f., thrice praetor, enjoyed recorded successes that we can
easily connect with the war between Rome and Tarquinia of the years 358–353, always
seen from the Etruscan perspective (Fig. 38.14). The recorded events mention the
overthrow of the king of Caere and the conquest of nine oppida by the Latins, i.e.
by the Romans, perhaps with the aid of the Falisci. The two events, read instead in
the light of the Roman annalistic tradition, coincide first with Caere’s defection from
the traditional alliance with Rome, and second with the news of the tumultus Etrus-
cus proclaimed by the Tarquinian presence at the gates of Rome. This is where the
Decem Pagi were located, a Roman possession on the right bank of the Tiber, dating,
according to tradition, back to the time of Romulus. To these deeds the elogium adds
a report of an otherwise unknown intervention by A. Spurinna at Arretium in connec-
tion with a bellum servile, an episode that has been confirmed by Augusto Campana
and Adriano Maggiani.81 There is also a report (now preserved in a manuscript of the
81 Campana and Maggiani 1989; cf. Maggiani and Cherici 1986; Agostiniani and Giannecchini 2002,
with previous literature.

Fig. 38.14: Latin inscription mentioning Aulus Spurinna. Tarquinia, Archaeological Museum
(after Torelli 1975, pl. 4)
Vatican Library) of an Etruscan inscription from Tarquinia that refers to the elogium
of Cilnei, a noble woman from Arretium (Maecenas belonged to this gens) who was
married to Arnth Spurinas. It is obviously a matrimonial seal of the Arretine interests
of the Spurinas.
This is not the place to discuss the various historical interpretations of the content
of these elogia. I would rather explore how these notices were transmitted from the
period to which they refer to the early imperial age, when the elogia of the Spurinna
family were written, and try to identify the person who commissioned the monument.
With relative certainty, we can attribute this undertaking to Vestricius Spurinna, who
lived in the time of Augustus and Tiberius, and was the father or grandfather of a
prominent member of the Roman senate in the first century CE, T. Vestricius Spu-
rinna, cos. II 100 CE. These Vestricii descended from the Vestarcnie, a fourth century
aristocratic family in Tarquinia whose family tomb in the necropolis of the Secondi
Archi82 is known, with sarcophagi for only two generations and which somehow
merged with the family that owned the Tomba del Cardinale.83 The Augustan-Tiberian
Vestricius Spurinna bore a second nomen because he was the son of a domi nobilis
Vestricius, who lived from the middle of the first century BCE to the time of Augus-
tus, and of Spurinnia, daughter of Caesar’s haruspex, known to us from Cicero and
82 Fiorelli 1876, 19–20.

83 See Torelli 1975, 97; on the Tomba del Cardinale, see A. Morandi 1983.

708 Mario Torelli
other sources.84 Naturally Caesar’s haruspex was not a direct descendant of the great
Spurinas celebrated by the elogia, since the line might have ended already in the last
years of the fourth century. The social and political marginality of Caesar’s haruspex
Spurinna and the slow ascent of the Vestricii to whom he was related tell us that the
haruspex was almost certainly an indirect descendant of freedmen of the great Spuri-
nas gens of our elogia.
A series of facts attest the premature disappearance of this illustrious fourth-
century Tarquinian family. First, it appears that Cilnei (who was originally married to
Arnth Spurinas in whom we should perhaps see a son of Aulus Spurinna) was remar-
ried. Second, the sarcophagus85 of a different Arnth Spurinas, son of Vel Spurinas and
of a Thanchvil Cuclni, was placed in the Tomb of the Partunus family. Finally, there
was a deliberate, programmatic destruction of the walls of the second chamber of the
Tomb of the Orcus—which had depicted the banqueting ancestors of the Spurinas—to
make room for the new occupants of the hypogeum, the Smurinas. This does not mean
that the archive of the gens, on which the notices of the elogia certainly depend, had
been destroyed or dispersed. The probable existence of the liber de gente Spurinnia,
similar to the libri de gente Iunia, Claudia, Cornelia, or Fabia written by Cicero’s friend
Atticus86 on the gentes of Brutus, Claudius Marcellus, Cornelius Scipio, or Fabius
Maximus, is brought to our attention by an anecdote recorded by Valerius Maximus
(4.5, ext. 1), “ante gestum … quam civitas Etrurirae daretur.” It speaks of an extraor-
dinarily beautiful boy called Spurinna, who disfigured his face to preserve his own
sanctitas, because his appearance aroused such desires in the women of rank, “com-
plurium feminarum inlustrium sollicitaret oculos.” The anecdote is in itself of little
significance, but the circumstances it reveals are of extreme interest. This is because
they document private events of persons of illustrious birth (and of strict customs…),
which happened long before the grant of the Roman citizenship. We must presume
the existence of compilations based on memories of the gens, from which the author
of the elogia must have drawn. These familial archives, together with public records
of events and the religious literature underlying the Tuscae historiae, are one of the
main points of reference of the Etruscan heritage. Etruscan heritage was still continu-
ously used in the early imperial age for the purpose of family propaganda, however
much of that heritage they proclaim, usually falsely, to have held.
The familial memories entrusted to the tabulae and kept in the tablina of the
patrician houses were not the only sources that could be relied on for the purpose of
glorifying their own stock. Sometimes where the conditions were met, reference could
84 Cic. Div. 1.119; Fam. 9.24; Suet. Iul. 81; Val.Max. 8.11.3; Plut. Caes. 63.1–7; perhaps the same summus
haruspex who was close to Caesar in Africa in 46 BCE from Cic. Div. 2.52.
85 CIE 5427 = ET Ta 1.16, identical to CIE 5566 (Morandi in REE 1997 [1999], 424–27, n. 47); on these
events of the family tomb of the Spurinas, see now Torelli 2013-4.
86 Nep. Att. 18; cf. Torelli 1975, 95–96.

be made to objects that we know were used as vehicles of memory. These were, for
example, insignia of power, or plunder from the family’s military undertakings, such
as the tabulae that “lay” in the same tablina, not unlike the keimelia in the aristocratic
residences of the Greeks in the Homeric age. Such objects had an immense evocative
power, and their antiquity was a guarantee of the virtus and honores deserved by the
ancestors. The sculpted “thrones” in the archaic chamber tombs of Caere were identi-
cal to the solidae sellae of the vocabulary of the Roman augurs.87 The thrones were
eternal proof of the right to the auspicia enjoyed by the gens, precisely as the images
of arms and human figures expressed in relief in the Tomb of the Volumni at Perusia88
constituted a reference to familial res gestae, the same as those that are recalled in the
Roman patrician domus of insignia, trophies, and manubiae of war that the generals
in the family displayed in the vestibula, atria, and patrician tablina.89
The “Corsini Throne,” an enigmatic object found in 1732 during construction of
the family chapel ordered by Pope Clement XII Corsini in St. John Lateran in Rome and
preserved in the Corsini Collection, belongs to this category of object.90 The “Throne”
is in fact a replica, quite faithful in many ways, very approximate in others, of a seat
with a curved back and circular base. It is in the form of the most archaic solida sella of
the auspicia, and is decorated in relief with continuous friezes on the back depicting
a parade of soldiers and a hunt, and vegetal friezes and a funerary cult ceremony on
the base. It is clearly an imitation of an Etruscan object in embossed sheets of bronze,
probably of the Archaic or Late Archaic period, in iconographic harmony with bronze
works of northern Etruria. This peculiar object must have decorated the tablinum of a
Roman aristocratic house to commemorate the glories of a stock going back to earlier
centuries. It could evoke with the very form of insignia of power a past of reges and
principes among the most prestigious civilizations of the peninsula (Fig. 38.15).
It was discovered in the Lateranum, the residence of the Plauti, one of the most
eminent late republican and early imperial patrician families of Rome. Two branches
of the family are known, the Plauti Silvani and the Plauti Laterani. The Lateranum, a
princely possession where much later the cathedral of Rome was built by the emperor
Constantine, belonged to this second branch, which was involved in the Pisonian con-
spiracy, the reason for the confiscation of the praedia of the family of the Laterani by
Nero. The greatest fortune of the other branch, that of the Plauti Silvani, was the mar-
riage of the first praetorius of the line, M. Plautius Silvanus, with Urgulania, mother
of the first consul in the family, M. Plautius Silvanus cos. ord. 2 BCE. She was defi-
nitely of Etruscan origin, as illuminated by Jacques Heurgon,91 perhaps a descendant
87 Torelli 2006.
88 Intelligent discussion of the artistic program and of current interpretations in Lippolis 2011.
89 Sources and documents in Torelli 1999a.
90 Torelli 1999b, 150–64, with discussion of both the “Throne” and the family fortunes of the Plauti.
91 Heurgon 1964, 83–84.

710 Mario Torelli
Fig. 38.15: The Corsini throne. Rome,

Galleria Corsini (photo by M. Torelli)
of Velthur Orgolnius, the Caeritum rex, who, according to the elogium of A. Spurinna,
would have been dethroned by A. Spurinna.92 Urgulania, who succeeded in arranging
the betrothal of her granddaughter Plautia Urgulanilla to the future emperor Claudius,
pursued a consistent matrimonial policy for the members of her clan, both the Silvani
and the Laterani, with senatorial gentes of the same origins, from Etruria or adjacent
cities of Umbria. Known for gestures of true Etruscan severitas, this fearsome lady
was able to count on the favor of Augustus’ powerful wife to uphold the fortunes of
the Plauti. She had certainly taken advantage of her “royal” Etruscan origins to lift
out of anonymity her husband’s family, whose origins were from Trebula Suffenas, an
extremely obscure municipality in the Tiburtine mountains. The family had made a
modest appearance in the Roman senate in the early first century BCE, and had labo-
riously recorded the above-mentioned praetor during the reign of Caesar. Whether
her own claims of royal ancestry were true or false, Urgulania brought a member of
her family close to acquiring the imperial throne: boasting of royal Etruscan origins
thus paid off.
92 Torelli 1975, 70–72.

4 The powerful vehicle of the Etruscan legacy:

Disciplina
A custom of obscure origin, but which had become the law of Rome, had it that the
procurationes of the prodigia publica would be entrusted, with the consent of the
senate, to Etruscan haruspices. Using the rhythms and hendiadys that are typical
of the legal language, Cicero states:93 “prodigia portenta ad Etruscos haruspices, si
senatus iussit, deferunto.” We do not know, however, when this sort of law would
have been approved nor whether similar laws were part of the obligations awarded to
the Etruscan principes to perpetuate the knowledge of the disciplina. This is the name
of the variegated corpus of haruspicy writings, libri haruspicini, fatales, fulgurales,
rituales, Tagetici, Acherontici,94 an obligation confirmed by another legal text cited by
Cicero: “Etruria principes disciplinam doceto.” The principle is explicitly given in the
normative myth depicted on a well-known mirror from Tuscania,95 a splendid confir-
mation of the antiquity of the tradition of teaching the disciplina principally within
the aristocratic families of Etruria.
This singular Roman practice of calling on Etruscan haruspices in case of por-
tenta reveals the great prestige the adepts of disciplina enjoyed. The Etruscan princi-
pes could not have failed to take advantage of this contact between the two ruling
classes to orient the politics of Rome in their favor, although even the Romans had
doubts about the bona fides of these soothsayers. As we have seen, the incorporation
of Etruria into the Roman state occurred right in the middle of a decline in the quality
and quantity of the Etruscan cities’ ruling classes, the reason behind the decline in
social and cultural position of the haruspices. At the same time, at all social levels of
Rome, superstitions of every type spread, which brought an increasing interest in all
forms of reading omens96 and an increasing desire to establish personal relationship
with those who were the interpreters of those omens, who due to the new demand
multiplied beyond measure. Even if it becomes confused with a jumble of sugges-
tions of an esoteric nature, the speculative interest in disciplina, which in the different
types of the libri haruspicini amply nourishes antiquarianism, was fed by persons of
varied origin. Some were Italic, as in the case of C. Fonteius Capito,97 but most were
Etruscan, such as the Volterran A. Caecina, who was active in Roman political life at
the time of the civil wars, and P. Nigidius Figulus, likely from Perusia, senator in the
93 Cic. Leg. 2.19.21; cf. Har.resp. 9.18.

94 Thulin 1905–9 remains fundamental.
95 Torelli 1988, with previous literature.
96 Illuminating is the synthesis by Momigliano 1984; see more recently Capdeville 1998.
97 Weinstock 1950.

712 Mario Torelli
Fig. 38.16: Inscription mentioning M. Tarquitius Priscus and M. Tarquitius Etruscus. Tarquinia,
Archaeological Museum (after Torelli 2005, fig. 2)
first half of the first century BCE,98 fragments of whose work survive in the De osten-
tis of John Lydus (see below). As for personal relationships between haruspices and
prominent individuals on the Roman political scene, we know of several examples
beginning in the last decades of the first century.99
From the private haruspices of C. Gracchus, Sulla, and Caesar, we pass, with the
empire, to the institutionalized form of the haruspices Caesarum. Recently, thanks to
a new inscription from Tarquinia (Fig. 38.16),100 we have learned the name of Tibe-
rius’s haruspex, the most famous writer of disciplina M. Tarquitius Priscus.101 Rather
than Priscus himself, his son M. Tarquitius Etruscus is probably the author of the reor-
ganization, perhaps coinciding with the reinforcement of the ordo LX haruspicum,102
98 Harris 1971, 4–8; from Caecina according to the fragment relating to the founding of Mantua in
Schol. Veron. Aen. 10.200.
99 Haack 2005; 2006.
100 Torelli 2005.
101 Torelli 2011b.
102 Torelli 1975, 116–35.

of the college of haruspices based in Tarquinia that was ordered by Claudius. The
history of private haruspices is thus bound up with the fortunes of this ordo, which
was certainly very ancient. It was headed by a magister and had sixty members, who
contributed to the college a fixed number of pueri, boys intended for instruction in the
disciplina. The number sixty appears to relate to the composition, whether twelve or
fifteen of the league’s populi, who respectively would have contributed to the ordo five
or four pueri from the families of the principes (although these figures conflict with the
six and ten pueri given by Cicero and Valerius Maximus, respectively).
Still at Tarquinia, opposite the Ara della Regina temple, a group of fragmentary
inscriptions on colored marble bearing the fasti of the magistri of the college has come
to light in various times. The list only starts from the grant of Roman citizenship in
89 BCE and provides a sequence (that may be fairly complete) of only four magistri,
for whom are provided the tria nomina and a brief elogium of their professional res
gestae. The first of these four, maybe the first in the list, is an unnamed magister
of the second quarter of the first century, the author of procurationes of ostenta ful-
guralia(?), carmina (prophecies in verse), and many divinationes augurales, whose
disciplina was to be deposited near the Roman priestly college of the decemviri sacris
faciundis (from 51 BCE quindecemviri) (Fig. 38.17.a). The second is P. Coelius P. f. Etrus-
cus, of whose activities almost nothing is preserved, though they must have occupied
the second half of the first century, perhaps before Volcatius, the haruspex who died
soon after prophesying the end the ninth century with the appearance of the Iulium
sidus,103 and before the anonymous haruspex who predicted the death of Augustus104
(if they were indeed magistri of the ordo) (Fig. 38.17.b).
The third, as had been conjectured by E. Bormann,105 even though he united the
fragments known to him into a single elogium, is M. Tarquitius Priscus, author of fre-
quently cited Latin books of disciplina. Priscus certainly had a good knowledge of the
Etruscan language; we now know him to have been Tiberius’s haruspex. As stated in
the last line of the text, he enjoyed a long career, of many, many years (at least [tringin]
ta, if not actually [quadragin]ta). Beginning in 13 CE, he served in Tiberius’ retinue
in Illyria with a rather obscure activity in the area of the Pagus Arusnatium (possibly
to be placed an area near the Garda Lake) and with the “invention” of his client’s
personal goddess, Iustitia; and the end came with the denunciation of the comitia
iniusta of Sejanus in 32 CE.106 The fourth is the son of Tarquitius Priscus, M. Tarquitius
Etruscus, successor to his father in the reign of Caligula or Claudius, who, as we have
103 Serv. ecl. 9.46.

104 He may be the same haruspex who dedicated the hypaethral shrine of Iuppiter Iurarius on the
Isola Tiberina of CIL VI 1105 = CIL I(2) 990 = ILS 3038 = ILLRP 186.
105 Bormann 1887.
106 An enigmatic city inscription (CIL VI 10213) speaks of improbae comitiae [sic!]: Syme 1956
correctly identified it with the consular rally held, contrary to custom, on the Aventine for the powerful
praefectus praetorio of Tiberius.

714 Mario Torelli
Fig. 38.17: Fasti of the college of LX Haruspices: a. fragment 1;

b. fragment 2. Tarquinia, Archaeological Museum (after Torelli 1975, pl. 8–9)
seen, together with Caesennius (the cos. ord. of 61 CE?) was responsible for refur-
bishing with colored marble the meeting place of the ordo107 near the heroic tomb of
Tarchon, a cenotaph merely glimpsed by the excavations under the altar of the Ara
della Regina temple.108 It is possible that this place was considered the location of the
ager Tarquiniensis, from whose land was supposed to have emerged the puer prodi-
gialis Tages,109 who was credited with having taught Etruria the arts of hepatoscopy
and other forms of divination used by haruspices. Among the manifestations of the
centuries-long contact between Rome and Etruria through the haruspices, Tarquitius
107 Torelli 1975, 136–42.

108 Bonghi Jovino 2009, 14–17; Torelli 2012.
109 Sources in RE 4A, 2009–12 (S. Weinstock); cf. Wood 1980.

Priscus is the last to have had major political success. Although the ordo LX haruspi-
cum, the haruspices Caesarum and the haruspices Augustorum continued to be spoken
of,110 the political relevance of the disciplina thereafter died out, probably in combina-
tion with the fading away of the direct transmission of the cultural heritage of Etruria.
Thanks to transmission related to the study of divination by hepatoscopy and
the observation of ostenta, haruspicy and the literature connected with it, though
in forms little controlled and always a bit barbarized, spread widely in the empire,
far beyond Etruria and even Rome itself. It was long destined to remain not only a
form of popular divination (we even hear of haruspices legionis!) which would recur
at particular moments, but also a memory of an ancient custom preserved in cultural
environments whether lofty or less cultivated. In the late empire it spawned fierce
conflicts with the ever more successful Christianity.111 The two aspects—the popular
and the cultured—come to light in the final throes of the old world.112 In terms of the
popular aspect of haruspicy, it suffices to recall the appearance in 408 CE at the gate
of the City of some haruspices coming from the Umbrian city of Narnia, claiming that
they were capable of warding off the threat of Alaric at the gates of Rome solely by
the practice of the ancient rites.113 Similarly, it is worth noting the “Etruscan” harus-
pices mentioned by Procopius; or again the haruspices condemned by the Fourth
Council of Toledo in 633.114 For the role of the disciplina on the cultured level, we turn
to two learned men at the threshold of the Middle Ages. Martianus Capella, in the
West, managed to gather echoes of haruspical doctrine. John Lydus, in the East, still
had access in the Constantinople of Justinian to good antiquarian sources from many
centuries earlier,and explored the “silver heirloom” of a past, of which the basileus
of Byzantium still demonstrated need and of which the doctrine of the ostenta, the
ultimate heritage of the disciplina, was fully a part.115
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IV. Civilization
Early Iron Age

Lars Karlsson
39 Hut Architecture, 10th cent.-730 BCE
Abstract: The development from a large oval Proto-Villanovan hut placed in a cut channel—via the
compact Villanovan hut with substantial wattle-and-daub walls—to the rectilinear hut of the Ori-
entalizing period, built with traditional “hut materials” but on a new plan took about 500 years.
In the second half of the Orientalizing period, terracotta roofs were introduced as well as quarried
ashlar blocks in walls and foundations. With the Archaic period, Etruria abandoned its prehistory and
entered the architectural koine of the Mediterranean world.
Keywords: Early Iron age hut, oval hut, rectangular hut, cinerary urn
Introduction
In his introduction to “the origin of the dwelling house” in Book II, Vitruvius writes:
“And first, with upright forked props and twigs put between, they wove their walls.
Others made walls, drying moistened clods which they bound with wood, and covered
with reeds and leafage, so as to escape the rain and heat.”1 His words are a good intro-
duction to Etruscan building construction, which will be discussed in this chapter.
The sources for our knowledge of prehistoric hut architecture are first of all the
archaeological excavations conducted since the 1950s. There perishable materials
used in the construction of huts, however, are difficult to detect during an excavation.
We uncover the bedrock cuttings, stone socles and daub fragments for the construc-
tion of the huts. From these we can only attempt to restore the huts themselves.
In the Early Iron Age, people began making their cinerary urns in the shape of
huts, both in terracotta and in bronze. These are the main source for our reconstruc-
tions of the huts’ walls and roofs together with the few preserved house models from
Greece. Shepherds’ huts, especially from the Roman campagna, further furnish infor-
mation about this architecture of intricately twisted branches and plaited twigs.2 The
campagna hut fits the description of Vitruvius; it consists of a palisade wall of closely
placed posts, which are tied together at the top by a very long “osier-tie” running
around the hut. The roof rafters are then tied to this osier-tie ring and bound together
at the top. Because the ring is self-contained, the hut does not need internal supports.
1 Vitr II.I.3 (transl. F. Granger, Loeb Classical Library). For valuable discussions I thank Nancy Winter,
Alessandro Naso and Fredrik Tobin, as well as Jesper Blid Kullberg for producing the watercolors of
Fig. 39.2–3.
2 Erixon 2001 (originally published in Swedish in 1932). For further studies on the huts of the Roman
campagna, see Brocato and Galluccio 2001; Close-Brooks and Gibson 1966.
724 Lars Karlsson
For the sake of clarity, this chapter has been divided into three chronological periods.
According to Swedish archaeologists, at some sites the culture called Proto-Villanovan
continues uninterrupted into the Villanovan period.3 In general terms, the develop-
ment suggests an increased use of durable building materials: primarily wood in the
Proto-Villanovan period, and stone socles and sun-baked clay in the (more advanced)
Villanovan period. In the Orientalizing period, these two materials are further devel-
oped in combination with the rectilinear house plan and the use of larger, but still
unworked blocks in the foundations.
1 The Proto-Villanovan period
1.1 San Giovenale
Many remains of prehistoric huts were discovered from 1956–1965.4 In Area D, Hut 1
measures 10.4 m in length and has a maximum width of 5.28 m.5 The remains consist
of cut channels in the tufa bedrock occasionally combined with thin lines of rocks
placed outside of the cut channels. In the interior two rows of postholes indicate a
three-aisled inner space. The huts are oriented southwest-northeast and have floors
placed a couple of centimeters above the bedrock. Along the walls there is a dais—an
elevated platform. The entrance to the huts was on the shorter southwestern side, as
can be understood from a 60 cm long interruption in the channel. (Fig. 39.1).
In Area F East, several segments of cut channels from four oval huts were found
under the Archaic houses, also oriented southwest-northeast.6 The cut channel has
a width of about 10 cm. At the bottom of Oval Hut 1 a hearth was found with pottery
of the earliest Proto-Villanovan type. Two charcoal fragments were dated surprisingly
early, to between 1400–1200 BCE.7
Two huts were excavated in Area E. Oval Hut I measured 8–8.5 m in length and
about 5 m in width.8 It was built in a cut channel but in the northwest, as the bedrock
drops off, it stood on a foundation of tufa chips placed on a bed of white river stones.
3 Discussed by Colonna 1984.

4 A very large Proto-Villanovan hut was discovered in the early 1960s in nearby Luni sul Mignone. It
measured 17.2–17.4 × 9.0–9.1 m and had a completely dugout interior with a depth of between 3–6 m. It
is an unusual building and was probably influenced by the Apennine Bronze Age houses on the same
site; see Hellström 2001.
5 Malcus 1984, 38; see also Architettura etrusca 1986.
6 See plan in Karlsson 2006, 137 and fig. 264.
7 Karlsson 2006, 141, fig. 265.
8 Pohl 1977, 14.

39 Hut Architecture, 10th cent.-730 BCE 725
Fig. 39.1: San Giovenale. Area D. Tower photograph (from Malcus 1984, pl. II:1)
White river stones also covered the floor of the hut.9 Postholes suggest a three-aisled
plan. Another hut of the same size and with a cut channel can be traced in the south-
eastern part of the trench. The opening for the door can clearly be seen on the shorter
western side. This hut is oriented in the normal southwest-northeast direction, while
Oval Hut I is oriented more strictly east-west.
Finally, in the southwestern parts of the Borgo excavations there was the remark-
able discovery of a large channel cut along the edge of the tufa plateau.10 This channel
was cut to hold the standing logs of a palisade. The channel was 0.30–0.40 m wide
and about 0.60 m deep. Behind the channel, on the city side, a series of postholes
located about one meter from the channel were cut in the bedrock, presumably to
support diagonal struts, which buttressed the palisade from the inside.11
9 Pohl 1977, Cat. No. OHI:213, 57, figs 7, 10 and 49.

10 It was reinvestigated in 1999; see Karlsson 1999.
11 A similar arrangement with a channel and post holes at certain distances on the inside was found
at Bronze Age Troy in 1998, belonging to Troy II (2550–2250 BCE); Jablonka 1999, Abb. 18–19.

726 Lars Karlsson
1.2 Sorgenti della Nova
The excavations at this site from 1974 have uncovered a Proto-Villanovan settlement
with three different types of dwellings. Two of these are cave dwellings, but the third
consists of oval huts with cut channels with a three-aisled interior on three pairs of
posts (Fig. 39.2).12 They are oriented southwest-northeast. One of the huts measures
about 11 × 8 m.13
2 A restored Proto-Villanovan hut

The Proto-Villanovan hut was built standing in a bedrock-cut channel with a width
and a depth of about 10 cm. The plan was oval, but the short sides are flattened in
order to give to the hut as broad and as wide an interior as possible (Fig. 39.3). The hut
is normally oriented in a southwest-northeast direction with a door opening of about
60 cm in the southwest. The huts are large, measuring more than 10 m long and more
than 5 m wide, normally with a ratio between length and width of 2:1. The evidence
from Vitruvius and from the huts on the Roman campagna suggests that the walls
were built with upright standing props placed at short distances from each other.
The spaces between the props were filled with interwoven branches and twigs, and
covered with leaves. The evidence from the palisade channel of San Giovenale sug-
gests that the props could also be placed close together to form an impregnable “pali-
sade wall.” This made the walls stronger and prevented strong winds from blowing
through them.
The interior space was divided by two rows of three posts each into three aisles,
the central of which was the widest, at about 2 m. The three pairs of posts were placed
about 2.5 m from each other, giving the central higher space of the hut—the “clere-
story”—an open space of about 7.5 × 2 m.14 The first and last pair of interior posts
carried a horizontal beam, on which rested the hut’s front and back roof rafters. This
formed triangular openings in the hut’s roof, which allowed for smoke from the hearth
and braziers inside the hut to escape. The rafters on the long sides of the hut were tied
together in pairs and were probably not connected by means of a ridgepole, as many
hut urns show a convex roofline. The roof was covered by thatch, or an Italian weed
12 Negroni Catacchio and Domanico 2001, 341; Negroni Catacchio 1995.

13 Hut Ab. 2 in Settore III; Negroni Catacchio and Domanico 2001, 351.
14 The hut has a similar construction to wooden Norwegian stave churches, with their higher central
nave; see Storsletten 2001.

Fig. 39.2: Sorgenti della Nova. Elliptical Hut

Ab. 2 in Sector III (from Negroni Catacchio and
Domanico 2001, fig. 3)
Fig. 39.3: Restored view of a Proto-Villanovan hut. Note the standing logs placed
tightly together in the rock-cut channel (drawing by J. Blid Kullberg, 2011)

728 Lars Karlsson
called canne (reeds).15 In order to keep the material on the roof, wooden bars were
placed crossing at the apex of the roof.
3 The Villanovan period

The Villanovan huts, which can be found immediately below the Archaic settlements,
are often destroyed by the heavy leveling that was done for the stone foundations of
the Archaic houses. In Etruria, only segments of these oval or round huts have been
found.16 In this period some huts were still built with walls standing in cut channels
in the Proto-Villanovan way, but by the eighth century, huts on stone socles seem to
be the more common practice.
3.1 San Giovenale
Scattered traces of huts built on stone socles can be recognized at San Giovenale. In
Area F East, six segments of stone socles were recorded together with large amounts
of loose stones and pebbles from floor levels. In connection with these, Villanovan
pottery and a total of 363 daub fragments were found, many with impressions from
branches and twigs.17
In Area E, Oval Hut II was built on a level about 1 m higher than the Proto-Villano-
van Oval Hut I and was completely built with walls on a limestone rubble socle. Only
the western section of the hut was preserved. The diameter of the western rounded
end of the hut would have been about 6–7 m and its placement indicates that the hut
was oriented southwest-northeast. The floor consisted of tightly packed tufa chips
and pebbles. Clay was discovered on the limestone wall ring, and was interpreted as
disintegrated revetment daub with impressions of branches and twigs.18 On the floor
eighth-century pottery and a lid of an Italogeometric pyxis were found, indicating
15 Erixon 2001, 453f.

16 A good example comes from Fidenae, in Latium: see Bietti Sestieri and De Santis 2001, 212, with
further bibliography. The hut from the ninth century BCE has a rectangular plan with slightly convex
side walls and measures 6.20 × 5.20 m. It is surrounded by a wide oval ring of postholes, in which
posts were placed to support the eaves of the projecting roof. The hip roof would have been almost
oval in plan, continuously sloping down on all sides of the building. The walls were built up between
upright standing wooden props placed at intervals of about 70–80 cm. The thickness of the walls was
only about 20–25 cm. In the middle of the interior, four postholes, creating a wide square with sides
of about 2.2 m, indicate the supports for the roof.
17 Karlsson 2006, 125, 135.
18 Pohl 1977, 64.

that this hut may have remained in use into the Orientalizing period in the first part
of the seventh century.19
3.2 Cortona
A well-built stone socle of a curvilinear hut was found at Cortona on Via Vagnotti.20
The wall was almost a meter thick, indicating a very substantial hut. The large post-
holes in the interior must have been for supporting the roof—or rather, the central
higher section of the roof with the smoke holes.
3.3 Veii
The traces of huts under the altar area of the Portonaccio temple consist of two lines of
cut channels;21 one is an oval segment belonging to a hut with large postholes inside.
However, the other is almost straight and may have been a wooden palisade with a
line of supporting wooden props behind it, very similar to the situation on the Borgo
of San Giovenale. Furthermore, a segment of a similar hut with a cut channel and
postholes inside was found by the Northwest Gate.22 The possible four large postholes
inside reflect the typical Villanovan roof arrangement.
3.4 Caere
An eight-meter long oval channel was found under the temple at Sant’Antonio.23 It
ends in the southwest, indicating the entrance to the hut in this direction (cf. the huts
of San Giovenale). A large posthole outside suggests the existence of a porch.
3.5 Tarquinia
In the area called Calvario in Tarquinia, the excavations of 1975–1978 uncovered

traces of twenty-five huts. Of those that were better preserved, four had an oval plan
with three interior aisles, and seven had a rectangular plan. The excavator suggested
19 Pohl 1977, Cat. No. OHII:10, 25, 59, fig. 52.

20 Trotta 2001, 5–9; Fortunelli 2005, 59–61.
21 Colonna 2002, 146–147, figs. 6–7.
22 Ward Perkins 1959, figs. 5–6; more recently, van Kampen 2004, 25.
23 Izzet 1999–2000, 134–138.

730 Lars Karlsson
(probably correctly) that the rectangular huts are later, as they seemed to be aligned
with a street that later crossed one of the oval huts. I do not believe that the oval
and rectangular huts are contemporary and in this way reflect different functions.
The oval huts are dated to the beginning of the Villanovan period.24 One measures
10.5 × 5.6 m, with the largest measuring about 16.5 × 8.5 m (Fig. 39.4). They are oriented
southwest-northeast, with the doors opening on the shorter southwestern side (two
huts have a second door opening on the longer southern side).
The later rectangular huts are smaller than the oval huts, measuring about
8–9 × 4–5 m. One of the huts is furnished with two antae at the porch (in trench 33,
Fig. 39.4) and another hut has a ring of posts standing around the hut (in trench 14,
Fig. 39.4), characteristic traits of the Villanovan period. The interior has one row of
two posts, giving the hut two aisles.
3.6 Monteriggioni-Campassini
Three huts, dated to the second half of the eighth century BCE, were discovered in
Monteriggioni-Campassini in the 1980s and 90s. They are aligned east-west, measure
about 8 × 4.5 m, and are of an oval plan with somewhat rectilinear side sections
(Fig. 39.5).25 The interior space of the huts have been cut into bedrock and the walls
are built with posts standing in holes placed at a distance of about 1.6 m. The posts
are placed along the edges of the recessed interior space.26 The wattle-and-daub walls
would have stood partly between the posts and partly on the raised bedrock sur-
rounding the hut.
4 Hut urns
About 200 cinerary urns in the shape of huts have been found in Etruria and Latium.27
The majority of these hut urns (76%) have circular ground plans, 13% have oval plans,
and 11% have rectangular plans. Although they all date to the ninth–eighth centuries,
it is not possible to detect a development from one plan type to another.28
24 Linington 1982, 117; see also Bonghi Jovino 2001.

25 Bartoloni 2001, 361.
26 As seen e.g. in the hut on the Palatine in Rome, dated to the eighth century. It consists of a
rectangular deep cutting, creating the floor space, with outward-bowing sides. Along the edges of the
cut for the floor there are substantial postholes cut into the bedrock. One post stands in the center of
the hut, supporting the ridgepole.
27 See the corpus by Bartoloni et al. 1987 and Bartoloni 1998.
28 For a longer discussion, see Damgaard Andersen 2001, 246–248.

Fig. 39.4: Tarquinia. Plan of the huts in the Calvario excavation area (from Linington 1982, fig. 1).
39 Hut Architecture, 10th cent.-730 BCE
731
732 Lars Karlsson
Fig. 39.5: Monteriggioni-Campassini, hut C (from Bartoloni 2001, fig. 8)

Fig. 39.6: Bronze hut urn (photo SAR-Laz)
A well-known example comes from Vulci (Fig. 39.6). The plan of the hut is oval to
round, but it has a straight central roof section. The roof projects considerably over
the walls on all sides. The gable sides are set back from the short sides so that the
roof slopes down also in front of the gables, giving it the shape of a hip roof. Since
the central part of the roof is higher than the hipped sides, smoke holes are placed in
the triangular gable. The higher central part carries diagonal bars, which cross and
project beyond the ridgepole.
A terracotta hut from Tarquinia reflects the intricate decorations of the devel-
oped Villanova huts.29 The plan is rectangular, but with outward-bowing sides, as the
huts also show in reality. The smoke hole is rounded, indicating that the roof must
have been covered with plaster. The apex is decorated with molded horns and the
roof is painted with complicated Xs and cross compositions, as well as meander pat-
terns.
29 From Poggio Selciatello necropolis, tomb 45; Cristofani 1985, 50f.

734 Lars Karlsson
5 A restored Villanova hut

The interior of ninth- and eighth-century Greek colonial houses were often cut into
the bedrock.30 The huts also had a recessed interior in Etruria and Latium.31 Huts from
this period are not elongated ovals, but have a more compact plan, round or square
with outward-bowing sides. They would have measured about 6–8 m in length and
4–5 m in width.
The walls were built with standing posts anchored in the bedrock or in the stone
socle. The space between the posts was filled with interlaced twigs and branches
(wattle). Clay (daub) was then fixed on the twigs and leaves, and left to dry in the sun,
the technique being called “wattle-and-daub.” The surface was made smooth and
was then covered with plaster. The walls were often about 25 cm thick. Because the
clay and the plaster were sensitive to water and rain, roofs were made to project far
out over the walls. A “porch” was added on the west entrance side. Often the porch is
built under the projecting roof. In these cases, the entrance wall was set back to form
a space in front of the door. Roofs were heavier than before, as they were also covered
with sun-dried clay. The roof often rested on four large posts (instead of the six typical
of Proto-Villanovan construction). The posts went up to the roof and supported open-
ings, both in the front and in the back. As the roof was covered with clay, these smoke
openings were now shaped into round or oval windows. The thatch-covered roof was
crowned by wooden crossbars and decorated with birds. It is possible that in the early
huts, these roof rafters were crossed above the ridge of the roof, as can been seen in
some hut urns. In the more developed huts, the roof was probably so heavy that the
rafters did not continue through the roof, but were tied below the ridge. The thatch
was then held in place by separate crossbars.
Many hut urns have figural and meander motifs incised or painted on the exte-
rior walls of the building, and sometimes also on the roof. This is also evident on the
Greek house model from Argos, which is completely covered with decoration. In order
to paint the roof, the thatch would have to be covered with clay, which would dry in
the sun. Vitruvius describes this technical feature in Book II: “When in wintertime
the roofs could not withstand the rains, they made ridges and smearing clay down
the sloping roofs, they drew off the rain water.”32 The evidence supports the idea that
both the exterior walls and the roofs of the huts were painted, but many hut urns also
indicate plastic roof decorations in the form of birds/ducks. Are we to understand
them also as molded in clay and baked by the sun on the real hut? David Ridgway
and Francesca Romana Serra Ridgway argue that tiled roofs evolved out of the use of
30 This is seen in the early houses of Old Smyrna in Asia Minor, as well as at Leontinoi in Sicily.
31 Dugouts in the soil were discovered at Acquarossa. Eva Rystedt (2001) interprets them as dugouts
for huts.
32 Vitr. II.I.3 (transl. F. Granger, Loeb Classical Library).

sun-dried clay applied to the roof.33 However, Nancy Winter suggests that the akro-
teria in the shape of griffins and volutes appear only on seventh-century house urns
with terracotta tiled roofs, indicating that the later advanced terracotta akroteria did
not originate in forms sculpted in sun-dried clay, but may have originated in wooden
elements of the hut roof.34 This issue is complicated, but one clue may come from the
excavations of Area F East at San Giovenale, where ten fragments of bands of relief
cordon were discovered.35 They are made from a light dried mud rather than from clay.
This is possibly the material that Vitruvius writes about in his introduction (“drying
moistened clods”).36 I have suggested that these pieces are traces of the hut’s exterior
decoration. They are in the shape of cordons and are very similar to the cordons deco-
rating Archaic Etruscan kalypteres tiles and the apex of the Perachora house model.
6 The Orientalizing period

The remains of Villanovan huts are difficult to trace, but the evidence from the Ori-
entalizing period is even more difficult to find. A well-dated rectangular hut from
San Giovenale is the best example of a transitional building, pointing back to the
construction techniques of the Villanovan hut, but anticipating Archaic architectural
planning.
6.1 San Giovenale
The Orientalizing rectangular houses in San Giovenale can be found under the Archaic
ashlar-built houses. The pottery discovered on the river stone beds in House I in Area
F East date to the middle of the seventh century, or to around 675–625.37 The build-
ing is a rectangular hut, measuring in total 12 m (approximately forty ancient feet) in
length, which includes the front porch’s 3.8 m projection. The building has a width
33 Ridgway and Serra Ridgway 1994. I thank N. Winter for this reference.
34 On this issue, see also Colonna 1986.
35 Karlsson 2006, 135 (Cat. nos. 247, 274, 298 and 328; figs. 188, 211, 224 and 250).
36 H.M. Morgan (1914, 39) translates this passage as “lumps of dried mud.” Vitruvius uses forms of
the term luto, which in the Oxford Latin Dictionary (Oxford 2000) is translated “to cover with mud or
clay, daub.” It thus seems difficult to know whether Vitruvius means mud or clay when he talks about
this material.
37 The area was excavated in 1960–1965 and published in 2006. The pottery consisted of spiral
amphorae, buccheroid impasto and the so-called Faliscanizing kantharoi (see Karlsson 2006, 151).
The pottery is of the same types that were discovered in the Tomba della Capanna (Tomb of the
Thatched Roof) in Cerveteri, now dated to around 700 BCE: see Naso 2001, 35; Prayon 1990, 513, who
dates it to 680 BCE, and Prayon 2001; see also Boëthius 1968.

736 Lars Karlsson
of 5.9 m (twenty feet), which equates to a ratio between length and width of 2:1. The
foundation of the walls is cut out of bedrock and forms 0.45–0.55 m wide wall-bases.
These rock-cut wall-bases form antae on both the front and the back of the build-
ing, very similar to the plan of the cella in the early Doric temple. Postholes along
the upper surface of the wall-bases indicate that the upper parts of the walls were
built using a wattle-and-daub technique.38 Four large postholes in front of the build-
ing indicate a projecting porch. Large postholes outside the antae on the building’s
rear reflect the large postholes in the porch, between which ran a horizontal wooden
beam. Like the Villanovan hut, the interior of the house is recessed about 60 cm (two
feet). On the even bedrock floor in the main room, river stones were placed along the
three side walls forming beds with a width of ca. 1.25 cm. No roof tiles could be associ-
ated with the Orientalizing hut phase. The roof material must have been thatch.
A similar rectangular hut was found at the Northwest Gate in Veii in 1957–58. It
measures 11.40 × 5 m, and very closely reflects the size of House I in San Giovenale
with its 2:1 ratio between the house’s length and width. The pottery inside did not
include bucchero, suggesting a date in the second quarter to the middle of the seventh
century.39
The best parallel to the Orientalizing rectangular hut is the contemporary Cer-
veteri chamber tomb, the Tomba della Capanna.40 The main chamber of this tomb has
a rectangular plan. The ceiling is convex and reaches almost down to the benches
attached to the wall. The curved surface and the low-reaching roof suggest that the
model for the roof material was thatch. The main room has benches running around
the walls. The inner room has the same arrangement of benches, which were built
with smooth river stones, just as at San Giovenale.
Conclusion
The development from a large oval Proto-Villanovan hut placed in a cut channel—via
the compact Villanovan hut with substantial wattle-and-daub walls—to the rectilin-
ear hut of the Orientalizing period, built with traditional “hut materials” but on a new
plan took about 500 years. In the second half of the Orientalizing period, terracotta
roofs were introduced as well as quarried ashlar blocks in walls and foundations.
With the Archaic period, Etruria abandoned its prehistory and entered the architec-
tural koine of the Mediterranean world.
38 Thirty-eight daub fragments were found in House I, several with impressions of branches (see
Karlsson 2006, 147, fig. 272).
39 Ward Perkins 1959, 59; van Kampen, 26.
40 Boëthius 1968.

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38–79.

Cristiano Iaia
40 Handicrafts, 10th cent.-730 BCE
Abstract: This chapter illustrates the main fields of craft production in the area characterized by the
Villanovan culture (Etruria and adjacent areas) from the points of view of typological and techno-
logical developments. The sociopolitical and economic framework is that of incipient or embryonic
urbanization, the “proto-urban phenomenon,” that occurred between the late tenth and late eighth
centuries BCE.
Ceramics include handmade vessels (chiefly biconical funerary urns and their lids) ornamented
with geometric patterns in the Villanovan style, as well as more specialized vessels decorated with
metal stripes. Only in the advanced Early Iron Age 2 (eighth century) were wheel-made ceramics intro-
duced under the influence of immigrant Greek potters.
The best-known handicraft in Iron Age Etruria is bronze working, a productive field that encom-
passes a broad range of artifact classes and shapes. Indirect evidence from the study of artifacts attests
to specific stages in the metalworking process, demonstrating a high level of specialization and com-
plexity in the organization of labor. The great variability of formal features and techniques, and the
different levels of elaboration in Villanovan bronze production are exemplified by cast objects, such
as fibulae and weapons (swords), and by hammered items such as sheet bronze armor and vessels.
Sheet bronze production is considered particularly representative of the high level of Villanovan
craftsmanship and of the close connection between metalwork and the display expressions of new
elites within the proto-urban communities. It is also pointed out how iron production, though giving
the name to the period, did not become especially important in local economies before the mid eighth
century. Other minor materials, especially amber, gained great importance in the framework of elite
consumption and trade, which led to a highly sophisticated production of ornaments and symbolic
items in the latest stages of this period.
Keywords: Levant, Central Europe, elites, pottery, bronze
1 Pottery
Our overview on craftworks in late protohistoric Etruria begins with pottery, which
in quantitative terms is the main material category in the archaeological record. Gen-
erally speaking, and without a real distinction in technological and compositional
terms, in Etruria of the ninth and eighth centuries BCE, pottery vessels principally
comprised two classes of handmade impasto ware: coarse ware, including vessels for
daily domestic functions, such as cooking stands, bowls, jars, and dolia (very large,
wide-mouthed vessels without neck or handles)1, and a better-quality ware, encom-
passing a great range of ceramic forms from tableware to ritual paraphernalia. The
latter class is generally made of a dark burnished impasto, fired under a reducing
atmosphere.
1 Tamburini 1995.
740 Cristiano Iaia
In most cremation burials, and partly in non-burial contexts of the early stages
of Villanovan Etruria, mainly biconical cinerary urns and other related vessels (espe-
cially bowls with in-turned rims) can be found, with complex geometric decoration
made by impression, incision, and stamp (Fig. 40.1.1–3); this ornamentation follows a
limited range of variation which is universally referred to as the “Villanovan style.”2
This class of pottery cannot strictly be considered workshop production, but rather
should be labelled “semi-domestic” manufacture. Conversely, a more specialized
character is revealed by pottery ornamented with metal sheets (mainly tin) applied to
the sides using adhesives, employing a technique well known both north of the Alps
and in Italy since the late second millennium BCE. A class of vessels ornamented this
way, the orcioli a lamelle metalliche3, in all probability jugs or cups associated with
the consumption of liquids, has mainly been found in the principal centers of south-
ern Etruria as well as in Vetulonia and Populonia (Fig. 40.1.4); it shows recognizable
formal regularities, in particular homogeneous patterns of decoration.
We possess only limited information regarding technological aspects of Villano-
van ceramics: archaeometric studies are lacking, while a few data concern the use
of temporary firing installations in the form of “pit-kilns,” though with an internal
division into sectors.4 Sometimes—for instance at Bologna—such kilns are vertically
divided into a fire- and a cooking-chamber by using partition, perforated, floor;5 this
more sophisticated technical device might have improved the quality of the final
result in terms of surface homogeneity.
Not until the early Phase 2 of the Iron Age do we see in southern Etruria the start
of a much more varied pottery production. Specific issues are raised by the appear-
ance of numerous drinking vessels of the Greek Middle and Late Geometric ware,
mainly, but not exclusively, of Euboean production. The manufacture of the latter
was promptly imitated by immigrant potters, giving rise to a new class of wheel-made
painted tableware, including various types of skyphoi as well as other forms such as
jugs and cups.6 The introduction of wheel-made ceramics, though it did not really
lead to “mass production,” was conducive to greater diversity in the pottery craft,
influencing even the manufacture of the more widely consumed impasto pottery,
which from the second half of the eighth century was becoming more standardized
with the aid of the wheel.
2 De Angelis 2001; Gastaldi 1998.

3 Bartoloni and Delpino 1975.
4 Boitani, Neri and Biagi 2009.
5 Iaia 2009 with references.
6 Rizzo 2005 with references.

40 Handicrafts, 10th cent.-730 BCE 741
Fig. 40.1: Ceramics from Early Iron Age southern Etruria, Phase 1
(after De Angelis 2001, with modifications)
2 Bronze metallurgy
The scant evidence from Italian Early Iron Age settlements makes it very difficult to
provide a clear picture of the spatial organization of metal manufacture sequences.
This is particularly true for the vast so-called “proto-urban” sites, which were to
develop into cities during the seventh century.
In southern Etruria, only the minor settlement of Gran Carro near Bolsena, dating
around 900–850, has provided some evidence of small-scale metallurgical activities
in situ7 such as molds, bronze jets and droplets, and several finished objects made
7 Tamburini 1995.

742 Cristiano Iaia
of bronze and lead. They point to the existence, even in minor sites like this, of local
secondary production that ranged from tools to simple ornaments and fibulae.
Some findings from Felsina (Bologna) can help in reconstructing limited aspects
of the metalworking carried out in the proto-urban centers of Villanovan Etruria
during the second phase of the Early Iron Age. In the eighth century, Felsina was
a huge agglomeration containing several areas for different stages of metallurgical
production8. In this regard the most interesting, albeit indirect, evidence is the hoard
recovered in Piazza San Francesco, which comprises nearly 15,000 bronze objects
(and just three made of iron) deposited in a large jar around 700 BCE (but contain-
ing many objects from throughout the eighth century, and some that are older). This
outstanding accumulation of metal objects includes more than 4,000 axes9 and many
other tools, several fragments of weapons, horse gear, and sheet vessels. After the
tools, quantitatively the most impressive of all classes is the fibulae, numbering
more than 3,000 pieces. Particularly useful for the interpretation of this hoard are
the copper ingots and the great array of scrap metal, which also includes far older
objects (e.g. an Early Copper Age dagger of East European provenance),10 especially
unfinished bronze artifacts that had been thrown away and subsequently collected as
waste products.11 They evidence specific stages in the metalworking process, demon-
strating a high level of specialization and complexity in the organization of labor. The
ingots had been intentionally fragmented to form a stock for refining copper in the
smelting process, while fragmented objects were probably intended for recasting. The
latter procedure had great economic significance, because it allowed bronze crafts-
men to recycle an already existing bronze reserve without the necessity of gaining
new stocks of copper and tin.
2.1 Fibulae
In the field of metal ornaments and dress accessories, the main geographical areas
in which the Villanovan culture developed show some common features and many
local variations.
Bronze fibulae, found especially in female burials, were the most widespread
metal items linked to clothing from Bologna to the Villanovan centers of Campania.
The Villanovan workshops developed a particularly remarkable production of arch
bow fibulae with a spiral catch-plate made by hammering (Fig. 40.2.1),12 which toward
8 Taglioni 1999.
9 Carancini 1984.
10 Zimmermann 2007.
11 Antonacci Sampaolo et al. 1992.
12 Toms 2000, 98.

Fig. 40.2: 1–5. Bronze fibulae from Early Iron Age southern Etruria (1, 3 after
Falconi Amorelli 1966; 2 after Hencken 1968; 4–6 after Cavallotti Batchavarova 1967)
the end of Phase 1 was becoming solid, with complex incised decoration consisting
of geometrical motifs reminiscent of the Villanovan style of contemporary ceramics
(Fig. 40.2.2–3).13 The role of south Villanovan bronze workshops in improving and
enriching the manufacture of fibulae with a disc catch-plate is also apparent from a
specific class of fibulae with disc catch-plate and a composite bow with bronze grad-
uated discs (Figure 40.2.1), or of alternating bronze/amber/bone discs (Fig. 40.2.2),
whose shape resembles a leech.14 These kinds of fibulae, including a variety of spe-
13 Gastaldi 1998, 52.

14 Arancio, Moretti Sgubini and Pellegini 2010.

744 Cristiano Iaia
cific local types, are widely distributed across southern Etruria and in the Villanovan
centers of southern Campania (Pontecagnano, and especially Sala Consilina), with
more limited specimens outside
It was during Phase 2 that the manufacture of bronze fibulae in Etruria and nearby
areas saw remarkable growth in scale and quality. From the technological point of
view, whole casting of the bow of the fibula to a great extent replaced hammering,
at least as far as arch bow fibulae are concerned.15 The fibulae might have been cast
using either bivalve molds with an internal terra-cotta core, or the lost wax technique.
The result was a casting that was further refined through clearing, polishing, and the
adding of incised and engraved decorations.
As demonstrated by observations of casting wastes from the San Francesco hoard
at Bologna,16 this technique allowed metallurgists to create two fibulae at a time
and to reuse the same core for several additional castings of hollow pieces. A rarer
technique, not recognizable from simple naked-eye observation of finished objects,
was lost wax casting, which was particularly suitable for pieces including plastic or
deeply engraved decoration.17
Such techniques, except the lost wax technique that yields single pieces, greatly
enhanced the speed and economic effectiveness of manufacture, allowing develop-
ment toward a sort of mass-production of fibulae. At the same time, craft intensifi-
cation and quantitative increase in producing these daily items were complemented
by a tendency toward experimentation and inventiveness that was, in turn, favored
by the start of processes of centralization within incipient urbanism. Indeed, at the
transition between Phase 1 and Phase 2, the bronze workshops of Etruria seem to have
elaborated new forms of fibulae that would be widely appreciated in the subsequent
Orientalizing period throughout Italy and beyond, the “leech” bow fibulae. Beginning
in the middle of Phase 2, their manufacture, with either a solid or a hollow bow, was
particularly abundant and varied. They include complex decorative patterns showing
panels with zigzags and concentric circles that were for the most part made before
casting, with the aid of tools such as gravers or punches (Fig. 40.2.4–6). The manufac-
ture must have been in series, as indicated by the numerous sets of fibulae of varying
size but with identical or very similar shape and decoration.18
15 Follo 1992; Toms 2000.

16 Follo 1992.
17 Lehoërff 2007, 182.
18 Peroni 1966.

2.2 Bronze swords
Another important category of metallic production in Villanovan Etruria is bronze

swords. Among the large class of flange-hilted swords (Ger. Griffzungenschwerter),
Early Iron Age Etruria especially adopted the “Italic” T-hilt swords, very short weapons
whose general shape derives from types of Late Bronze Age date.19 During the late
Phase 1 and early Phase 2, “Pontecagnano” type swords played a special role. Found
especially in southern Etruria (Tarquinii, Vulci) and Pontecagnano in Campania,
these weapons have a triangular blade with fine incised decoration and in most cases
were accompanied by finely decorated bronze sheaths (Pontecagnano type sheaths),
a feature almost exclusive to the “Italic” flange-hilted swords (Fig. 40.3.1–3).20 As a
rule, the front face of these objects presents incised figural scenes, representing in the
main field a man armed with a lance in the act of hunting various animals, such as
red deer or boars (Fig. 40.3.2–3). According to Patrizia Gastaldi,21 the Pontecagnano
swords and the associated sheaths are to be attributed to a workshop located at Pon-
tecagnano itself, where the earliest example of this type is documented.
2.3 Sheet bronze working
Sheet bronze manufacture, including highly elaborate objects made of laminated

bronze, such as elements of armor, belts, and prestige vessels, is no doubt the most
developed and distinctive craft category in Etruria and nearby regions during the Vil-
lanovan period. A point worth considering is that this kind of craft requires complex
division of labor and the existence of a wealthy elite to be fully supported. Because of
the high skill level, the remarkable time consumption, and the substantial quantity
of raw material that this craft requires, the sheet bronze industries in Early Iron Age
Italy chiefly emerged in situations of rapid upsurge of proto-urban centers, especially
in southern Etruria and at Bologna, with increasing intensity beginning in the eighth
century.
In the late tenth and the ninth centuries, prior to the introduction of bronze shields
and breastplates, the helmet was the only category of metal armor known in Etruria
and throughout Italy. The earliest examples of bronze helmets, found at Tarquinii and
Populonia, dating to both early and late Phase 1, are akin to the central European
class known as Glockenhelme, or glockenförmige Helme mit gegossenem Scheitelknauf
(rounded bell helmets with cast knobs; Fig. 40.3.4).22 Much more sophisticated was
19 Bianco Peroni 1970; Bietti Sestieri and MacNamara 2007.

20 Bianco Peroni 1970.
21 Gastaldi 1998, 42.
22 Hencken 1971, 4; Iaia 2005, 47; see chapter 44 Iaia.

746 Cristiano Iaia
Fig. 40.3: 1. Pontecagnano type sword, from Pontecagnano; 2.–3. Pontecagnano type sheaths from
Pontecagnano and Tarquinii; 4. Round bell helmet from Populonia; 5. hemispherical helmet from
Tarquinii (1.–2. after Gastaldi 1998; 3. after Hencken 1968; 4.–5. after Iaia 2005)

the production, by the latest part of Phase 1, of hemispherical bronze helmets, entirely
covered with rich geometric decoration (Fig. 40.3.5). Strictly speaking, they should be
considered ceremonial headgear for outstanding individuals rather than defensive
armor. The decorative patterns, organized into square or metope-like panels, include
a mixture of Sun-ship bird motifs that belong to the Late Bronze age iconographic
repertoire (see chapter 44 Iaia), and other cultic symbols, such as the solar disk, and
were created with repoussé and stamp techniques.
The most refined of all types of armor in Etruria were the bronze crested helmets
with pointed cap,23 which are probably an innovation by the Villanovan metal-
workers of southern Etruria (Fig. 40.4.1–2). From the beginning (possibly around
850 BCE), they were constructed by overlapping two separate halves made of sheet
bronze and riveting them together. Elements intended to hide the fastening-points,
such as the two rectangular plates with protruding false rivets placed on the fore-
head and the back, were transformed into ornamental additions; some workshops,
probably at Tarquinii, would decorate them with stamped ornaments in the form
of concentric circles.24 In the course of time, apparently during the eighth century,
the embossed decoration on the cap and crest developed from simple geometric
patterns to a sort of “baroque” style, with the addition of stamped circles symbol-
izing the sun (Ring-buckel) and the inclusion of the iconography of the Sun-ship
bird (Fig. 40.4.2).25
The second most important element of armor in Villanovan sheet bronzecraft
was the shield, which was especially intended for ceremony and display. The first
type to appear was the “double-eight” or Ancile shield, known in only a few exem-
plars, from Norchia, Veii, and Bisenzio.26 It consisted of two separate round shields
linked together by a third long sheet, using a complex fastening system. All the ele-
ments were richly decorated with repoussé ornaments resembling those of the crested
helmets, and accompanied by round breastplates decorated in the same way.27
Around 800–770, simple round shields made of a single sheet of bronze appeared, as
a rule decorated with embossed ornaments (Fig. 40.4.3). This innovation was accom-
panied by the increased development, especially during the second half of the eighth
century, of large decorated items (up to 0.90–1.00 m in diameter) of exceptionally thin
(ca. 1 mm) bronze sheets. They became the most typical symbols of power in warrior
burials of the eighth century. Their manufacture seems to have been concentrated in
23 Hencken 1971; von Hase 1988; Iaia 2005.

24 Iaia 2005, 66.
25 Kilian 1977; von Hase 1988; Iaia 2005, 88.
26 Colonna 1991; Geiger 1994; Iaia 2005.
27 Colonna 1991.

748 Cristiano Iaia
Fig. 40.4: 1–2. Bronze crested helmets from southern Etruria; 3. bronze shield from Veii,
tomb Quattro Fontanili AA1 (1–2 after Iaia 2005; n. 3 after Franco et al. 1970)
southern Etruria, but the distribution of identical examples over a wider area, includ-
ing Verucchio north of the Appenines, points to the existence of traveling smiths who
brought the technique far from the original source.28
28 Iaia 2005, 264.

The first bronze vessels of Villanovan manufacture can be found in the ninth
century. They are numerically limited, though technically remarkable; they include
ceremonial vessels such as small cups, conical bowls, and incense burners. Around
800 BCE or slightly earlier, the hammered bronze products of southern Etruria and
Bologna improved considerably in quality and elaboration of manufacture. Stillfried-
Hostomice cups (Fig. 40.5.4), great cinerary urns of biconical shape (Fig. 40.5.1), and
necked amphorae on a Central European model appear in wealthy burials of members
of the proto-urban aristocracy.29 These vessels were ornamented by embossing with
elaborate patterns including “bird-boats” and solar motifs (Fig. 40.5.1–2), such as we
have already seen in hemispherical and crested helmets; they mark the progress of
metalwork toward a level of quality never attained in earlier phases (at least in con-
tinental Italy).
Around the decades 760–720, stamped motifs made by punching were becoming
more widespread in the production of laminated bronze in southern Etruria. Some-
times these elements were organized into concentric patterns to adapt them to the
shape of the decorated item.30 Workshop manufacture began in this area. It included
different classes of artifacts, from armor to vases, linked to consumption by a fully
developed aristocracy. In particular, some highly specialized workshops located
at Veii and Vulci produced shields, belts, and vessels (necked amphorae, flasks:
Fig. 40.5. 6–7), all decorated with stamped motifs representing horses.31
Another important category of sheet bronze objects, elliptical belt plates, has its
origins in southern Etruria.32 These are fine elements of jewelry, found as part of the
ceremonial clothing in wealthy female grave-groups throughout Phase 2, especially
at Veii, Tarquinii, Vulci, and to a lesser extent at minor centers. A different product,
though closely connected to southern Etruria, is known during the eighth century at
Felsina and Verucchio, from where it was probably later transmitted to some areas of
northern Italy.33 Very specific to these objects is the ornamentation, including mainly
figural motifs and geometric frames, which were realized principally by engraving
and secondarily by embossing (Fig. 40.7.1). They follow a rigid decorative scheme that
can be seen as a clear cosmological representation, according to traditional Urnfield
iconography: nine relief bosses in the middle of the belt are flanked by bird-boat
motifs or, more likely, by allusions to the wagon of the sun pulled by birds, a fact also
highlighted by the use of solar elements ambiguously referring to wheels.
29 Jockenhövel 1974; Iaia 2005; see chapter 44 Iaia.

30 Marzoli 1989; Geiger 1994; Iaia 2005.
31 Marzoli 1989; Geiger 1994.
32 de Marinis 1999, 605; Zipf 2006 with references.
33 de Marinis 1999.

750 Cristiano Iaia
Fig. 40.5: Bronze vessels from burial contexts of southern Etruria, Early Iron Age phases 1–2
(after Iaia 2005)
3 Iron metallurgy
Contrasting with the use of bronze, the Early Iron Age in Italy cannot be defined prop-
erly as an “age of iron” before late Phase 2, or the eighth century. This is particularly
true in Etruria, a region with plenty of metal resources in its northern-central portion;
in fact, at the moment there is no clear evidence of systematic working of the famous

deposits of iron ore on the island of Elba near the coast of Tuscany, at least before the
seventh century.34
During the Early Iron Age Phase 1, iron objects in Villanovan contexts are very
restricted, although with variable numbers per site. In Etruria proper, the only center
with adequate evidence is Tarquinii,35 where iron objects belong to two categories,
serpentine bow fibulae of the “Sicilian” or “southern” type (Fig. 40.6.3) and swords,
suggesting a close link of this material with manifestations of male status. The iron
swords are mainly of the “Italic” T-hilted shape akin to many bronze examples
(Fig. 40.6.2), and a similar situation can be detected at Pontecagnano in southern
Campania.36 By contrast, the other important Villanovan center of southern Cam-
pania, Sala Consilina, where swords and fibulae could frequently be made of iron,
seems more influenced by the Oenotrian area (Calabria and Basilicata).37 Hence,
at the beginning of the first millennium BCE, across most of Italy (maybe with the
exception of Calabria) iron was employed chiefly as a precious and unusual material,
and the quantitative scale of its impact on local exchange systems and economy was
weak.38 Artifacts tended to imitate the shapes of the dominant bronze objects and
were probably manufactured by bronzeworkers.
This situation was partly reversed during the decades 770–720. From this period
on, the wider adoption of iron weapons (mainly spears, daggers, and knives) seems
to be strictly linked to the emergence of a complex military organization, as is sug-
gested by the different combinations of weapons in burials.39 This was, possibly, a
much more effective response to the growing importance of warfare and concerns
for territoriality. Furthermore, there are important indications that during the eighth
century the role of iron was becoming pivotal in the practical and economic fields
too. An interesting novelty was the spread of iron tools, such as knives, chisels, and
axes,40 documented in some male and female burials, particularly in Campania
around 750–730. There, most tools and offensive weapons were made of iron, even
reflecting cultural influences from the southernmost peoples of Italy41 and from the
Greek immigrants.
34 Corretti and Benvenuti 2001. See chapter 26 Corretti.

35 Hartmann 1982, 65–75.
36 D’Agostino and Gastaldi 1988; Gastaldi 1998.
37 Kilian 1970; Gualtieri 1977, 218.
38 Hartmann 1982.
39 Pacciarelli 2001.
40 Iaia 2006.
41 Gualtieri 1977.

752 Cristiano Iaia
Fig. 40.6: 1. Bronze belt from Veii; 2. iron sword with bronze sheath from Sala Consilina;
3. iron serpentine fibula from Tarquinii (1. after Bartoloni and Pandolfini 1972;
2. after Kilian 1970; 3. after Hencken 1968)
4 Other materials
Although the bronze metallurgy of Early Iron Age Etruria has attracted most of the
interest of scholars, other materials attested in burial contexts deserve attention. They
can be labeled “precious materials,” connected to long-distance trade and highly spe-
cialized production, and their consumption took place mainly in the context of elite
display. Gold objects are very rare in early Villanovan burials: from ninth-century

southern Etruria a few solid gold fibulae, and more common bronze fibulae wrapped
with gold wire, are known.42 Much more widespread are bronze items gilded with
golden foil, such as the circular sheet pendants called bullae, a kind of ornament well
attested in female and child burials of the late ninth to the eighth centuries especially
at Tarquinii and Veii.43 The same technique was used in manufacturing the thin geo-
metrical bronze sheets, gilded with gold leaf and provided with embossed decora-
tion, found at Tarquinii in the wealthy warrior tombs Impiccato 1 and 2: their function
was evidently the lavish decoration of an element of clothing.44 It was not before the
second half of the eighth century that more elaborate gold objects, such as beads with
granulated decoration and serpentine or draco fibulae, were manufactured, under
the increasing influence of Oriental metallurgical traditions.
It is impossible to completely understand the significance of amber in the Iron
Age without considering its enormous importance as the exotic material par excel-
lence during the preceding period, the Bronze Age.45 After some decades of decreasing
imports of raw materials and production of amber ornaments, following the abandon-
ment of the main Late Bronze Age transit point for the amber trade in Europe, Frat-
tesina di Fratta Polesine (Veneto), this material again assumed a considerable role
toward the late ninth and especially in the eighth century during the emergence of
proto-urban centers in Etruria and adjacent areas. The northern center of Verucchio,
in Romagna, has universally been considered the main mediator of the north Adriatic
amber trade in Italy in the Early Iron Age, although its most substantial manufac-
ture of amber objects did not start before the mid eighth century.46 Previously, some
innovative amber workshops were located in southern Etruria, for example at Veii,47
where since the start of Phase 2 some fibulae with a disc catch-plate had had the
leech-shaped bow assembled from amber and bone segments, sometimes with gold
inserts.48 During the same century, the repertoire of amber elements in very complex
necklaces for women, complemented with metal and glass items, was becoming
much more varied: it included not only simple beads, but also more elaborate forms,
such as drop and trapezoidal pendants, animal and anthropomorphic figurines, etc.49
During the second half of the eighth and the early seventh centuries, Verucchio
may have emerged, though only for a brief period, as the most important center for
manufacturing amber objects in Europe. Judging from the rich funerary evidence,
their local consumption was not restricted to the higher echelons of society. They
42 Cristofani and Martelli 1983, 26–28.

43 Cristofani and Martelli 1983, 30–31.
44 Cristofani and Martelli 1983, 30.
45 Bellintani 2004.
46 Forte 1994; Boiardi et al. 2006.
47 Setti 1998.
48 Cristofani and Martelli 1983, 28, fig. 3.
49 Setti 1998; Boiardi et al. 2006, fig. 6.

754 Cristiano Iaia
Fig. 40.7: Objects from Verucchio, partly made of amber (after Forte 1994 with modifications)
included a wide range of elements, from items for individual adornment made entirely
of amber to ornamental additions on metallic and pottery vessels, bronze weapons,
horse trappings, and various symbolic tools.50 The only Etruscan center which in the
same period appears to match Verucchio in this field is Vetulonia.51 A major contri-
bution of the Verucchio workshops, from the technological point of view, seems to
have been the introduction of carved amber objects, such as openwork pectorals and
spindles. Furthermore, quite typical of the same workshops is a great variety of excep-
tionally elaborated multi-material fibulae, including many kinds of insertions, with
painted internal decoration as well (Fig. 40.7.).52
50 Forte 1994; Boiardi et al. 2006.

51 Cygielman and Pagnini 2006, 146.
52 Boiardi et al. 2006.

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Marco Pacciarelli
41 Society, 10th cent.-730 BCE
Abstract: The Early Iron Age (EIA) protourban centers of Etruria were formed nearly at the same
time, and in relation to each other. Accompanying their formation was the development of a common
culture, which is best known archaeologically from the funerary ritual and style of tomb goods in the
“Villanovan” cemeteries. The most significant and common cultural feature of the so-called Villano-
van archaeological facies is the cinerary urn with high convex neck and rounded shoulder, and with a
well-delimited range of comb-incised geometrical decorations. The urn is usually covered by a bowl,
or, in a part of the male graves, by a helmet-shaped pottery lid. It is not a coincidence that the highest
occurrence of this ritualistic/stylistic “code” has been found at Tarquinia, probably the epicenter of
the protourban and “Villanovan” revolution (in consonance with the complexity of the topographic
organization, and also with some Etruscan legends, like those regarding the national heroes Tarchon
and Tages). In some way, the Villanovan cultural koine—albeit not precisely a unitarian culture in
every respect—foreshadows the construction of a new identity, in connection with the radical geopo-
litical reorganization that determined the birth of the major communities of Etruria.
Keywords: Iron Age Etruria, protourban communities, process of urbanization, early Rome
1 The protourban communities and the Villanovan

cultural koine
The Early Iron Age (EIA) protourban centers of Etruria were formed nearly at the same
time, and in relation to each other.1 Accompanying their formation was the develop-
ment of a common culture, which is best known archaeologically from the funerary
ritual and style of tomb goods in the “Villanovan” cemeteries. The most significant
and common cultural feature of the so-called Villanovan archaeological facies2 is the
cinerary urn with high convex neck and rounded shoulder, and with a well-delimited
range of comb-incised geometrical decorations (metopae or N-motifs on the shoulder,
and meanders or triangles on the neck).3 The urn is usually covered by a bowl, or, in
some of the male graves, by a helmet-shaped pottery lid.4 It is not a coincidence that
the highest occurrence of this ritualistic/stylistic “code” is to be recognized at Tar-
quinia5 (Fig. 41.1), probably the epicenter of the protourban and “Villanovan” revolu-
1 See Pacciarelli 2001 for a complete analysis and interpretation of the data. See also chapter 33
Pacciarelli.
2 Bartoloni 1989.
3 Bettelli and Di Pillo 2000; De Angelis 2001.
4 Iaia 1999a.
5 Iaia and Pacciarelli 2012.
Fig. 41.1: Sample of villanovan cinerary urns from the cemetery of Le Rose at Tarquinia,
showing a significant stylistic convergence (after Iaia and Pacciarelli 2012)

41 Society, 10th cent.-730 BCE 761
tion (in consonance with the complexity of the topographic organization,6 and also
with some Etruscan legends, like those regarding the national heroes Tarchon and
Tages). In some way, the Villanovan cultural koine—albeit not precisely a really uni-
tarian culture in every respect—foreshadows the construction of a new identity, in
connection with the radical geopolitical reorganization that determined the birth of
the major communities of Etruria.
The development of protourban sites in Etruria had its origins in later Final Bronze
Age (FBA phase 3),7 and really took off at the beginning of the EIA. This process also
influenced events in other regions. In Campania, the three great EIA centers of Capua,8
Pontecagnano9 and Sala Consilina10 seem to have been directly inspired by the “Vil-
lanovan” model, not only in terms of material culture (although they have their own
versions of main artifact classes, which implies that they were strongly rooted in local
traditions), but also at least in part in terms of their size (though there are some differ-
ences, to be seen in the presence, in the first phases, of some distinct settlement areas).
A high demographic consistency may also be deduced for Bologna.11 In the first
phase of the EIA, the population was distributed in some distinct villages, each with
its own necropolis. During the second phase, around 750 BCE, an enormous (180 hec-
tares) fortified center was founded, marking the beginning of the urban community
of Felsina (modern-day Bologna).
Other communities outside Etruria showing clear Villanovan features—especially
in the earliest phases—are Verucchio,12 near Rimini, characterized in the decades
around 700 BCE by a richness likely tied to its control of the amber trade, and of
Fermo,13 in the Marche region.
2 Revolutionary social, economic and political

changes between the FBA and EIA, connected
with the formation of protourban centers
Unfortunately, we know relatively little of the FBA necropolises. It seems that in
Etruria, however, at least from FBA phase 3, the cemeteries have groups of tombs
6 Mandolesi 1999.
7 Negroni Catacchio 1987; Pacciarelli 1989–90; 2001.
8 Johannowsky 1983; Melandri 2011, with bibliography.
9 d’Agostino and Gastaldi 1988; De Natale 1992; Gastaldi 1998.
10 Kilian 1970; Trucco 1994; Ruby 1995.
11 Sassatelli 1999; Taglioni 1999; Ortalli 2008; Malnati 2010.
12 von Eles 1999; 2002.
13 Peroni 1992; Drago Troccoli 2003; Montali 2006.

containing both male and female burials (e.g. in the cemetery of Poggio della Pozza at
Allumiere, on the Tolfa Hills), and perhaps already representing family groups. At the
same time a major role has been played by warriors, marked in Etruria by the common
use of helmet-shaped pottery urn lids.14
This evidence from the FBA is sparse but suggests that the communities were
in flux before the development of protourban societies. Such a transition must have
been the product of changes over a long period.
Developments during the Bronze Age include the formation of a warrior elite as
well as a more general process of economic change—clearly visible, for example, in
agricultural and craft production—linked to the activity of the productive classes.
This is evident within communities in which the traditional links based on extended
kinship, reciprocity and “tribal” egalitarianism must have been weakened by the
development of new forms of economic exchange based on weighed metal, individual
accumulation, and relationships of subordination cultivated by the emerging elites.15
The modification of the economic structure was interwoven with changes in socio-
political relations that were linked to developments in warfare and related activities.
Unfortunately, the data for this are scarce. However, considering the data for
peninsular Italy, during the course of the FBA, the diffusion of long spearheads is
linked with a progressive shortening and decrease in the importance of the sword,
which presupposes the transition to a form of combat based on ranks of warriors
with spears.16 While individual skills and knowledge were still important, this type of
combat placed a premium on group coordination and organization.
A number of elements provoked a spiral of changes, some gradual, some probably
“revolutionary.” These elements included 1) the emergence of increasingly complex
families (probably because the families began to contain members in subordinate
positions) with greater autonomy and productive capacity; 2) tensions over access to
land; 3) political and military organizations ideologically based on equality and the
inclusion of a wide sector of the population and various communities; 4) the resulting
transformations in the nature of power, which increasingly tended to be more shared
and “public”; and the ideological implications of this.
This socio-political restructuring—dating to the later FBA and crystallizing with
the beginning of the EIA—led to a marked weakening or cancellation of the resid-
ual privileges and “personal” powers of the previous elites, and to the formation of
societies entirely structured around the community of the warriors, the populus (as it
was called in ancient Rome). The warrior class was organized in egalitarian groups,
presumably at least in part via forms of political collegiality, and via associations of
intermediate level between the individual household and the protourban commu-
14 Pacciarelli 2001; Iaia 2005.


nity. A subdivision of the latter into minor groups is demonstrated by the existence
of several cemeteries, often characterized by a specific identity in the ritual.17 These
groups, constituted by several families, are probably something similar to the curiae
of early Rome. These were fundamental social units, responsible for assuring the mili-
tary recruitment, the organization of the assemblies (Lat. comitia curiata), and prob-
ably also the framework of economic cooperation necessary for the flourishing of the
warrior class.
Some of the changes described above also took place in other regions. In Calabria,
significant new settlements were established, such Torre Galli, which is situated on
the edge of the Poro plateau, a location that allowed direct access to arable land and
control of maritime trade routes. At the cemetery of Torre Galli, dated to the phase 1 of
the EIA, we see the clearest new organization, based on the widespread diffusion of
the role of warrior in the male population, and on the generalized use of the spear.18
The main epicenter of the protourban development was southern Etruria, partly
because of its abundant natural resources and favorable geography. Possibly already
in the FBA, trade, economic, political and military processes existed, focused on sites
such as Tarquinia and Vulci. These are situated on large plateaus near river mouths
on the Tyrrhenian coast, an area that from the FBA developed long distance maritime
trade involving Sardinia.19 Already by FBA phase 3, but especially in the EIA1, there
is evidence along the coast of the intensification of the production of salt or salted
goods.20
Changes in the forms of use and possess of the land may also be hypothesized.
According to Renato Peroni and Giovanni Colonna,21 it has been thought that the
“extensive” occupation of these protourban centers in Etruria (on large defensible
and cultivable plateaus) could have been linked to the allotment of each landowner’s
land.22 However, it is obvious that these lots, like the bina iugera of early Rome, must
have been quite small, being sufficient only for basic subsistence. They were, there-
fore, integrated by the lands (probably partly private and partly public) in the sur-
rounding territory.
18 Pacciarelli 1999; 2001.
19 Giardino 1995.
20 Pacciarelli 2001, 170–76, with bibliography. See also Pacciarelli 2009, footnote 34.
21 Peroni 1969; 1989; 1994; 1996; Colonna 1985; 1986.
22 Pacciarelli 1989–90.

3 Evidence from the Villanovan cemeteries

in the first phase of the Early Iron Age (EIA1)
Analysis of the types of interments and of the spatial arrangement of the Tyrrhenian
EIA1 cemeteries allow us to reconstruct some of the main aspects of social structure.
The clearest and most generalized distinction is that of gender. The male graves
contained a razor and signs of a warrior role, including weapons (mainly a spear-
head and, more rarely, a sword) and sometimes defensive (or symbolic) armor, like
the frequent helmet-shaped pottery lids. These elements are never found in the
female graves, which instead contain utensils tied to spinning (pottery spindle-whorl
and sometimes bronze spindle or distaff) and weaving (bobbins), and several types
of ornaments. The most common are fibulae (those with a serpentine bow are only
common in male tombs), hair coils, necklaces (with beads made of glass, amber,
metal, stone, bone, etc.), and bracelets (which are sometimes also associated with
men).
The differences in wealth and rank—emerging mainly in later phases of the EIA—
are signaled for the men by complex weaponry (sword, and especially bronze helmet,
and later pectoral and shield); for the women by precious ornaments (in amber, gold
and silver) and a bronze girdle; and for both genders by metal vases, horse bits and
chariot parts, metal spits and firedogs, and precious amulets (often of faïence).
In some cases, the funerary area is structured as a single unit, not clearly divided
into separated family groups, as it seems at Tarquinia-Villa Bruschi, an important cem-
etery almost wholly excavated by Flavia Trucco. In this case, the social unit reflected
in the cemetery was probably something similar to a Latin curia or to a Greek ghenos.
In other cases, we clearly see a division of the funerary space into small clusters
of tombs, clearly relating to families. Inside these, there is usually a couple of tombs—
one female and one male—with more significant grave-groups. When these clusters
last for more than one archaeological phase, it is possible to recognize a principal
couple for each phase. This is the case of the burial group of Bisogno at Pontecag-
nano. At this site there is a principal male tomb for each phase—the earliest phase
IA features a razor; the latest IA features a helmet-shaped pottery lid; IB features a
sword—and also one or two female graves with a parure of ornaments more complex
than average.23
In some cemeteries, we see small family clusters put together to form a larger
group (an extended family or a descent group similar to a gens?), such as the two
large collections of tombs in the Sant’Antonio cemetery at Pontecagnano.24 In this
case there is only one tomb with a sword per major group.

The cemetery Le Rose at Tarquinia of the phase 1 of the EIA, also contains family
clusters, each centered on a pair of tombs placed close together. There is a male
tomb with a pottery helmet (often also with a stone receptacle and small vases) and
a female tomb with a more-complex-than-average set of objects (spindle whorl, hair
coil, and one to three fibulae)25.
The transition to a social structure in which the family unit began to play a key
role happened simultaneously with the geo-political restructuring at the beginning of
the EIA. At this stage, the family structure is generally complex and already similar to
the familia or oikos of the historical period. Renato Peroni sees this as an important
transition, and one that is characteristic of his protourban communities.26
4 Signs of a hierarchy at the beginning of the Iron

Age at Tarquinia and other protourban centers
The existence of a complex politico-military hierarchy is to be recognized at Tar-
quinia, where all the most complex tomb-groups of EIA1 come from the necropolis at
Arcatelle. The richest male tombs comprise signs of high politico-military status, such
as the bronze helmets—three with apex and one of the crested type—along with horse
bits in one tomb, and in another case sword, spearhead, bronze vases and fibula with
wrapped gold wire (Fig. 41.2). Two complex female burials of EIA1 from Arcatelle
yielded particular metal vases. In one of these grave-groups there is an exceptional
symbolic bronze wagon (Fig. 41.3—certainly a cult item—in the form of a horned bird
(another horned head is on the lid), and in another a silver pyxis. The latter grave is
also rich in ornaments, comprising forty-one fibulae (one of which is made of gold),
a number never found in EIA1 graves, and an amber and glass necklace. These data
indicate that the Arcatelle cemetery, at least in EIA1, must have been used by the
leading group—a chiefly ghenos?—in the community.27
Other Villanovan centers may also have had a similar hierarchy. At Populonia,
for example, the high status tombs are circular dry-stone chambers under tumuli; the
tomb-goods from one included two bronze helmets.28
26 Peroni 1989; 1994; 1996.
27 Iaia 1999b; Pacciarelli 2010; Iaia and Pacciarelli 2012.
28 Bartoloni 2003, 57–63; for the helmets see Iaia 2005.

Fig. 41.2: Tarquinia, cemetery of Arcatelle: part of grave goods from a male tomb
of the first phase of Early Iron Age (after Iaia and Pacciarelli 2012)

Fig. 41.3: Tarquinia, cemetery of Arcatelle: exceptional ritual bronze

vessel from a female tomb of the first phase of Early Iron Age.
(after Hencken 1968)
5 Development of a stratified society during

the second phase of the Early Iron Age (EIA2)
The development of different levels of wealth and rank began with the formation of
the protourban centers, and accelerated sharply during EIA2, as can be seen by the
different categories (Figs. 41.4–6) of tombs from the cemetery of Quattro Fontanili at
Veii.29 The tombs not only reveal “horizontal” divisions by role and gender, but also
marked “vertical” distinctions of social rank. The latter includes individuals of both
genders and all age classes from elders to infants, and thus social status during EIA2
seems to have been regularly acquired via inheritance.
The males of the highest rank are represented by the category of corredo A, sub-
divided in the two sub-categories: A1 and A2. In the burials of the first, there are a
sword and a pair of spearheads, along with prestige objects like metal vases, spits—
obviously tied to the sphere of the meat-based banquet—and often a pair of horse bits
and sometimes also pieces of a chariot). Burials of the second category is composed
29 Analyzed in Pacciarelli 2001, chapter 6. About aristocratic society in Iron Age Veii see also
Bartoloni et al. 1997; De Santis 2005; Drago Troccoli 2005.

Fig. 41.4: Veii, Quattro Fontanili necropolis (mainly EIA2): high rank male grave-groups. A: t. EE10B,
aged ca. 40 (category A1); B: t. HH 6–7, two children (category A2) (after Pacciarelli 2001)

Fig. 41.5: Veii, Quattro Fontanili necropolis (mainly EIA2): high rank female grave-groups.
A: t. KK 10–11, aged 25 (category B); B: t. JJ 17–18, adult and child (category C); C: t. EE 7–8B,
aged 3–4 (category D) (after Pacciarelli 2001)

Fig. 41.6: Veii, Quattro Fontanili necropolis (mainly EIA2): low rank grave-groups (A–B, males;
C–D: females). A: t. Z9, aged 15–19 (category E); B: t. GG14–15, aged 1 (category F); C: t. JJ8, aged
ca. 50 (category H); D: t. KK 13–14, aged 3–4 (after Pacciarelli 2001)
mostly by infants and young males, buried with a small spearhead and some prestige
items similar to those of A1 graves.
The most complex male corredi comprises two chiefly burials: tombs AA1 and
Z15A. These are characterized by a sheet bronze cinerary urn and other metallic vases,
a crested helmet and other exceptional pieces of bronze armor, like a shield in AA1
and a pectoral in Z15A, along with many other prestige items. Because of their high
status—and considering the different chronology (Judith Toms’ phase IIB for AA1, IIC
for the other)30—these males were likely chiefs of the whole community (ghenos or
curia?) that used the Quattro Fontanili cemetery, during the middle decades of the
eighth century (approximately between 790/770 and 740/720 BCE).
30 Toms 1986.

High-ranking adult females (category B) have corredi including thread spools,

amber necklaces, gold and silver ornaments, bronze girdles, distaff and vases, and
sometimes horse bits. The mostly female high-status infant graves (category D) have
a spiral bracelet and personal ornaments, which are sometimes precious and in large
quantities.
Actual weapons are thus a mark, from birth, of the males of this dominant social
group—undoubtedly the emergent Etruscan aristocracy—which represents itself as
the interpreter of the warrior values of the populus (in late Etruscan language rasna)31
and further distinguishes itself by a lifestyle linked to the values of the meat-centered
feast, ownership of horses and the use of chariots. All of this requires wealth, which
would have come from exploitation of local land and resources, especially areas some
distance from the settlement, in some way corresponding to the ager publicus (from
poplicus, i.e. “of the populus”) of ancient Rome. The ager publicus, which was appro-
priated rather than properly owned, formed the basis of the aristocratic families’
wealth over a long period.32
The thread spools found in rich female tombs of combination B are further proof
of the source of this wealth: wool and/or linen. These tombs not only exalt the domes-
tic values associated with spinning and weaving, but also contain many high prestige
goods such as amber necklaces, and bracelets etc.; items which also occur in several
category D infant tombs.
The second level of social rank is represented by adult males generally buried
only with a razor and/or pottery urn cover in the shape of a helmet, and a serpentine
fibula (category E), and probably also by male children with serpentine fibula (cat-
egory G) or serpentine fibula and knife and/or small metal point (category F). The
adult women of this rank have a single spindle whorl and some fibulae (category H),
and the babies have only a certain number of beads, mainly of glass (category I).
A third rank—perhaps of servants or dependent laborers— is also represented by
some graves, in which were placed very poor corredi, consisting only of pots (category K)
and sometimes a few beads (category J).
Evidence for the organic formation of high-ranking groups, at least from the
beginning of EIA2, comes from the spatial arrangement of the Quattro Fontanili cem-
etery. Some areas have concentrations of tombs of the highest-ranking individuals—
both males and females of various ages—close to which lie tombs of lower-ranking
males and females.
The Veian cemetery of Casale del Fosso,33 mainly dating to EIA2, is also spatially
arranged into groups, apparently belonging to extended families. Each group con-
31 Colonna 1988.
32 Capogrossi Colognesi 1981; 1988.
33 Buranelli 1981; Buranelli, Drago, and Paolini 1997; Drago Troccoli 2005.

tains a single tomb whose goods include a sword, and various burials either with a
spearhead or necklace and bracelet.
The forms of ostentation of rank and wealth described above were made possible
by the economic success of the “Etrurian system,” and of Veii in particular. They can
be seen as the outcome of competition and the differential accumulation of goods
by different family groups, as well as the concentration of authority and power in
the hands of the heads of the richest extended families (patres familias according
to Roman terminology). These are probably the men with A1 tomb goods, while the
children buried with weapons and the women and babies of categories B and D must
be their close relatives.
The political importance of a certain number of patres (probably those directly
descended from the original heads of the extended families) may have partially led
to the concept and practice of private rights over what was originally public land. At
first, such rights would have been impermanent, but gradually became consolidated
until finally the community permanently lost control of the land.
One of the motors of the rapid and growing socio-economic transformation of
EIA2 was undoubtedly also the flourishing of trade and exchange fed both by the
enormous protourban sites, obvious places for “permanent” markets and craft pro-
duction, and by the elites demand for prized goods. The increase in production and
exchange of goods was certainly aided by the activities of the Greeks and Levantines
in the Tyrrhenian area, especially with the foundation of Pithecusae in Campania.
However, Pithecusae was not founded until later in EIA2, after the beginning of these
socioeconomic changes, which therefore must have had a local origin linked to indig-
enous developments in social structure.
The rapid evolution of protourban societies with complex organization is well
testified by the development of a further and uppermost social group. This dates from
the EIA2 phase, but only reached maturity at the end of this period. The wealthiest
tombs of Quattro Fontanili belonged to this small social group, among which were
the aforementioned male tombs AA1 and Z15A (Figs. 41.7–8), and female tombs which
from phases IIB–IIC contain exceptional quantities of prized goods. Two of these were
tomb EE7–8B, which contained belongings of a young female child, and Yalpha34 of
phase IIC, whose location close to AA1 may be not accidental.
The process of emergence of a princely class, common to various protourban com-
munities, reached its culmination at the end of EIA2—that is to say at the beginning
of the Orientalizing period—with the appearance of very high-ranking burials such
34 Although not well preserved, this corredo includes, among other things: thirty-five bobbins, a
bronze distaff, at least twenty-four fibulae (one with a wrapped gold wire, and fourteen with amber
elements on the bow), a tripod and two bronze vases, a bronze girdle, iron andirons, more than 138
amber beads and pendants, 1,138 glass beads, faïence amulets, gold beads and ornamental discs, an
electrum spiral.

Fig. 41.7: Veii, Quattro Fontanili necropolis, tomb AA1 (after Pacciarelli 2001)

Fig. 41.8: Veii, Quattro Fontanili necropolis, tomb Z15A (after Pacciarelli 2001)
as the Tomb of the Warrior at Tarquinia.35 From this very rich corredo come not only
complex weaponry and many prestige items (horse bits, several bronze vases, and
precious metal vases and fibulae) but also an exceptional sign of a very high politico-
military role: a large pectoral with a richly ornamented gold plate.
35 Hencken 1968: 200–20; Kilian 1977; Babbi and Peltz 2013.

It seems not coincidental that the building of the ‘wall of Romulus’ around the
Palatine is dated to the same time, around 730–710. It was discovered by Andrea
Carandini, who considers it the first sign of a monarchy at Rome.36
The aforementioned finds are evidence of the emergence of a strong central
authority able to mediate— via powerful political, ideological and religious manipu-
lation, and probably also via a more centralized monopoly of power (recall the his-
torical tradition of Romulus creating the celeres guard)—the conflicting interests of a
society rapidly evolving towards urbanism and state organization.
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—. 2010. “Formazione dei centri protourbani e sviluppo della complessità sociopolitica in Etruria
meridionale.” In L’Etrurie et l’Ombrie avant Rome. Cité et territoire, Actes du colloque, Louvain-
La-Neuve 13–14.2.2004, edited by P. Fontaine, 17–33. Bruxelles: Institut Historique Belge de
Rome.
Peroni, R. 1969. “Per uno studio dell’economia di scambio in Italia nel quadro dell’ambiente
culturale dei secoli intorno al mille a.C.” ParPass 25: 134–60.
—. 1989. Protostoria dell’Italia continentale. La penisola italiana nelle età del bronzo e del ferro,
Popoli e Civiltà dell’Italia antica 9. Rome: Biblioteca di Storia Patria.
—. 1992. “Villanoviano a Fermo?” In La civiltà picena nelle Marche. Studi in onore di Giovanni
Annibaldi, 13–38. Ripatransone: Maroni.
—. 1994. Introduzione alla protostoria italiana. Bari: Laterza.
—. 1996. L’Italia alle soglie della storia. Rome, Bari: Laterza.
Ruby, P. 1995. Le crépuscule des marges. La premier âge du fer a Sala Consilina. Rome, Naples:
Centre Jean Bérard.
Sassatelli, G. 1999 “L’etrusca Felsina.” In Luoghi e tradizioni d’Italia. Emilia centrale e nord
adriatica, 131–152. Rome: Editalia.
Taglioni, C. 1999. L’abitato etrusco di Bologna. Bologna: University Press.
Toms, J. 1986. “The relative chronology of the villanovan cemetery of Quattro Fontanili at Veii.” AION
Arch StAnt 8:41–97.
Trucco, F. 1994. “La necropoli di Sala Consilina: analisi dei corredi, configurazioni planimetriche,
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studio, Salerno, Pontecagnano 16–18.11.1990, 132–152. Florence: Olschki.

Tiziano Trocchi
42 Ritual and cults, 10th cent.-730 BCE
Abstract: Funeral practices in the ancient proto-urban communities in Etruria are characterized by
an early predominant use of cremation, which was later replaced by burial between the late ninth
and eighth centuries BCE. Particular attention was initially paid to avoid mutual dependences and
inequalities that led to funeral rituals with strong egalitarian traits—burials within extremely simpli-
fied structures and with few grave goods. The initial rigor of funeral rituals was gradually replaced by
more complex ritual ceremonies, which show the early emergence of an embryonic social stratifica-
tion.
With the transition to the advanced stage of the Early Iron Age, there was a general increase in
the size and articulation of burial spaces. Individual characterization of the deceased is more and
more increasing. The anthropomorphism of the urns became a typical mark of elite cremation burials,
and can be connected to the need to restore individual role and social status. In the final stage of
this period, funeral practices were increasingly linked to the self-affirmation of an aristocratic group
of people at the top class of the social hierarchy. The leading figures of this social class represented
themselves through attributes that show their military, religious and political prerogatives.
Among the few data about ruins of worship structures, the most famous are those of Pian della
Civita in Tarquina, where the finds of food offerings are reminiscent of female fertility cults, while two
burials—which were certainly consecrated to the gods—suggest the practice of cruel and sacrificial
rituals. In the number of worship tools found in funerary contexts, we have to mention the multiple-
container vases, whose function can be related to the offering of preparation of food and beverages
during religious ceremonies. Among the figurative documents with sacred value we remember in par-
ticular the plastic decoration on the bronzed cinerary in woman’s grave 22 in Olmo Bello necropolis in
Bisenzio, interpreted as a sacred dance around a monstrous death god, performed by a group of warri-
ors, probably on their return from war. These features give origin to a complex cultural view, in which
the emerging elite seem to wish to claim a privileged relationship with the underworld gods and with
the divine forces governing nature and fecundity as a guarantee of social and political stability.
Keywords: Early Iron Age; funeral rituals; cremation burials; religious practices; worship tools;
social status
1 Funeral Ritual
1.1. The initial stages
Funeral events and practices in the ancient proto-urban communities living in Etruria
are characterized by an early predominant use of cremation, which was later replaced
by burial between the late ninth and the eighth centuries BCE.
Burial became increasingly dominant—especially in Southern Etruscan and Cam-
panian necropolises—already in the eighth century. In contrast, cremation remained
in use longer in northern Etruria and across the Po valley, where burial appeared only
during the seventh century.
780 Tiziano Trocchi
As for the meaning of cremation in relation to the concept of afterlife, we can

emphasize that cremation in itself was considered a medium with a strong signifi-
cance for the rite of passage, particularly by the change of the defunct physical state.
This change may involve the concept by which the deceased is accepted into a differ-
ent world, detached from the living one, where he/she becomes completely devoted
to the gods.1
The early spread of cremation in Etruria has been linked to funeral customs of the
Late Bronze Age communities. We can assume that during the transition between the
two phases, the origin of great proto-urban communities has led to a redistribution
of agricultural resources in the hands of individual family groups.2 Particular atten-
tion was initially paid to avoid mutual dependences and inequalities between those
groups that led later to funeral rituals with strong egalitarian traits that included
strict rules for body treatments, and burials within extremely simplified structures
and with few and selected grave goods.
Le Rose necropolis in Tarquinia, which can be dated to the ninth century, is an
example in which we can find this kind of ritual. The graves appear to be arranged in
small groups spanning a maximum of two generations, without any real unit linked to
hereditary lines3 and with very few indications on family and social roles.4
Even during the earliest phases, and due to rapidly changing social dynamics,
the initial rigor of funeral rituals has been gradually replaced by more complex ritual
ceremonies, which show the early emergence of an embryonic social stratification.
In this regard, we have to examine as a first step the actual tomb structure. The
graves of the first phase do not initially have any clear distinctive sign in their struc-
ture, which was usually made from a simple circular pit-tomb, and which housed
the jar of ashes, represented by the typical ceramic biconical vase. However, a more
attentive analysis of some cemeteries led to the observation of some more elaborate
tombs beside the other simpler grave structures. In some southern Etruscan places,5
there is documented evidence of cylinder ovoid-shaped cases, lytic boxes or stone
slab-covered pit-tombs. Some grave markers shaped after hut roofs and after knobbed
helmets have been found in the Selciatello Sopra necropolis in Tarquinia.6 Where
it was possible to compare the elements of these kinds of structures with the grave
1 Peroni 1981.
2 Pacciarelli 1991.
3 Iaia 1999, 123; see also Trucco 2008.
4 A very similar situation can be found in Veii, in the opening areas of Grotta Gramiccia and Quattro
Fontanili necropolises (Bartoloni 2003, with previous literature) as in some of the oldest burial
settlements in Sala Consilina (Trucco 1994) and in the early stage of S. Vitale necropolis in Bologna
(Pincelli and Morigi Govi 1975).
5 e.g. in Vulci, Tarquinia, Bisenzio, Veii and Caere.
6 In the Po Valley, we can find cobblestone-covered pit-tombs or with lytic box in the necropolises in
and around Bologna (Pincelli and Morigi Govi 1975; Silvestri 1994, with previous literature).

42 Ritual and cults, 10th cent.-730 BCE 781
Fig. 42.1: Male tomb group from the grave Selciatello 75 of Tarquinia (after Iaia 1999, fig. 9 A)
goods, it was observed that those structures usually coincide with plainer indications
of role with respect to the average, such as the spindle whorls in women’s graves7 and
the weapons in men’s.8 The rapid achievement of such a structural complexity used in
funeral rituals becomes very clear, and with it, we can identify the internal dynamism
of a society testing a rapid development of new models of aggregation.
This observation can be further supported by a brief examination of the data on
the elements of the burials, which are composed by the urn of ashes and the items
included in the grave goods.
The most commonly urn of ashes is certainly the biconical vase, usually with a
horizontal handle or two handles, one of which broke during the ritual. This use has
been interpreted as a rite of passage and as a sign of consecration9 to the gods associ-
ated with the vase itself and therefore of the deceased’s ashes.
Normally the jars are covered by a one-handled bowl, but in some contexts dif-
ferences regarding the covering of the biconical jar were observed. The urn lid made
as a symbolic ceramic helmet was commonly found in several early necropolises
(Fig. 42.1). In Grotta Gramiccia necropolis in Veii, e.g., sixty percent of graves contain-
7 Spinning tools have been found in several women’s graves, but they are much more in these ones.
8 Weapons are not usually found in men’s graves at this stage.
9 Peroni 1981.

782 Tiziano Trocchi
Fig. 42.2: Male tomb group from the grave Impiccato 25 of Tarquinia (after Iaia 1999, fig. 8 A)
ing male markers showed this kind of covering.10 Here, in some children’s burials, we
can find helmet lids that indicate the possibility of characterizing men as warriors as
early as their childhood, maybe for hereditary rights. These rituals are clear signs of
the evolution of new and complex social relationships and structures.
Ceramic helmet-shaped lids with a small hut roof on top, used as coverings, have
to be interpreted in the same way. The addition of the roof of a hut, a symbol of the
family home, enhances the symbolic value of the urn. It combines two roles for men—
that of a warrior and that of the father of the family, who holds a sort of right of citi-
zenship within the community.11 A first definite indication of social standing is then
added to the role of warrior. A special remark has to be reserved for burials with hut-
shaped cinerary urns (Fig. 42.2), which are common in the oldest burials in Latium
vetus and quite rare in Etruria, where we can find a few examples of men’s graves.12 It
has been suggested that this kind of urn can be reconnected with a priestly function of
the deceased13 or with the high social standing of people with an upper-class status,
indicating an early form of political authority. The cinerary urn ultimately becomes
the bearer of symbolic meanings and the object of marked identification with the
dead, with his attributes of role and status and sometimes with the family home as a
primary component of his identity.
Regarding the graves goods, we can observe that most of the early burials do not
have any vascular set of items, while during the ritual the deposition of items was
10 Berardinetti and Drago 1997, 40.

11 Carandini 1997, 475.
12 Some examples of men’s graves are known in Tarquinia, Vulci and Vetulonia.
13 We refer especially to the famous sheet bronze urn in the Osteria necropolis at Vulci (Fig. 39.6),
which has been interpreted as a reproduction of a hut used in worshiping practices (Torelli 1997a).

almost exclusively of personal goods. These were typically one or more fibulae, in
many cases placed into the cinerary urn.14 We can also find spinning tools—more
rarely weaving tools—other than ornaments, in women’s graves and, from the late
ninth century, razors in men’s graves. These forms of expression are quite limited; in
the initial stages, burials without any grave goods prevailed almost everywhere.
1.2 The advanced stages
With the transition to the advanced stage of the Early Iron Age (eighth century) it is
possible to more precisely define the ritual models.
As for the relationship between ritual and structure, there was a general increase in
the size and articulation of burial spaces and a growing connection between the grave
structure and the symbolic and communicative complexity of the funeral ritual itself.
In southern Etruria, where burials were more widespread, rectangular graves were
enriched with one or more lateral loculi (Fig. 42.3). The case of Veii15 is emblematic; in
this area a steady enlargement of graves along with the use of large wooden coffins
can be observed from the first half of the eighth century. Then, we can find graves with
their lateral loculus, which is usually used for placing pottery goods, or even graves
with a double loculus, used to house mortal remains and their pottery set.16
A spatial analysis which has recently been carried out on a group of cremation
burials in Verucchio17 has led to the recognition of a modular partition of the great
pit-tombs inner spaces, which can be assimilated to rooms such as:
–– The main chamber: the deepest part, dedicated to the cinerary urn;
–– The grave hall: usually the middle part or the space round the urn, but detached
from it;
–– The access dromos: the highest part of the grave, often overlying a layer of wooden
planks.
This division, combined with a distributive analysis of the mortuary equipment, has
made it possible to suggest interpretative hypotheses about cremation, referring to the
14 Fibulae are often burned, suggesting the practice of lying bodies on the pyre with their clothes and
ornaments, maybe after an exposition of the deceased. At times there are also unburned fibulae which
are plausibly intended to individualize the dead even after his cremation.
15 Bartoloni et al. 1997, 90–6.
16 In Etruscan Campania, we can observe, at this stage, burials in quadrangular graves, which are
emphasized by a circle of square stone tuff blocks or travertine slabs (d’Agostino and Gastaldi 1988,
241), while in northern Etruria—for example at Vetulonia—broken circle graves are largely used and
house burials of members of the same family, which are placed in circles of stones wedged into the
ground (Bartoloni 2003, 96–7, with previous literature).
17 Ghini et al. forthcoming.

784 Tiziano Trocchi
Fig. 42.3: Plan of the grave AA1 of the Quattro Fontanili necropolis in Veii (drawing SAR-Laz)

grave structuring. It has also contributed to a better understanding of the reasons for
the great abundance and increase in the use of banquet vases and pottery—meaning
an increase in eating and drinking on the part of the rising aristocracy during funer-
ary rituals.
The presence of pottery has been observed in several different areas of the graves,
that presented different features and meanings. In the grave hall intact banquet
pottery18 is often placed with its furnishing. The space therefore seems to define the
deceased as a “social person” who had a place in a highly ritualized elite ceremony,
and was ultimately transferred to the afterlife. In the main chamber—an area reserved
for the cinerary urn and the grave goods—and the dromos, the presence of pottery
made useless during the rite has been observed. Thus, the intact pottery found in the
main chamber suggests a perpetual function, a sort of everlasting banquet of the dead,
while in the other two spaces, we recognize the material remains from the banquet of
the living, celebrated during the funeral ritual,19 to consecrate the deceased’s passage
to the afterlife.20 These are various constitutive moments of a complex funeral cer-
emony, which links eschatological features to fixed social rituals.
The deceased were buried in personal graves with individual characteristics
reflecting their social status. The anthropomorphism of the urns became a typical
mark of cremation burials of the rising elite and can be conceptually connected both
to the desire of softening the destructive power of cremation21 and the increasing need
to restore and enhance individual prerogatives of role and social status. At this stage,
where the burial is prevailing, the choice of the crematory ritual is often linked to ide-
ological reasons. In the necropolises at Veii22 and Pontecagnano,23 cremation remains
have been found in the graves of prominent warriors who would have had a very high
social status. Cremation seems to have been a conceptual choice, intended to dignify
with a strongly traditional rite the individuals belonging to the highest level of a fully
aristocratic society, which seems at the same time to have been prematurely inspired
by the typical heroic Homeric Greek burial.24
18 Often containing servings of food or beverages.

19 Beside the pyre during the cremation (pottery placed in the main chamber usually with the burnt
carbon remains) or, in the deposed defunct honor (pottery placed in the “dromos”) at the time of tomb
covering.
20 To this we can refer, as a rite of passage, the intentional breaking of the objects used during the
ceremony and placed, even partially, into the grave.
21 Delpino 1977, 175.
24 Metal cinerary urns and clothes wrapping the burned remains are used from this period in some
Etruscan graves and that can be related to a clear reference to the Greek rituals. (Bartoloni 1984, 13–15;
d’Agostino 1996).

786 Tiziano Trocchi
Among the best-known cases of cremations from this period are the graves of
warriors I and II in Poggio dell’Impiccato necropolis in Tarquinia.25 The funeral urns
were found lying down—as if to emulate the burial position of a body—covered with
a crested helmet in grave I and with a bronzed half sphere shaped like a human face
in grave II. Both vases had golden foil fragments on their surface, probably used to
decorate a fabric meant to wrap the body. The intention of personalizing the jar of
ashes using clothes and goods in grave I and by a funeral mask in grave II26 appears
now clearly. Evidence of the practice to personalize the ashes container is known in
Veii, where women’s cinerary urns were found near bronze plaque belts,27 and similar
items were even found in Vulci,28 Pontecagnano,29 Sala Consilina,30 Bologna31 and
Verucchio.32
The emergence of remarkable elite graves can be noticed from the third quarter of
the eighth century in conjunction with a diffused medium-high-quality of the grave
goods. This proves the establishment of a dominant group and the process of its inter-
nal structure.
In the Quattro Fontanili necropolis in Veii, we observe a highly important crema-
tion grave, the AA1 (Fig. 42.3), dated to the mid-eighth century.33 The grave goods are
composed of a ceramic banquet set and several personal belongings that indicate the
deceased’s role and social status, including a bronzed cinerary urn covered with a
crested helmet, four ceramic vases of established worshiping value (It. calefattoio)34,
a small round bronze shield, horse bits, a short sword, a spear and a winged axe.
Another example is tomb 39 in the Benacci Caprara necropolis at Bologna.35
Dating to the second half of the eighth century, it housed a bronze cinerary vase and
a luxurious bronze pottery set, in which we can find a large bronze vessel of high
cultural value (It. presentatoio). There were also horse bits, a sword, a curvy blade
knife—probably associated with cutting meat and so with sacrificial practices—and
three winged axes, one of which has symbolically a large curved cutting edge.
25 Delpino 2005.
26 This cinerary urn was also placed in the lower part in a bronze half sphere, probably used as the
mask after the receiving of Hellenic heroic funeral ceremonies in Tarquinia, which were adapted to
the oldest funeral rituals by the local aristocracy.
27 Bartoloni et al. 1997, 100.
28 Mangani 1995, 385.
29 d’Agostino and Gastaldi 1988, 197.
30 Trucco 1994.
31 Boiardi von Eles 1994, 102; Trocchi 2004, 64.
32 It has been studied that ritual dressing, showed by ornament goods and/or weapons upon or at the
feet of the cinerary urn in Verucchio graves, is a widespread phenomenon both in female and male
tombs (Bentini et al. 2015).
33 Boitani 2004.
34 Torelli 1997a, 38; 2006, 410.
35 Tovoli 1989, 142–4.

Clearly, then, in the final stage of the examined period, funeral practices were
closely linked to the self-affirming need of a small aristocratic group of people at the
top of the social hierarchy.36 The leading figures of this social class represent them-
selves through attributes that can show their prerogatives. The aristocratic banquet
is an essential theme, which is glorified by the opulence and preciousness of the
pottery,37 and the military bravery is exalted by weapons and the emphasis on the uti-
lization of horses.38 Added to this “basic level of funerary language”—common to the
emerging classes—is the symbolism of the sacred rituals administration, emphasized
by tools connected with sacrifice and worship. The emergence of a symbolic way to
indicate political power—represented by the axes—helps complete the picture. It has
been observed that in Etruria axes were not only tools for cutting woods or weapons
used in war39, but they soon gained the role of a sign of power as well as of a sacri-
ficial tool, which is a concrete and tangible power, handed down within the family
line.40 All these attributes (military, priestly and political) have been made eternal
by funeral rites, which acted like a real performance41. The attributes celebrate and
glorifie the dead as mythical ancestors, helping to define the upper-class social status
of the deceased.42
2 Forms of worship
Data related to structural ruins of buildings are extremely limited for the period at
hand. We have to take into account different resources that can indirectly enlarge our
data on religious practices primarily including objects placed in some elite burials,
36 De Santis 2005.

37 In this phase imported vases from Greece or the Near East were commonly used, especially in
southern Etruria and in Campania. These vases were displayed as keimelia with the grave goods. That
was a sign of commercial trade, spread in the form of aristocratic gifts, ever more firmly in the hands
of local elites (for an overview: Sciacca 2010). The use of these products, soon locally imitated with
frequent formal contamination with types of Central Europe, will have a key role in the spread of
Greek and Near Eastern conviviality manners among members of the rising Tyrrhenian elites (Iaia
2010, 40–41, with previous literature).
38 Horse harness elements are not exclusively used for male burials. In women’s graves they can be
connected to certain uses of chariots.
39 Torelli 2006.
40 Transmitted even in the female line. In Etruria, axes are not exclusively a male attribute. In
Veii and Verucchio they can be found in women’s graves from the late eighth and the early seventh
centuries (Berardinetti and Drago 1997; von Eles 2007, 83).
41 Laneri 2007.
42 As for the actual location of these people, it has been suggested to identify them as a sort of reges
curiarum, from the Roman model (Menichetti 2000, 205).

788 Tiziano Trocchi
which emphasize the rights of the grave owner to worship. Moreover, we have to con-
sider some exceptional figurative examples, showing plain religious features.43
The most important worship structures are those in Pian della Civita at Tar-
quina44, an area that practiced religious rituals from the half of the tenth century.
A natural pit with ritually placed pottery and offerings of firstlings and cereals has
been found there, as well as the remains of a hut that probably housed furnishings for
worshiping practices. From the ninth century, a fence was added to the sacred area, in
which the body of a supine child was found45. At the beginning of the eighth century,
the sacred fence was rebuilt using stones and the body of an adult man46 in the same
position was placed near the pit. Food offerings are reminiscent of ancestral female
fertility cults, while the two burials, which were certainly consecrated to the gods,
suggest the practice of cruel and sacrificial rituals.
Between the Early Iron Age and the Orientalizing period, we can observe signifi-
cant traces of worshiping in the suburban area of Banditella nearby Vulci, where a
spring water yelded finds belonging to the Middle and Late Bronze Age47. From the
Early Iron Age this site became a place of worship, building a large wall in front of
the spring, in order to form a triangular basin. Ritual elements are placed along the
banks, including miniature pots and several pieces of jewelry. It is quite difficult to
interpret the data precisely in regard to the worship features; there were only a few
similar worship places in the early stages in Etruria, while sacred springs in Latium
vetus have many similarities, even from a structural point of view.48
Among the worship tools found in funerary contexts, widespread multiple-con-
tainer vases (Gk. kernoi) were widespread. This kind of vases includes “candelabra”
shaped pottery, multiple-neck vases and double or triple containers.49 The interpreta-
tion of these elements such as worshiping tools has been confirmed from long now.
Their function can be related to the offering or the preparation of beverages and food
during ceremonies. Wheeled cult ritual chariots had particular importance, and have
been understood as incense burners or supports for containers that held purifying
43 Several Latin historiographical and literary attestations, concerning liturgies even for the early
Etruscan religion, can be in some cases added to these data.
44 Bonghi Jovino 2008 with previous literature.
45 Anthropological analysis showed that he was an albino person affected by encephalopathy. This
could have been a special ritual for “monstrum” figures.
46 The presence of a Euboic olla on the body suggest the identification of this man as a Greek. The
remains analysis showed that he died from violent death.
47 Naso 2012 with previous literature.
48 For example, the wall cross-boundary.
49 Several examples are known in Tarquinia (Iaia 1999), in Veii (Berardinetti Insam 1990, 12), in
Vetulonia (Delpino 2007) and in many male and female elite burials, in and around Bologna (Trocchi
2004, 63; Locatelli 2010, 219–20).

water.50 The most ancient example of these objects has been found in grave 2 in Olmo
Bello necropolis in Bisenzio belonging to the eighth century; they were used until
the Orientalizing period51. Bronze presentatoi from the area of Bologna—on foot trays
with trapezoidal fins and central basins52—are thought to have been used as ceremo-
nial chariots. This is also true for the calefattoi,53 square-shaped pierced vases with
long vertical central necks, which were very popular in the ancient Latium, but also
used in the Etrurscan area, especially in Veii and Pontecagnano. These objects most
likely served the worship of deities—one of which could be the Etruscan version of the
Roman goddess Ops—connected with the female functions of producing and preserv-
ing wealth. This function is symbolized by the offer of food.54
Some cups with elevated handles closed by a double circle, and with a central
female figurine surrounded by small animal figurines (Fig. 42.4). This kind of cup has
to do with female deities worships.55 This pattern is reminiscent of sacred subjects
derived from the Near East; the “naked goddess” model, connected with the female
body as a generator,56 can be linked with the theme of the mistress of the animals
(Gk. potnia theron) and her relation with nature and fertility. Most of the cups in ques-
tion come from the graves of women who probably used these same sacred tools as
ritual officiates. That seems to be confirmed by the representation of a high status
woman in the famous and complex depiction of the Bisenzio chariot, who holds a
similar cup in her hand, seemingly during a sacrificial offer.57
Among the sacred objects, it is worth noting a well-known cinerary lid found
in Pontecagnano (Fig. 18.1).58 At its top, it depicts a scenes of two seated plastic
figurines—a man and a woman with monstrous faces and palmed limbs embracing
each other—which has been interpreted as a sacred marriage union (It. ierogamia)59
between the deceased and an underworld goddess, who, passing her arm around his
50 Torelli 1997a, 38.

51 Naso 2006.
52 Tovoli 1989; Naso 2006.
53 Torelli 2006.
54 The described vascular forms have been related to the roman praefericulum, a worship vase
described by Festus as owned by rex sacrorum and regina sacrorum (Fest. 292. L) and connected with
the worship of Ops Consiva (Torelli 1997b; 2006).
55 Documented by graves in Bisenzio, Veii, Roselle, Vetulonia, Chiusi (Cygielman and Pagnini 2006
with previous literature), and in Verucchio (von Eles and Trocchi 2015).
56 Delpino 2007.
57 For a complete description and the main interpretations of this depiction, representing many
religious but also social and political implications: Torelli 1997a; Carandini 2002, 239–54; Pacciarelli
2002. For a typological analysis of this item: Iaia 2010, 36–7). One of the oldest examples of these cups
comes from this rich woman’s grave
58 Torelli 2000 with previous literature.
59 Torelli 1997a, 41.

790 Tiziano Trocchi
Fig. 42.4: Bronze cup with central female figurine from the
grave 2 of the Olmo Bello necropolis in Bisenzio Rome, Villa
Giulia Museum (photo SAR-Laz)
shoulders, introduces him to the afterlife, and turns him into a hero. The deceased’s
monstrous shape indicates his physical shape.60
The plastic decoration on the bronzed cinerary urn in female grave 22 in the Olmo
Bello necropolis at Bisenzio proves the savage and monstrous aspect of the gods of
the underworld (Fig. 16.1).61 At the top of the jar lid is a monstrous chained figurine,
with webbed limbs and its snout prognathous. Seven spear wielding ithyphallic (with
one exception) male figurines perform a ritual dance around the chained figure. On
60 The embracing act is more emphasized in the plastic group lid in Chiusi, interpreted as a sexual
union between the defunct and the underworld goddess (Torelli 1997a).
61 Torelli 1997a; Pacciarelli 2002. See also chapter 16 Cherici.

the shoulder of the vase is another ritual dance, in which nine male figurines armed
with shields and spears move toward a separate scene in which a man is holding a
cow by its tail while facing a great warrior armed with a club and a spear. Both scenes
have been interpreted as a sacred dance (Gk. pirrichia) around a death god, performed
by a group of warriors, probably on their return from war, as it seems to indicate that
the figurine of the prisoner could be sacrificed to appease the gods. The cow group
has been interpreted as a sacrificial scene of underworld deities. The sacred dance
has been linked to the classical Latin tradition of the Salii colleges of priests and their
warrior nature.62 This practice might be related to the octobralia, the ritual dances
performed by the Salii in October at the time of the return from war. It has been sug-
gested63 that the warrior and cow scenes can be related to the episode of Geryon’s
cattle robbery in the Heracles saga.64 It could thus be a very early reception of the
Greek myth in Etruria, surely made through the first Euboean colonies in Italy, which
influenced the iconographic choices of an expanding Etruscan aristocracy.65
These elements demonstrate the emergence of an original religiosity closely con-
nected with the relationship between man, nature and death. The presence of water
worship, and the worship of fertility goddesses and monstrous underworld deities
serve as the primary proof of this new kind of cult. An important role in the admin-
istration of the liturgies must have been played by women of the emerging-classes,
as we can see from the huge presence of worship tools in women’s graves and from
figurative themes. All this can be added to the adoption in second half of the eighth
century of patterns and iconographical frames derived from the Near East and the
introduction of Greek mythological features.66 Finally, forms of worship in Etruria
seem to have, at this stage, a very strong relationship with the common ritual prac-
tices in Latium vetus. These features give origin to a complex cultural view in which
the emerging elite claimed a privileged relationship with the underworld gods and
62 For this priest college in Etruria we refer to the famous tomb 1036 in Veii Casale del Fosso (Boitani
2001, 112), with two bilobed shields (lat. ancilia) covering the deceased. The burial is enriched with a
complete panoplia, a scepter and a club. The use of this kind of armor refers to the Salii priesthood,
traditionally founded by the Roman king Numa, but also attested later. The club used to beat on the
ancilia is closely related to the Salii worship. For this grave we refer to Morrius, king of Veii (Colonna
1991), who was connected with Numa in Servio’s epitome to Virgil’s Aeneid (Serv. Aen. 8. 285).
64 The spear and club armed character would then be the hero in his act of facing Cacus, the robbery
perpetrator.
65 The choice of Heracles would be intended to represent warrior values and the acceptance of
common rules and proprietary rights, which are recognized to be basic values for the authority of the
aristocracy of the main Etruscan sites. The fact that it is a “class” affirmation and not an individual
one is well proved by the placement of the representation of this male ritual on the monumental
cinerary urn in a woman’s grave.
66 A direct relationship between Etruria and Euboean Greek world certainly started from the second
quarter of the eighth century (d’Agostino 2006).

792 Tiziano Trocchi
the divine forces governing nature and fertility as a guarantee of social and political
stability.
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Archeologia.

Albert J. Nijboer
43 Economy, 10th cent.-730 BCE
Abstract: In economic terms the clearest features for Etruria during EIA 1 (1000/950–800 BCE) are:
– The increasing role of a landlocked network of exchange crossing from northeast to southwest
Italy with Etruria at its core. This network was managed by part-time traders who gained advan-
tages over the rest of the population by dominating exchange and communication.
– The growing exploitation of the local metal ores due to a gradual substitution of copper-alloy
tools and weapons by those of iron.
For EIA 2 (800–730 BCE) there is evidence for:
– Accelerated population growth.
– Craft specialization on account of politically motivated demands of the emerging upper classes
for prestige goods.
– The definite opening of the existing exchange network to overseas merchants/craftsmen from
the Levant and Euboea.
Food, shelter and clothing are the three economic necessities of life. In Etruria, everybody seems
to have had access to these necessities. Shelter during the whole Early Iron Age consisted of huts
that were probably constructed with communal labor by extended families or by clans. Clothing and
textiles were produced in most households, mainly as additional—though labor-intensive—tasks
for women. For the rest, the production of food or agriculture constituted 90–95% of the labor. The
remaining 5—10% was for activities such as mining, metalworking, salt production and a limited
amount for trade and political-religious services.
Agricultural land in Etruria was predominantly collective and probably belonged to clans.
Some rising families within each clan, possibly those managing long-distance exchange, started
to control labor of their fellows and thus claimed part of the productivity. For economic progress,
it seems to have been essential that the rising upper class found ways to collect and dispose of
surplus production. This probably gave rise to economic inequality in return for social-economic
protection.
Keywords: Exchange network, craft specialization, land, agricolture
1 Introduction
An economy represents the “hardware” of a society and region. It entails the distri-
bution and exploitation of resources, the organization of labor, demography, appro-
priation, customs of local and regional exchange, and the consumption of food and
goods that are produced and imported. As such, an economy is interlocked with its
social and political order. The collective socio-political structure in Etruria will be
referred to when necessary, since it structured its economic development but is not
For comments on the text, forwarded articles and discussion, I would like to thank Prof. A. Naso,
Prof. G. Bartoloni, Prof. A.M. Bietti Sestieri, Dr. A. de Santis, Dr. F. Delpino, Dr. C. Iaia, and my students.
796 Albert J. Nijboer
discussed independently. For convenience, the Early Iron Age in Etruria is divided in
two phases: EIA 1 (1000/950–800) and EIA 2 (800–730). During EIA 1, economic devel-
opment shows a gradual increase in scale that accelerated during EIA 2, a period that
is partially characterized by overseas contacts and exchange. These contacts brought
with them a social hierarchy in Etruria that became more visible in the form of excep-
tional female and warrior tombs containing local luxury goods, status symbols and
some overseas imports.
This chapter presents a general reconstruction of the economy in Etruria from
1000 to 730, which is a challenging exercise in overall interpretation.1 An extensive
discussion on local differences between coastal and interior or northern and south-
ern Etruria is not feasible here. Society in Etruria changed considerably during these
centuries, a transformation that is brought to light by archaeological data that reveals
evermore differentiation. Regrettably, our knowledge of EIA 1 is still sketchy. Two eco-
nomic features for this period stand out nevertheless: the establishment of a sound
interregional, overland network of exchange, and the steady replacement of copper-
alloy tools and weapons with iron ones.
2 Demography
A major event in Etruria during the tenth century is the concentration of the popula-
tion on larger plateaus at central sites that became the nuclei of the future Etruscan
city-states.2 Many smaller Final Bronze Age sites were deserted in favor of much larger
plateaus.3 This territorial restructuring of Etruria does not seem to have been accom-
panied by a sharp increase in population. The minor Final Bronze Age sites typically
housed communities of around 100 people, though higher populations are estimated
for some settlements. The larger plateaus, some of which are between 100 and 200
hectares, housed a dispersed population of a few hundreds during the tenth century.
They were probably organized in small groups or clans, which are denoted by surveys
that often show concentrations of EIA 1 ceramics on specific plots of these plateaus.
The rise of a number of prescribed burial grounds surrounding these settlements from
EIA 1 onwards, indicates that the groups within them were distinct.4 If one were to
include the people from the large adjoining territory, the population per main set-
1 Many aspects of the economy of the Early Iron Age in Etruria are presented in other chapters; topics
such as shipping (chapter 22 Pomey), mines (chapters 25 Zifferero and 26 Corretti), weights (chapter 28
Maggiani) and settlement patterns (chapter 72 Zifferero).
2 These topics are examined in other chapters. See chapters 41 Pacciarelli and 44 Iaia.
3 E.g. Barbaro 2010.
4 The majority of these prescribed burial grounds grew considerably in the centuries to come.

43 Economy, 10th cent.-730 BCE 797
tlement might be raised to a few thousand for EIA 1, many of whom probably had a
mobile, semi-permanent lifestyle.
The archaeological evidence from tombs and surveys dated around 800 suggest
that several of the larger primary settlements—especially those in southern Etruria—
had reached a population of around 1000.5 EIA 2 is documented as a period of excep-
tional growth and by 725, this figure could have doubled, at the most. Including groups
living in the territories around these central settlements, it has been suggested that
some of the chiefdoms/early city-states accommodated over several thousand per-
manent residents during EIA 2.6 Consequently, the demography is reconstructed as a
gradual increase in population during EIA 1 that accelerated in EIA 2.7 These higher
population numbers contributed significantly to the economic growth of Etruria.
3 Agriculture, resources and their exploitation

The economy of Etruria depended largely on agriculture.8 Its soils are generally fertile,
and labor was organized around transhumance and a seasonal farming calendar.
Animal husbandry of cattle, pigs and sheep, along with the cultivation of plants such
as barley, spelt, emmer and bread wheat, was the basis of the agricultural economy.
The occasional remains of wild species and fish in tombs and settlements indicate
that meals were augmented with such foods. Other uncultivated foodstuffs such as
nuts and fruits supplemented the diet.9 The archaeological evidence for Mediterra-
nean poly-culture (the cultivation of olives, vines and cereals) is limited, but it might
have existed on a small scale nonetheless. Wine grapes were cultivated locally.10 By
the Late Bronze Age, olive cultivation was well established in Southern Italy,11 and
olive trees might have been tended in Etruria as well.12
5 E.g. Nijboer 2008, 426.

6 See chapter 41 Pacciarelli. The term “chiefdom” needs to be specifically defined for conditions in
Etruria. The few EIA 2 elaborate warrior tombs might represent chiefs but their position does not seem
to become hereditary. The figurehead can be labeled chief, rex or king. As such he represented the
formal cooperation of the various clans and their respective heads living in the main settlements of
Etruria (De Santis 2005; Nijboer 2008, 440–4). It is probable that early state formation started in EIA 2.
7 These figures are rough estimates and varied per site or territorial unit. I have maintained low to
average figures.
8 See chapters 69 Perkins and 72 Zifferero.
9 E.g. Costantini and Costantini Biasini 1987; Barker and Rasmussen 2000, 73–4.
10 E.g. Delpino 1997; 2007; Mori Secci 2005, 70–2; Bonghi Jovino 2010, 163.
11 E.g. Fiorentino 1995; Elevelt 2002; Cazzella and Recchia 2009, 27–8.

A main economic asset of Etruria is its quantity and variety in ore deposits.13 The
main ore deposits are more towards the Tyrrhenian Sea than in the interior, which
would have affected the economy of important inland sites such as Orvieto, Chiusi,
Cortona and Arretium. Exploitation of ore deposits in Etruria started long before EIA 1.
The deposits in Etruria predominantly contain copper and iron ores, and mining
grew significantly during EIA 1 due to the increasing use of iron. Andrea Zifferero and
Claudio Giardino associate specific ore deposits with settlement patterns while incor-
porating archaeo-metallurgical evidence.14 A site like Acquarossa is clearly linked
to the mineral deposits in its vicinity. Metal waste products, such as slag, crucibles,
semi-manufactured iron and copper have been reported in some huts, which date
from the eighth century onwards.15 The findings imply that mining might have been a
communal activity.16 The exploitation of tin and silver ores in Etruria remains contest-
ed.17 Gold had to be imported into Etruria, and an evident increase in its deposition
in tombs from the late ninth century until around 650 suggests widening markets and
the ascent of Etruria’s interregional, overseas economy.
4 Territorial control over resources

The concentration of the population on the larger plateaus was accompanied by sur-
rounding territories ranging on average between 1,000 and 2,000 sq km, although
borders were still poorly defined.18 Natural features like rivers and streams functioned
as boundaries. Territorial control over resources appears to have been weak, although
it increased during the late ninth and eighth century due to the rise of secondary set-
tlements.
The extraction of the local iron ores emerged at least from 950-900 onwards,
when iron gradually replaced copper-alloys as the main metal for tools, weapons
and construction. Gregory Warden presents a hypothesis for the intensification of the
mining activities. He suggests that mining was characterized by incipient—possibly
seasonal—exploitation prior to 800, while specialized mineral production increased
from 800 to 550.19
13 Nijboer 1998, 235–40 (Figs. 25.1 and 26.1).

14 Zifferero 1991; 1992; Giardino 1995.
15 Östenberg 1983; Zifferero 1991, 219–21.
16 Similar evidence is recorded from the nearby settlement at M. Piombone (Nardi 1972, 106).
17 Nijboer 1998, 208–209, 238. Giumlia-Mair states that the provenance of tin in Italy is still unresolved
and that it might even derive from central Europe (Giumlia-Mair 2003). This remains a hypothesis,
though exchange routes between Italy and central Europe existed from ancient times onwards and
intensified during the ninth and eighth centuries; see chapter 44 Iaia.
18 See chapter 41 Pacciarelli; Barker and Rasmussen 2000, 61.
19 Warden 1984.

In essence, this hypothesis can be considered valid, particularly for the most
important mining regions in Etruria. Nevertheless, there are indications that the
economic importance of mining centers fluctuated. Such centers could boom during
periods of economic prosperity, and fade due to a lack of socio-political significance.
The general increase in metal production is also reflected in a model presented by
Anna Maria Bietti Sestieri, who points out that there was a continuing rise in produc-
tion with a diversification of the repertoire and appearance of local typologies during
the tenth and ninth centuries, indicating resident bronze industries.20 Mining and
working of the ores was probably a communal, part-time pursuit. There is no evidence
for the hypothesis that mining was corvée labor by the ruled for the rulers.21
Comparable economic circumstances are implied when examining data for the
exploitation of coastal areas and salt pans. The district, taken as an illustration,
is called Le Saline on the coast, at a distance of about 9 km from Tarquinia. Some
archaeological contexts contain exclusively large vessels of red-brown impasto.22 Like
at other salt pans, tableware is almost absent. Similar EIA 1 and 2 sites are found
nearby, which are part of a series of minor sites with specific functions for the use
of lagoon environments while producing salt and raising fish. Alessandro Mandolesi
interprets these coastal sites as being related to the emergence of a complex settle-
ment system during EIA 1 with Tarquinia at its center.23
5 Exchange network and the role of Etruria

The exchange network with Etruria as hub is documented in the circulation of spe-
cific types of artifacts and the comparable funerary practices. This creates countless
distribution maps, for example, of Sardinian finds in Etruria, of crested helmets or
of particular Levantine bowls (Figs. 44.1 and 44.4).24 These distribution maps imply
that Etruria had become one of the core-regions in the Mediterranean and beyond
from the ninth–eighth centuries onwards. The starting point for this role of Etruria as
economic hub lies in a string of important settlements from Calabria to the Veneto.25
It included sites on the Adriatic such as Fermo and Verucchio and settlements in
Campania such as Capua and Pontecagnano. These centers, emerging during EIA 1,
20 Bietti Sestieri 1981.

21 However, this possibility cannot be entirely excluded. In a comparison study of seven early
civilizations (early city and territorial states), Bruce Trigger mentions mining often as corvée labor
(Trigger 2003, 377–89).
22 Mandolesi 1999, 174; 1996, 56; for other sites, see Pacciarelli 2001, 170–6.
23 Mandolesi 1996, 57.
24 Consult for more data on this issue, chapter 44 Iaia.
25 E.g. Bietti Sestieri 2005, 20–21.

appear to have had an open economy with freedom of trade and few restrictions in
transfer, relocation and communication. The overland network linking Etruria and
the rest of Italy with central Europe is well known, although it is not usually recog-
nized as a main economic asset, which it was; it emerged during EIA 1 and remained
of importance for centuries. One of the imported commodities being exchanged along
this trading highway was amber that originated in the Baltic.26 The overland route for
amber started during the Late Bronze Age and continued during EIA 1 and 2. However,
the rise of the Villanovan centers from northeast to southwest Italy during EIA 1
extended the internal exchange network considerably into Campania and Calabria.
This network eventually also accommodated various groups from overseas, such as
Sardinians, people from the Balkans, Phoenicians and Euboeans, who arrived in Italy
mainly from EIA 2 onwards.27
Iron, a new and valued material when it became adopted during EIA 1, shows
an opposite distribution pattern when compared to Baltic amber since it is found in
substantial quantities in southwest Italy from the tenth century onwards and became
common in other parts of Italy during the ninth century. Iron was available in Italy
more than a century prior to its adoption in Europe north of the Alps. The spread
of iron technology is thought to have been an overland, internal development after
being triggered by contacts with Phoenicians during the 10th century BC in southern
Italy as it was in Spain/Portugal.28 The increasing use of iron in various parts of Italy
would have assisted the expansion of the domestic exchange routes during the ninth
and eighth centuries, as did the increasing consumption of Baltic amber.
6 Practice of exchange
The practices surrounding exchange do not seem to vary much during EIA 1 and
EIA 2, since clear evidence for market principles and units of weights or volume is
hard to detect. Exchanges between unrelated individuals were mostly by barter or
negotiation. Specific quantities of metals or salt may have functioned as early forms
of currency from the Late Bronze Age onwards, which as a standard unit of exchange
would certainly have simplified the bartering process between different groups, but
26 For a reconstruction of the amber trade during the Late Bronze Age, see Negroni Catacchio,
Massari and Raposso 2006.
27 Nijboer 2011; http://151.12.58.75/archeologia/bao_document/articoli/1_NIJBOER.pdf
28 Mielke and Torres Ortiz 2012; Nijboer 2011. Others have discussed the introduction of iron using
different data: e.g. Delpino 1988; Nijboer 1998, 219–35; Vanzetti 2000, 149–150. Iron might have been
worked occasionally in Italy from the last phase of the Final Bronze Age onwards (e.g. Delpino, Giachi
and Pallecchi 2004). A fully-fledged use of iron in Italy pertains to the ninth–eighth centuries and
later.

this remains hypothetical. Practices of exchange depart from the process of commod-
itization. Keith Hart has described this process as a sequence of characteristic “stages
in the progressive abstraction of social labour.”29 Production for personal use does not
involve exchange but often remains an option for an individual in any society. Much
of the food and many everyday goods were produced in agrarian households and
were not intended for exchange at all. It remains uncertain when quantification and a
market mechanism were introduced in Etruria.30 There are indications that exchange
by quantification developed in Italy during the Middle and Late Bronze Age, especially
for interregional trade.31 Archaeological evidence demonstrates that quantification
with overseas traders functioned in central Italy from the eighth century onwards.
Exchange by quantification might have been used during EIA 1 and 2 for interregional
commerce, especially in metals, while reciprocity within a clan setting was probably
the preferred mode of exchange for local barter outside the family unit. During EIA 1
and 2 some commodities were the product of divided labor and the increase in craft
specialization, which led to the workshop mode of production from the ninth century
onwards, will have assisted the development of exchange by quantification.
7 Primary evidence of production:

data on the manufacture of ceramics,
metal and other commodities
The primary evidence of the production of goods is comprised of the material remains
of the chaîne opératoire, such as loom-weights, spindle-whorls, kilns, actual work-
shops, ovens, furnaces, ceramic wasters, metallurgical debris and other evidence
directly related to production. Thus metallurgical debris from the Late Bronze Age–
Early Iron Age sites, such as Gran Carro, Scarceta, Elceto, Sorgenti della Nova and
Luni sul Mignone, indicates that metalworking was a part-time activity of resident
smiths. During the ninth and eighth centuries, the production at local metal work-
shops was transformed significantly.32 For example, there was an increase in the pro-
duction of fibulae, which began to be produced in series, and thus became normal,
customary goods. The major change in metalworking, however, was the general shift
from copper-alloy to iron tools and weapons. In many areas, iron knife blades are
29 Hart 1982. The sequence is discussed in Nijboer 1998, 62–3.

30 Nijboer 1998, 297–338. It needs to be stressed that even in pastoral societies opportunities were
created for exchange on much-frequented locations such as bush markets (Brown 1995, 2).
31 Pare 1999; Peroni 2001; Cardarelli, Pacciarelli and Pallante 2001.
32 See Lehoërff for a thorough description of the changes in bronze working from the twelfth to the
eighth centuries (Lehoërff 2007).

the earliest sign of iron’s acceptance for functional use,33 which is certainly valid for
central Italy during the ninth century. Iron became thoroughly employed during the
eighth century. The almost complete replacement of copper alloy tools and weapons
by iron ones in about 200 to 250 years in Etruria and elsewhere in Italy signifies a
major economic event. During this period, the re-smiting of scrap iron could not fulfill
the increased demand because there was not enough stock. Therefore the smelting of
iron ores had to be intensified. This smelting process was labor and energy intensive.
Thus the transition from copper alloy to iron tools and weapons stimulated the eco-
nomic evolution of the mining regions and had its effects on the rest of Etruria since
it led to increasing craft specialization.34
Gran Carro, a lake settlement located along the borders of Lake Bolsena approxi-
mately 40 km northeast of Vulci, provides a useful overview of the standing of metal-
lurgy prior to EIA 2.35 A small but notable number of metal artifacts, casting debris,
ingots and semi-manufactured products, has been found at the site. Among these are
strands of tin in a workshop and a two-piece stone mold for making small objects. The
data establish the existence of a local foundry and a smithy that had access to quite
a number of metals that probably derived from smelting nearby ores.36 The evidence
from Gran Carro and from other early metalworking sites in Etruria suggests that the
local mineral resources were exploited prior to EIA 2, but not on a large scale.
Populonia is another site with much evidence of metalworking from EIA 1
onwards.37 The site is positioned between various rich mineral deposits.38 Therefore it
had access to a range of metal ores. The settlement has long been accepted as one of
the most important early iron production centers in antiquity, but it is worth noting
that other metals were processed as well. The area immediately around Populonia is
characterized by metal processing in general and not just by iron working. Bartoloni
wrote that Populonia had an open economy during EIA 2 as documented by imports
from Sardinia and Phoenicia.39 Already in the late ninth century, the chamber tomb
had been adopted as a new architectural feature, earlier than in other Etruscan cent-
33 E.g. Snodgrass 1971, 229.

34 Once there was a reservoir of iron tools and weapons, which could be reused, the devaluation of
iron became inevitable (Nijboer 1998, 230–235). There is no evidence for hoarding of just iron.
35 Tamburini 1995, 209–21, 354–62; Bartoloni 1989, 110–11.
36 Giardino and Gigante 1995; Nijboer 1998, 268–70. The imports at Gran Carro are predominantly
metals. The economy at the site was based on the exploitation and processing of nearby resources
with little direct communication, although culturally the site appears to be related to the Latial koinè
(Tamburini 1995, 353–62). The economy at Gran Carro was primarily self-supporting.
37 See chapters 25 Zifferero and 26 Corretti.
38 Giardino 1995, 119–33.
39 Bartoloni 1989, 188; 1991, 20; Giardino 1995, 40–62. See chapters 25 Zifferero and 26 Corretti.

ers.40 According to Nicholas Hartmann, the lack of early iron and Greek imports in the
area around Populonia indicates that Greeks were only interested in the ores.41 This
deduction is primarily based on the assumption that Pithekoussai directed the iron
industry in Italy during EIA 2. This is not substantiated since iron was produced and
exchanged in Italy from around 950 onwards, about 150 years before the arrival of
Euboeans on the peninsula. The scarcity of Greek imports could also imply that Greek
traders were hardly present in this specific region during the eighth century.42
Tarquinia as a main Etruscan center is briefly mentioned because its metallur-
gical output indicates that full-time smiths worked at the site from EIA 2 onwards.
Besides producing customary copper-alloy and iron tools, weapons and ornaments,
these smiths were involved in the manufacture of elite items (bronze crested helmets,
bowls, cups, various types of vessels, incensieri etc.) that are often associated with
elaborate warrior tombs.43
Much of the primary evidence on crafts and industry during EIA 1 and 2 relates to
mining and metalworking. Specialization in ceramic production existed but is limited
for EIA 1 and 2.44
8 Organization of labor
Labor was predominantly organized according to agricultural requirements. Most
of the commodities used for daily life were made in individual households during
slow periods of the seasonal farm labor. For example, Margarita Gleba lists contexts
in which textiles were produced and indicates that quite some households were
involved in textile production.45 The same might be valid for furniture, basketry, most
of the ceramics and some ornaments in bone and horn.
A growth in labor division is recorded for EIA 2. The archaeological evidence dem-
onstrates that economic centralization occurred around resources, natural harbors
and elite homesteads.46 An increase in local production and consumption of goods is
best documented in the extensive Villanovan burial grounds of the ninth and eighth
centuries, which are foremost a reflection of the increasing inequality that accom-
panied the stratification process. The remarkable demand, as recorded in the Late
40 For example, chamber Tomb PPG 7 dates to the first half of the eighth century. Though robbed, it
is associated with imports such as some multi-colored glass beads and silver (Bartoloni et al. 2005).
41 Hartmann 1985, 292.
42 E.g. Nijboer 2008, 444–5.
43 Iaia 2005, especially 221–70.
44 However, see now for Veii, Boitani, Neri and Biagi 2009.
45 Gleba 2008, 162–3; see also chapter 29 Gleba.
46 Nijboer 2006, 132.

Villanovan tombs, led to a progress in craft specialization, which can be studied

as a process. Elizabeth Brumfiel and Timothy Earle described this process of craft
specialization as a complex concept that involves a number of variables, like full- or
part-time specialization, and individual or household specialization.47 These vari-
ables have often led to simple assumptions or wearisome discussions and either/or
answers, while it is more effective to look at these sets of variables as parts of a larger
whole when interpreting the archaeological evidence available for production and
craft specialization. Blending of tasks remained common. Full-time specialization is a
rare phenomenon prior to the establishment of several workshops per craft in towns.
9 Customary and luxury goods

Specialization in everyday, customary goods mainly occurred during EIA 1 and 2 for
copper-alloy and iron ornaments, tools, and weapons in the local smithies. The man-
ufacture of large ceramic storage jars probably required specific skills and kilns. Their
manufacture demonstrates increasing craft specialization though most of the ceram-
ics were still produced in households as a part-time activity.
Luxury goods made by expert craftsmen, such as metal tableware, become more
visible from EIA 2 onwards.48 One could equally point to chariots.49 Many of the pres-
tige goods in Etruria followed prototypes from the Eastern Mediterranean, foremost
from the Levant (Fig. 34.2).50 The local demand for such goods encouraged socio-
economic complexity in Etruria. To quote Bruce Trigger: “What stimulated increased
economic interdependence and political integration in early civilizations seems to
have been the trade and craft specialization by the politically motivated demands of
the upper classes for prestige goods and by expanding markets for better quality mass-
produced commodities as population densities increased.”51 Craft specialization in
relation to luxury items is a different process when compared to specialization for
“commoners.”52 During EIA2 the workshop mode of production is primarily visible in
the manufacture of prestige goods.
47 Brumfiel and Earle 1987, 5. See also Tringham 1996; Nijboer 1998, 37–8.
48 Iaia 2005 (Fig. 40.6).
49 Emiliozzi lists three chariots at Veii prior to 730 (Emiliozzi 1997, 324–7).
50 E.g. Nijboer 2008. Euboean influence is especially traceable in ceramics, which are not considered
luxury goods here. On the impact of the Euboean script see chapter 21 Benelli.
51 Trigger 2003, 342.
52 E.g. Rice 1991, 266.

10 Appropriation of wealth
Appropriation of wealth increased within a context of clan relations. This appropria-
tion was most likely based on rising control over the output of labor.53 It took centu-
ries before land could be privately owned—that is, freely bought and sold; even in
Roman times public land still existed.
A noticeable change in the appropriation of wealth is reflected in the transforma-
tion in hoarding shifting between communal and private interests. The first radical
change is the disappearance of hoards, which merely contain copper-alloy artifacts,
during the eighth century.54 The hoarding of copper-alloy artifacts declined with the
upsurge of iron. The change is probably also associated with other regimes of hoard-
ing. During EIA 2, one can observe two different customs of accumulating metals,
this time in combination with other goods. Metal deposits and hoarding were either
related to individual enhancement as marked by the high-status tombs, or, slightly
later, to a communal ideology as embodied by the votive deposits at some of the sites
where main sanctuaries emerged. From the late ninth century onwards, appropria-
tion of wealth is primarily reconstructed as a result of growing control by a few over
the various products of labor by the many.
11 Conclusion and discussion

In economic terms the clearest features for Etruria during EIA 1 are:
–– The increasing role of a landlocked network of exchange crossing from northeast
to southwest Italy, with Etruria at its core. This network was managed by part-
time traders who gained advantages over the rest of the population by dominat-
ing exchange and communication.
–– The growing exploitation of the local metal ores due to a gradual substitution of
copper-alloy tools and weapons by those of iron.
For EIA 2 there is evidence for:

–– Accelerated population growth.
–– Craft specialization on account of politically motivated demands of the upper
classes for prestige goods.
–– The definite opening of the existing exchange network to overseas merchants/
craftsmen from the Levant and Euboea.
53 E.g. Trigger 2003, 309–10, 376–82.

54 E.g. Nijboer 2001; Lehoërff 2005.

Agricultural land was predominantly collective and probably belonged to clans. Some
rising families within each clan, possibly those managing long-distance exchange,
started to control the labor of their fellows. For economic progress, it seems to have
been important that the emerging upper class found ways to collect and dispose of
surplus production. This gave rise to economic inequality probably in return for socio-
economic protection. So far, the elite in Etruria are best recognized in an ever more
conspicuous funerary ritual, especially from around 800 to 650. For this to happen,
the upper class in Etruria had to appropriate a share of surplus production of the local
resources. Patron-client relations became established and made socially arranged
appropriation feasible.
The economic correlation between supply and demand is essentially regulated
by the size of the population and the coverage of markets. As long as demand favors
production and vice versa, it will sustain increasing social-economic complexity.
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Cristiano Iaia
44 External Relationships, 10th cent.-730 BCE
Abstract: This chapter focuses on the main phenomena of long-distance exchange relationships in
Early Iron Age Etruria. The emergence of new demographic hubs and centers of power resulted in the
general growth in the circulation of raw materials and artifacts. This was accompanied by the selec-
tive transmission of foreign models of material culture, styles, technologies and knowledge. They can
be differentiated according to diachronic development, direction of influences and vectors.
In the initial stages of the Iron Age the connections were mainly oriented towards central and
northern Europe on the one hand, and the great Tyrrhenian island of Sardinia on the other. Most rela-
tionships were centered on the metal trade, but possibly a considerable role may have been played by
other raw materials, such as amber. Connections with continental Europe were associated with the
wide diffusion of bronze artifact typologies, such as antenna swords, elements of armor and ceremo-
nial vessels, presumably transmitted by foreign smiths in the service of local elites. Relations with
the Nuragic civilization, monopolized by maritime north-central Etruria, were of a different nature,
involving imports of small bronze objects and a specific kind of ritual pottery vessel, the askoid jug,
which was also locally imitated by Sardinian immigrants.
In the late ninth and eighth centuries, in association with the reactivation of Mediterranean
colonial movements and trade, central Tyrrhenian Italy started a new cycle of contacts, mainly with
people of the Near East (Levantine, Phoenician) and Greeks.
Oriental goods, especially luxury items, such as ornaments and bronze cups, but also painted
ceramics of Greek manufacture, were increasingly traded. Acceleration of relationships occurred
around the mid eighth century, when the foundation of trading posts and colonies by Euboeans and
Phoenicians (such as Pithekoussai and Sulcis) fostered the immigration of oriental craftsmen and
the transmission of exotic material culture patterns, linked to the areas of commensal practices and
power imagery.
Keywords: Levant, Central Europe, elites, trade, exchange
Introduction
The great territorial and sociopolitical transformation around 930–900 BCE in the
Etruscan area (see chapter 33 Pacciarelli) prompted a process of increasing open-
ness to long-distance exchange, as well as productive and economic centralization.
“Exchange” in this case is intended as a very general label encompassing a wide
range of situations: not only movements of raw materials or finished items, but also
transmission of more intangible things, such as formal models, styles, and techno-
logical traits, as well as rituals and cosmological/religious beliefs.1
1 Compare, for the European Bronze Age, Kristiansen and Larsson 2005.
812 Cristiano Iaia
According to an established view,2 beginning in the latest part of the Bronze Age
(Bronzo Finale, twelfth–tenth centuries), Etruria proper gained a central role in the
long-distance metal trade linking the eastern and central Mediterranean to northern
Alpine Europe, a phenomenon that gave birth to intensified connections with con-
tinental areas. These external links were mediated by important sociopolitical enti-
ties in northern Italy, for example, Frattesina in the Veneto, whose precise relation-
ships with Etruria are currently under debate. In the subsequent Early Iron Age, the
picture appears more intelligible, due to a greater amount of archaeological data. The
nascent proto-urban sites by nature began to attract large quantities of raw mate-
rials, commodities, and people from abroad, and this tended to create patterns of
local material culture that were much more heterogeneous than in the past. For these
reasons, the topic of Etruria’s external relationships in the Early Iron Age is very broad
and intricate.
An oversimplified but useful sequence can be outlined, in which three different
waves of relations occur, each with specific characteristics and a definite chronologi-
cal position. At the initial stage and at the start of the advanced phase of the Early Iron
Age (late tenth–ninth centuries), particularly intense relationships with Sardinia and
with central Europe are observable, while in the course of the late phases (mainly
the eighth century), Mediterranean-based contacts were assuming a growing impor-
tance. In these three waves, different means, and therefore divergent paths, whether
maritime or terrestrial, were employed, and this might have had specific implications
for the vectors and significance of contacts.
1 Relationships with continental Europe

(ca. 930–770)
At the beginning of the Early Iron Age, remarkable interactions between continental
Europe and central Italy are visible mainly in the field of bronze metallurgy.3 An inter-
nal chain of connections and routes that exploited the main river courses northward
and southward facilitated the circulation of material culture. North of the Apennine
mountains a key mediator role was played by emerging central places, such as Este
in the Veneto, Vadena in the lower valley of the Adige River (not far from areas rich in
copper ores), and above all by the huge center of Bologna in the Po plain.4 The latter,
though already established as a demographic hub in the ninth century, in the eighth
2 Bietti Sestieri 1981, 1997.

3 von Hase 1989; Camporeale 1998, 2004.
4 Este: Capuis 1993, 115. Vadena: Marzatico 2001, 445. Bologna: de Marinis 1988, 55.

44 External Relationships, 10th cent.-730 BCE 813
was reaching quasi-urban status.5 Moreover, from the late ninth and early eighth cen-
turies onward, the direction of influence was reversed and north-central Italy became
a starting point for new dissemination of artifact models, especially across the metal-
lurgical districts of Early Hallstatt Europe.6
We should distinguish two different kinds, or patterns, of relations: a “diffuse”
one, and a “directional” one. “Diffuse” exchange involves other areas of Italy and
concerns the sharing, by a large part of the Peninsula, of specific forms and stylistic
features of bronzecraft, mainly attached to the prestige sphere, which are further
attested north of the Alps. A significant example of “diffuse” relations is the Europe-
wide distribution of the remarkable family of swords with solid-cast hilt, espe-
cially antenna swords. Of these, particularly important in Etruria is the Tarquinia
type, which links all of central and northern Italy to central and northern Europe7
(Fig. 44.1). Closely akin to the Tarquinia type, but geographically centered on the
entire middle and northern Adriatic area, are the Fermo and Rocca di Morro types.
Probably the oldest example of an antenna sword in Etruscan territories comes from
an outstanding warrior burial discovered in the necropolis of Arcatelle at Tarquinii
(second half of the ninth century in traditional chronology), which suggests that
the use and funerary deposition of this kind of weapon is linked to an emerging top
level of social standing8 (Fig. 41.2).
Another significant type of antenna sword is the one called Weltenburg-
Corcelettes.9 It is documented by a few pieces at Bologna and in northern Italy,10 and
testifies to strong connections between the northwestern Alps and the northern Vil-
lanovan groups, possibly controlled by Bologna.
Even though antenna swords represent uncommon—albeit culturally signifi-
cant—finds in Villanovan burials, in the absence of archaeometric investigations it
is difficult to determine which were imports and which were local products made by
artisans with a Central European metallurgical culture.
“Directional” contacts with Europe north of the Alps are best represented by style
and formal characteristics of the sheet bronze production which flourished in Villano-
van Etruria, earlier in the southernmost area and later north of the Apennines.11 The
sheet bronze industry has been a recurrent subject for scholars interested in highlight-
ing long-distance connections of Italy with northern and Central Europe in the Urn-
field period.12 The topic of bronze helmets illustrates the initial stages of this phenom-
5 Ortalli 2008.
6 Camporeale 2004, 113; Iaia 2005, 242.
7 Müller-Karpe 1961; Bianco Peroni 1970; von Quillfeldt 1995; de Marinis 1999.
8 Iaia 2005, 77.
9 Müller-Karpe 1961; von Quillfeldt 1995.
10 Bianco Peroni 1970, 120–123.
11 See also chapter 40 Iaia.
12 E.g.: von Merhart 1952; Jockenhövel 1974.

814 Cristiano Iaia
Fig. 44.1: Distribution of prestige bronze items connecting Etruria with continental Europe
(10th to 8th cent. BCE)

enon. In Etruria proper, the earliest examples of bronze helmets, found at Tarquinii
and Populonia, date to early and advanced Phase 1.13 They have some similarities with
the helmet class known as Glockenhelme, or glockenförmige Helme mit gegossenem
Scheitelknauf (“Bell-shaped helmets with cast knobs”), whose major concentration is
in the Carpathian Basin and the middle Danube area14 (Fig. 44.1). These similarities
lie in their general shape, and more particularly some technical characteristics: for
instance, the application of Überfangguss, a sophisticated technique, well known in
Late Bronze Age central and northern Europe, of attaching a bronze socketed knob to
the helmet, casting it directly on the sheet with the aid of a removable mold.
The initial manufacture of sheet bronze vessels was even more dependent, if pos-
sible, on trans-Alpine models, techniques and stylistic patterns.15 Most bronze cups
found in Early Villanovan burials (local phases 1–2A) belong to the Stillfried-Hostomice
model, a peculiar form whose finds are especially concentrated in ninth-century con-
texts around the middle Danube and Elbe river valleys16 (Fig. 44.1). Manufacture of
these items in Italy was geographically restricted to just a few sites: it seems to have
been a monopoly of Tarquinii and Bologna, even though a few specimens have been
found outside these centers, probably as imports.17 Another important outcome of the
same bronzecraft in Etruria that reveals close trans-Alpine connections is the “necked
amphora.” It belongs to a Late Urnfield and Early Hallstatt class mainly attested in
the form of cinerary urns in outstanding burials or as sacred offerings in hoards, with
particular concentration in northern Europe18 (Fig. 44.1).
The most significant bronze necked amphora from southern Etruria, found in the
“princely” tomb AA1 of Veii (Fig. 44.2a),19 finds its best comparison in northwestern
Germany, at Gevelinghausen20 (Fig. 44.2b), and secondarily in specimens from north-
ern Europe (northern Germany, Scandinavia, Poland), such as Herzberg, Przęsławice,
and Seddin.21 Both vessels from Veii and Gevelinghausen were decorated by emboss-
ing and stamping with a specific version of the Sun-Bird ship or Vogel-Sonnen-Barke
motif, further linking these artifacts to a wide central/northern-European network of
the Urnfield and Early Hallstatt age.22 Though roots of this ornamentation are well
grounded in the Late Bronze Age, only from the Early Villanovan period did it gain
13 Iaia 2005, 47.

14 Eastern Hungary, Romania, and other areas of East-Central Europe: Clausing 2001, with references.
See chapter 40 Iaia.
15 See chapter 40 Iaia.
16 Kytlicova 1991; Jacob 1995; Iaia 2005.
17 E.g. Fossa, Abruzzo: Cosentino, D’Ercole and Mieli 2004, 232, pl. 190.2.
18 Jockenhövel 1974; von Hase 1989; Metzner-Nebelsick 1997.
19 Franco, Mallet and Wacher 1970.
20 Jockenhövel 1974; Iaia 2005, 163–170.
21 Metzner-Nebelsick 1997.
22 Wirth 2006 with references; Iaia 2013.

816 Cristiano Iaia
Fig. 44.2: Bronze necked amphorae of the Veii-Seddin-Gevelinghausen type. a: Veii (Rome),
tomb AA1 (after NS 1970); b: Gevelinghausen (Meschede, Germany) (after Jacob 1995)
favor in Etruria as the most specific decorative style applied to prestige bronze items,23
particularly those symbolically connected to manifestations of the utmost power,
such as helmets, shields, belts, and ceremonial vessels.24
The relations illustrated above could possibly be explained by the existence of
a vast network of links among regional elites, but questions arise about the precise
agents of these exchanges. A possibility is that some particularly skilled metal smiths
had a major role in facilitating such a relationship, for example by transmitting their
particular skills to distant communities that “spoke” a similar stylistic language.
Dealing with this Villanovan-northern European connection, K. Kristiansen argued
for a possible relation with the amber trade, which around 850–800 began to assume
again great importance in a wider European context.25 Reciprocal formal connections
in northern Europe and Italy, specifically illustrated by Stillfried-Hostomice cups,
Veii-Gevelinghausen-Seddin vessels, and antenna swords, seem to speak in favor
of this idea. This phenomenon could have been the forerunner of north-south trade
movements becoming more substantial by the second half of the eighth century. In
that period Italian imports north of the Alps were steadily growing,26 apparently in
relation to the flourishing of Verucchio and Vetulonia as the foci of the amber trade
in Europe.27
23 Iaia 2005, 224–238.

25 Kristiansen 1993.
26 von Hase 1989.
27 Camporeale 2007; see chapter 40 Iaia.

2 Relationships with Sardinia

(ca 930–770 and beyond)
A contemporary connection, but totally different in nature, links Villanovan Etruria
to the Nuragic civilization of Sardinia, the great island of the central Mediterranean.
It is mainly represented by the numerous and typologically variable imports of bronze
and ceramic items in burial contexts, which are hugely concentrated in coastal north-
central Etruria (Populonia, Vetulonia, and minor sites), but with substantial occur-
rences in southern Etruria (Vulci, Tarquinii, Caere) and Campania (Pontecagnano)28
as well (Fig. 44.3). Artifacts found so far consist chiefly of small bronzes, such as
anthropomorphic figurines, pendants, buttons, daggers, and faretrine votive (votive
quivers), and exemplars of a specific ceramic shape, the askoid jug. Remarkable evi-
dence, albeit only based on stylistic analyses, suggest a possible manufacture in the
peninsula of Nuragic-type bronzes, such as buttons and faretrine.29 Larger items, such
as the exceptional bronze votive boats, whose deposition in Tyrrhenian contexts is
a slightly later phenomenon,30 are an equally significant—albeit rare—occurrence.
On the opposite side of the Tyrrhenian sea, in Sardinia, the presence of Early Iron
Age imports from the Peninsula (especially fibulae, a kind of ornament not typical of
native attire) is attested as well, though on a more limited scale.31
In Nuragic Sardinia, a flourishing and sophisticated bronze industry, associated
with the emergence of monumental cult places, saw its starting point during the latest
part of the Bronze Age (twelfth–mid tenth centuries), when it was exposed to pro-
found and enduring influence from the Cypriot and Iberian metallurgical traditions.32
A recent chronological investigation of Nuragic metal hoards and votive depositions33
has led to the conclusion that this exceptional bronze workmanship reached an acme
during the Early Iron Age, especially in its earliest stages (late tenth–ninth centuries).
At that time Sardinian bronzecraft, though evidently separate from the metallurgi-
cal tradition of the Peninsula, seems to have been influenced by Villanovan Etruria
28 Lo Schiavo 1994; Bartoloni 1997; Lo Schiavo 2002; Milletti 2012, 206.
29 Milletti 2012, 209.
30 Lo Schiavo 2000. Dating of Nuragic boats to the Early Iron Age Phase 2, at the latest, is proved by
the Falda della Guardiola hoard (Populonia) (Bianco Peroni 1970, n. 270; Lo Schiavo 2000, 143) and
the recently discovered tomb 74 in the necropolis of Monte Vetrano, in southern Campania, dating
to the third quarter of the eighth century (Iannelli 2011). According to some authors, finds in later
contexts (in burials of the Orientalizing period at Vetulonia and in Greek sanctuaries in southern
Italy) could well be “heirlooms,” preserved through many generations until they were eventually
deposited in a burial or votive context: e.g. Lo Schiavo 2000, 2002; Milletti 2012.
31 Lo Schiavo 1978, 2002; Gras 1980; Milletti 2012.
32 Lo Schiavo 2008, with references.
33 Ialongo 2010.

818 Cristiano Iaia
Fig. 44.3: Distribution of the main items of Nuragic manufacture or imitation in Italy, all of bronze
except the first: pottery askoid jugs, votive boats, buttons, miniature containers, flask pendants,
votive quivers, anthropomorphic figurines (after Falconi Amorelli 1966; Bartoloni 1997;
Delpino 2002; Lo Schiavo 2002; Lo Schiavo 2008)

in some specific fields, as visible in the precise typological characteristics of bronze

spearheads and the related butt-spikes (saurōtēr).
In this perspective, the presence of several Nuragic objects in Villanovan con-
texts could assume a definite meaning. In particular it suggests a maritime connec-
tion which, in the framework of a complex trade system, linked proto-urban centers
committed to exploiting metal rich areas (the Colline Metallifere and the island of
Elba), such as Vetulonia and Populonia, to a multitude of Nuragic communities. The
latter beginning in the Late Bronze Age were intensely engaged in seafaring activities,
as is increasingly recognized in recent studies.34 The maximum intensity of this phe-
nomenon can now be fixed, especially given the abovementioned study35 and burial
contexts in the Etruscan area, to the mid ninth and early eighth centuries, but with
more limited continuation through the eighth century.36
This Tyrrhenian connection was probably not limited to the metal trade but
was profoundly significant throughout the local societies and cultures, as suggested
by the presence in most Villanovan centers, but with striking concentration in the
burials at Vetulonia, of askoid jugs, a typically Nuragic ceramic shape37 (distribution
map in Figure 44.3). Chemical analyses of the composition of the clay of examples
from Vetulonia show that a high percentage of them were locally manufactured, while
a few (possibly the oldest ones) were imported from Sardinia.38 The most reasonable
hypothesis is to see the exemplars found at Vetulonia as objects transported or repro-
duced by immigrants who, according to G. Camporeale, might have played a role in
metallurgy.39 The evidence as a whole suggests that the inclination for this ceramic
shape in Villanovan Etruria was mainly due to its use in connection to alcoholic bev-
erages, probably wine, in the framework of rites of commensality and cult activity.40
Individual mobility and direct personal relationships, as in the form of marriage and
gift exchange, have been suggested even in regard to the inclusion of prestige items
of Nuragic manufacture (mostly small bronzes) in Villanovan elite burials, mainly
34 Lo Schiavo 2000. Conversely, there is no need to refer Nuragic imports in Italy to Phoenician
mediation (e.g. Gastaldi 1994; Cygielman and Pagnini 2002). A Nuragic-Phoenician “partnership”
based on the procurement of metals is argued, on different grounds, in Botto 2007, 81.
35 Ialongo 2010.
36 Delpino 2002; Ialongo 2010.
37 Delpino 2002; Camporeale 2007; Lo Schiavo 2008.
38 Cygielman and Pagnini 2002.
39 Camporeale 2007, 40. This aspect can be further highlighted by the pan-Mediterranean distribution
of askoid jugs, from Iberia and northern Africa (Carthage) to Crete via Sicily (Lo Schiavo 2008, 433,
fig. 13), which could indicate a pattern of mobility of Nuragic groups along a route connecting the
eastern and western Mediterranean.
40 Delpino 2002.

820 Cristiano Iaia
Fig. 44.4: Small bronze objects (statuette and miniature furniture) of Nuragic manufacture from
Vulci, ‘Tomba dei Bronzetti Sardi’ (after Falconi Amorelli 1966)
female, such as the famous ‘Tomba dei Bronzetti Sardi’ at Vulci41 (Fig. 44.4), or in
comparable contexts at Pontecagnano.42
There may have been many reasons for this “partnership.” Despite huge differ-
ences in social systems and cultures, early Etruscans and Nuragic Sardinians shared
probably similar aptitudes at least for maritime activities, as indicated for example
by the symbolic focus on boats in the ritual and cult sphere.43 This could have led
to a strategy of pursuing common interests in the control of Tyrrhenian sea routes,
but also to exchanges of valuable raw materials (metal, amber, salt, etc.), transfers of
knowledge (metallurgical technology), and political alliances.
41 Falconi Amorelli 1966.

42 Lo Schiavo 1994; Bartoloni 1989.
43 For Villanovan Etruria, see Castello and Mandolesi 2010.

3 Relationships with the eastern Mediterranean

(ca 830–730)
At the start of the Late Villanovan period (Early Iron Age Phase 2), Etruria saw an
acceleration of processes toward settlement nucleation and sociopolitical centraliza-
tion.44 Radical transformations affected most aspects of local proto-urban communi-
ties, involving the development throughout the entire “Villanovan koine” of much
more diversified economies and the emergence of new wealthy social groups, con-
ventionally called “aristocracies.”45 The growth in circulation of goods, especially
luxury items, as well as of formal models, rituals, and ideological attitudes along the
Tyrrhenian shores are elements of a very complex Mediterranean-wide picture that
can be fully understood only by taking into account a vast array of sources of informa-
tion, both archaeological and written.46 This picture is dominated by the appearance
of new historical agents of Oriental origin, Phoenician and Levantine peoples and
Greeks, who engaged in the reactivation of maritime trade routes, which have already
been exploited by local peoples since the Late Bronze Age.
Scholars have long debated the issue of primacy, and the scale of impact on local
cultures, of Phoenicians versus Greeks in the flourishing trade activities during the
period 900–770. This is the stage controversially called “pre-colonization.” At the
moment, there is agreement that the Near Eastern presence in the central Mediter-
ranean, especially involving Cypriot, Levantine, and Phoenician maritime activities,
was slightly earlier than the Greek presence.47 Moreover, even for the later phases of
the East-West connection, given the heterogeneity and archaeologically mixed char-
acter of Iron Age Mediterranean trading sites, some scholars have admitted growing
difficulties in precisely discerning the ethnic identity of the “merchant agents”48 who
were involved in trade activities. In the framework of this trade, which may have been
centered on metal procurement along the Tyrrhenian coasts, some rare specimens of
luxury imports of generic Near Eastern production (Levantine, Cypriot, north Syrian)
were reaching the shores of peninsular Italy, but only sporadically and irregularly.49
Specifically these are bronze basins and cups, not attributable to definite workshops.
A similar intermittent pattern characterizes the first Greek imports found in south-
44 For southern Etruria, see Iaia and Mandolesi 2010.

45 Bartoloni 2003.
46 A historical overview: Domínguez 2007.
47 The literature on this topic is enormous: general references regarding Italy and Sardinia in Botto
2007; Nijboer 2008. From a Greek perspective: Ridgway 2002. A useful synthesis is in Riva 2010, 46.
48 See Ridgway 2002. In particular, outstanding discoveries at Iberian sites, such as at Huelva (maybe
ancient Tartessos: Gonzalez De Canales, Serrano and Llompart 2004), along with the well-known
evidence from the village of Sant’Imbenia in northwestern Sardinia (Botto 2007), have revealed the
possible coexistence of Sardinians and Phoenicians.
49 Nijboer 2006; Sciacca 2010.

822 Cristiano Iaia
ern Villanovan contexts, pottery drinking vessels classified as “pendent semicircle”

skyphoi, and Middle Geometric II chevrons skyphoi, with comparable specimens in
Campania, Sardinia, and Sicily, though at this moment it is impossible to specify the
vectors of their transmission.50
A more definite aspect of trade with the eastern Mediterranean started in coinci-
dence with the founding of new Greek and Phoenician trading posts, variably called
“colonies” or “emporia,” around 770–750, that is, in southern Etruscan terms, in the
local Early Iron Age Phase 2b. The largest of these centers appear to be Pithekous-
sai on the island of Ischia, which was founded by the Euboeans,51 and the Phoeni-
cian colonial foundation of Sulcis in southwestern Sardinia.52 Both are particularly
representative of the intermixing between Greeks and Levantine people which seems
to characterize this period, and could have been responsible for the transmission of
several cultural traits of Mediterranean origin (especially technical skills) to main-
land Italy, notably Etruria.
From this period on, the south of central Tyrrhenian Italy became the focus of a
deep cultural transformation, involving the growing appropriation and reinterpreta-
tion of numerous Oriental elements into the local material culture, mainly aimed at
the nascent ruling elites’ needs for ostentation. Beginning in the first half of the eighth
century, in the wealthy female (sometimes also male) burials of affluent centers such
as Veii, Pontecagnano, Cumae and Capua, a great array of small ornaments of eastern
manufacture or locally imitated were deposited, including faïence scarabs, seals,
figural pendants, and beads.53 At the same time, grave-sets attributable to top members
of the late Villanovan communities comprised metal ceremonial objects which,
although often manufactured according to well-established local craft traditions,54
were employed in rituals influenced by the Oriental power imagery.55 These include
circular shields and chariots in military symbolism, as well as fans, spits, firedogs,
bronze flasks, cauldrons, hemispherical basins, and tripods in the framework of com-
mensal practices.56 Around 750, the ceremonial equipment of the Etruscan elite was
enriched by the appearance of a new vessel form directly adopted from Near Eastern
banqueting customs—the bronze ribbed bowl (It. patere baccellate),57 which was spe-
cifically linked to the consumption of wine, and also marked the introduction of new
technological skills, possibly through the immigration of craftsmen.
50 Ridgway 2002. On Pontecagnano, d’Agostino 2014, with references.

51 Ridgway 2000.
52 Botto 2007.
53 Sciacca 2010. On the remarkable amount of aegyptiaca at Capua, especially scarabs of presumable
Phoenician production, see Melandri 2011, 414–424.
55 Nijboer 2008. A critical look at Orientalizing and Orientalization: Riva 2010, 39–176.
56 Iaia 2010.
57 Sciacca 2005.

Greek pottery craftsmen, possibly coming from Pithekoussai, were also respon-
sible for the introduction to central Tyrrhenian Italy of a new class of wheel-made
painted tableware, following stylistic patterns of Euboean origin, which included
ceramic vessels such as cups and jugs.58 It was especially in Campania and southern
Etruria that this kind of tableware was highly prized, for example at Veii and Pon-
tecagnano, where it is found in several burials, sometimes without any elite connota-
tion, as part of drinking sets for wine consumption.
This opening to pan-Mediterranean connectivity that characterizes the eighth
century in Etruria was not a one-way process. Evidence of circulation of Late Villano-
van–Early Orientalizing metal products from Etruria appears in the East, although in
the specific aspect of votive offerings found in Hellenic sanctuaries such as Delphi,
Olympia, Dodona, and Samos.59 Interpreting this evidence is not an easy task. Many
hypotheses have been put forward, even considering the wider framework of the pres-
ence of objects from the European “barbarian” world in Greek sanctuaries. A great
number of Early Iron Age bronze spearheads, many of which are possibly from south-
ern Italy, can be interpreted as spoils of war offered by Greek colonists after victo-
ries over Italics, but this view hardly applies to elements of Villanovan manufacture
such as swords, sheet bronze helmets, and shields. These are elements of weaponry
employed as symbols of power by leaders of the local communities, a fact that renders
likely their direct dedication by illustrious members of the early Etruscan aristocra-
cy.60 The same can be said of other prestige goods found in Greek sanctuaries, mainly
of early Orientalizing date (late eighth–early seventh centuries), such as horsebits,
bronze vessels and thrones, fibulae (maybe connected to the dedication of clothing),
and so on.
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60 See the comments in Naso 2006. See chapter 87 Naso.

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IV. Civilization
Orientalizing period
Mauro Menichetti
45 Art, 730–580 BCE
Abstract: The Etruscan art of the Orientalizing period spans from the end of the eighth to the begin-
ning of the sixth century BCE (around 740/720–600/580). However, the formation of what we call
Orientalizing culture took much longer, and has deep roots in the latter part of the Iron Age (between
the ninth and eighth centuries). This is when, inside the so-called Villanovan culture, it is possible to
find clear evidence of social differentiation and a well-structured hierarchy whose leaders possessed
a power that manifested itself through the possession of arms and the practice of religious rites. These
new aristocrats accumulate wealth from owning land and from having an ample repertoire of prestig-
ious goods, technologies, and behaviors that represent a superior social level, which manifests itself
in a new lifestyle.
Keywords: aristocracy, Near East, painting, architecture, sculpture
Introduction
The Etruscan art of the Orientalizing period spans from the end of the eighth to the
beginning of the sixth century BCE (around 740/720–600/580). However, the forma-
tion of what we call Orientalizing culture took much longer, and has deep roots in
the latter part of the Iron Age (between the ninth and eighth centuries). This is when,
inside the so-called Villanovan culture, it is possible to find clear evidence of a social
differentiation and a well-structured hierarchy whose leaders possessed a power
that manifested itself through the possession of arms and the practice of religious
rites. These new aristocrats accumulate wealth from owning land and from having an
ample repertoire of prestigious goods, technologies, and behaviors that represent a
superior social level, which manifests itself in a new lifestyle.1
At this early stage, between the Villanovan and Orientalizing periods, there are
already forms of handcrafted production and exchange that include the well-docu-
mented relationships with Greece and the Near East. The value of such products is
increased by the specialized skills necessary to make them, the decorative elements
they represent, or their exotic derivation. In this regard, in the Orientalizing period,
the Etruscan lords (àristoi) create a language of power that transforms the ancient
warriors chiefs into principes who want to adopt a lifestyle similar to that of the kings
and aristocrats of the Near East, Egypt and Greece, and aim at imitating the trium-
phant achievements of the kings or those wonderful and superhuman feats of the
heroes of Greek mythology.2
1 Colonna 2000; Rathje 2010.

2 Principi 2000; Bartoloni 2003; De Santis 2005; Drago Troccoli 2005.
832 Mauro Menichetti
Within this framework, Etruscan Orientalizing art can only be understood if it is

included within a complex network of relationships on a Mediterranean scale. The
traditional definition of “Orientalizing” shows the most visible aspects of this art,
seen in relationship with the kingdoms and the city-states of the Near East.3 However,
another basic reference point for the new lifestyle elaborated by the Etruscan aristoc-
racies is offered by the Greek world,4 which offers artisanal techniques and cultural
patterns found both in the Homeric epic and mythological stories.5 The relationship
with the Greek world is also facilitated by the foundation of Greek colonies (apoikiai)
in Italy, starting from the middle of the eighth century, which gave the Etruscan-Latin
world a complex technology, namely writing, very likely derived from the Euboean
tradition of the new colonial settlements of Pithecusae (Ischia) and Cumae.6
1 An international culture

From the “Bernardini Tomb” of Praeneste (today Palestrina, in Latium) comes a Phoe-
nician circular bowl7 made of gilded silver and decorated by a concentric series of
images, starting from the most external stripe, delimited by a snake in a circular form
(Fig. 45.1). The images depict the celebration of the king’s deeds8 as he leaves the city
and passes through the countryside, where he hunts, offers sacrifices to the gods,
defeats monstrous figures with divine help, and returns to his fortified city. Apart from
the median stripe with horses and birds, the central scene is of great interest in its rep-
resentation of a king-pharaoh who triumphs over his enemies. The bowl belongs to a
typology widespread in Cyprus, Crete and Greece, and in particular in Italy during the
seventh century.9 It gives clear evidence of the vast circulation of images enhancing
and strengthening the language of power of these warrior-kings.
This sample sufficiently demonstrates how the culture of Etruscan (and Latin)
principes of the Orientalizing period is fully integrated into a wider framework of inter-
national relationships managed by groups that, broadly speaking, can be defined as
aristocratic.10 The lifestyle of Etruscan aristocrats displays a language of power that
tends to transform itself in a ceremonial code. The development of a prestigious life-
3 Burkert 1998; d’Agostino 2000; Delpino and Flourentzos 2000; Prayon and Röllig 2000; Oriente
2005; Riva and Vella 2006; Rendeli 2007.
4 Torelli 2000b.
6 Gras 2000; Tsetskhladze 2006.
7 Neri 2000.
8 Marinatos 2001.
9 Markoe 1985.
10 Menichetti 2000; Naso 2000.

45 Art, 730–580 BCE 833
Fig. 45.1: Circular bowl from Praeneste (photo SAR-Laz)
style turns into a ceremony including gestures, codified actions and performances,
that includes the custom of receiving gifts, the symposium-banquet and marriage,
all powerful tools to form alliances and to establish socio-political ties. Furthermore,
this code provides for the use of insignia of military, political, and religious power11
(shields, clubs, scepters, flabella, axes and the lituus (Fig. 45.2), religious symbol of
the Etrusca disciplina); the construction of a cultural memory through the celebration
of one’s own ancestors; and the representation of a privileged relationship with death
and the divine world so that principes can present themselves as heroes.12 The con-
nective tissue of this code corresponds to a display of wealth (tryphè or habrosyne).
This wealth alludes to the lifestyle of the gods, and—through the exotic provenience
of behaviors, techniques and objects (for example, ostrich eggs)—shows a “geogra-
phy of the world” in a way similar to that of the kings of the Near East, represented
while receiving the war chest or other gifts from far off lands. The almost mythologi-
cal figures of Croesus, king of Lydia, of Midas, king of Phrygia, or Arganthonios, king
11 Bonghi Jovino 2000; Tassi Scandone 2001; Torelli 2006; Fortunelli 2008.
12 Delpino and Bartoloni 2000.

Fig. 45.2: Trumpet-lituus from Tarquinia (photo SAR-Laz)
of Tarthish in Spain, whose incredible wealth is mentioned in literary sources, will

become a model for the Etruscan principes.13
Between the ninth and seventh centuries, the Neo-Assyrian Empire assumes a
leading role in the Near East, together with Egypt and the small kingdoms and city-
states of the Syrian-Phoenician-Palestine belt.14 The Neo-Assyrian empire creates an
extraordinary language of power through images.15 The walls of the regal palaces of
Kalkhu-Nimrud, Khorsabad and Quyunjik-Ninive are completely covered in slabs with
reliefs whose uninterrupted sequence narrates the war deeds of kings, the defeating
of enemies, the homage defeated enemies had to pay, and the lion hunt (and other
wild animals) symbolizing the absolute power of the king. From the Northern Palace
of Quyunjik-Ninive comes a notable relief that depicts King Assurbanipal and the
Queen at a banquet, dated to around 640 (Fig. 45.3). On the right, the king is laying
on a bed (kline) and in front of him Queen Assur-serrat is seated on a high throne
with footrest. To the left, the severed head of King Te-umman is hanging from a tree
and alludes to Assurbanipal’s victory. The entire scene gives the impression of a very
solemn and luxurious ceremony, with people delivering the war chest or servants
attending the regal couple with ceremonial fans and flabella. The kline and the throne
are richly decorated with inlays or appliques and refer to the splendor (habrosyne) of
the furniture, paired with the consumption of luxurious drinks. As a matter of fact,
the king and queen are both drinking—most likely wine—according to the grapevine
covering the scene, which is similar to the golden one produced by the bronze crafts-
man Theodoros of Samos for the Persian kings.16 The consumption of wine in the Near
East assumes the ceremonial form of the marzeah, one of the roots from which the
symposium originates, adopted by the Greek and Latial-Etruscan aristocracies.
The goblet held by King Assurbanipal in the relief is lost, on the contrary the
Queen holds in her hand a ribbed bowl. Between the ninth and seventh centuries,
13 Muscarella 1989; DeVries 2000.

14 Liverani 2000; Gunter 2009.
15 Matthiae 2007.
16 Athen. 12, 514F.

45 Art, 730–580 BCE 835
Fig. 45.3: Relief with king Assurbanipal and detail (after Sciacca 2007, fig. 16)

Fig. 45.4: Gold ribbed bowls from Nimrud (after Sciacca 2007, fig. 13)
this typology is widespread in Assyria, Urartu, Iran and, to a lesser degree, Syria,
Anatolia, Cyprus, Greece and the Iberian Peninsula; it is completely lacking in Phoe-
nicia. But its largest diffusion is in Italy, with almost 300 samples between the last
quarter of the eighth and the middle of the seventh century. The ribbed bowls convey
a definite meaning as shown, for example, by their discovery also in the Nimrud royal
tombs (Fig. 45.4). In the entire Middle East, the ribbed bowl has to do with the king or
his court, and signals that wine and its ownership are a privileged gift to deities or a
tribute offered by defeated enemies to the victorious king.17
Oriental products were already circulating during the Villanovan period, but the
quick diffusion of the ribbed bowls in the early Orientalizing period reveals the adop-
tion of a real lifestyle comparing the Etruscan àristoi to the Middle and Near Eastern
kings. It is worth to observe that ribbed bowls only come from Etruscan high-ranking
tombs.
At first the ribbed bowls are produced in the Middle East, and begin to circulate
in the western Mediterranean thanks to the tight connections between Phoenician
(or Oriental) trade and Greek (mainly Euboean) trade. Later, ribbed bowls are likely
17 Sciacca 2005; 2010.

45 Art, 730–580 BCE 837
manufactured by Oriental craftsmen located in the western areas. Later still, we find
local production of ribbed bowls by Etruscan apprentices, which reveal variations in
shape and use. This process indicates a more general phenomenon connected with
the features of the contemporary trade, because technologies and artisans—as well
as ideas and cultural patterns—circulate together with goods. The ribbed bowls were
symbol of the Middle Eastern royalty and of the linked gift system. They suddenly
disappear around the middle of the seventh century, making way for different cul-
tural patterns in the frame of the rapid change and development of the Etruscan and
Roman world during the Orientalizing period. For example around the middle of the
seventh century, the nobleman Demaratus of Corinth, who is forced to abandon his
own city, takes refuge in the Etruscan city of Tarquinia, marries a woman of noble
birth, and one of his sons moves to Rome to become King Tarquinius Priscus. These
aristocracies continue to operate on a Mediterranean scale and share a common life-
style that glorifies wealth as an instrument through which it is possible to legitimize
one’s own political, social, and economic power.18 On the other hand, the example of
Demaratus makes the increasing influence of the Greek world clear.
2 The “landscape of power”:

the palace and the tomb
The new power of the Etruscan principes becomes fully visible through two architec-
tural structures that define the landscape in a much more incisive and spectacular
way than in earlier periods. The circular hut made of lightweight materials and with
a thatched roof continues to be used during most of the seventh century, but starting
in the middle of the century, square planned houses are introduced.19 The House of
Impluvium at Rosellae20 is one such house. At Acquarossa (Viterbo) and Murlo (Siena),
we also find houses with stone foundations in opus quadratum and walls constructed
of uncooked mudbricks, or wooden frames and stones able to support heavier clay tile
roofs, and cut out akroteria where the artisan carves the shadow of a figure in clay.
Moreover, in the second half of the seventh century, we find another house plan—the
pastàs house—well known in Greece and most likely with an Eastern influence. A
rectangular space, with the entrance on the long side giving access to three rooms,
the pastàs house seems to be particularly suitable to signal the status and the prestige
of the family, as effectively exemplified in the “Tomb of the Shields and the Chairs”
18 Kurke 1992; Cristofani and Martelli 1994; Martelli 2008.

19 Prayon 1975; Naso 2001; van Kampen 2003.
20 Donati 1994.

Fig. 45.5: Plan of Murlo (courtesy A. Tuck)
at Caere. Two carved thrones flank the central door, while some carved shields—no
longer military armory—hang on the wall, symbolizing the family’s rank and power.
The transformations of this period can be fully observed in the Murlo palace, built
around 590 (Fig. 45.5).21 Around a central court with a portico on three sides is a series
of rooms; on the northwestern side we find a complex of three rooms opening toward
the courtyard, where there is a small building around which religious ceremonies of
the princeps’ family (gens) would probably have taken place. Around the courtyard,
there was a series of slabs with reliefs depicting ceremonial scenes that symbolize the
family’s prestige. These include a banquet, horse races, a marriage procession with the
bride, and an assembly of the principal gods (Fig. 45.6), the last of which was intended
to show the familiarity and intimacy between the gods and the princeps’ family. On
the roof of the building and easily visible from a distance, more than twenty statues,
sitting among real and imaginary animals, represent the ancestors who protect a real
regia, and signal the power of the princeps throughout the territory.22
21 Sassatelli 2000; Torelli 2000a; Flusche 2001.

22 Edlund Berry 1992.

45 Art, 730–580 BCE 839
Fig. 45.6: Relief with deities from Murlo (photo SAT)
The Murlo palace requires a very high level of organization and a high quality
of complex artisanal techniques. Ancient authors – in particular Pliny the Elder
(HN 35. 151–152) – shed light on these techniques. In this way we know the aforemen-
tioned nobleman Demaratus, fleeing from Korinthos, arrives in Etruria with a painter,
Ekphantos, and with a team of fictores whose names describe their profession and
skills. There is Eucheir (“good-hands”); Eugrammos (“good drawer”) and Dìopos
(likely meaning “good architect”). From this story, we can identify the latest archi-
tecture, painting, and sculpture techniques from the Greek world. In this context, a
new form of clay decoration begins to expand, giving also the possibility of making
statues, akroteria, and slabs with reliefs.
In addition to the palace, the tomb is the other great symbol of aristocratic power.
One can observe how monumental tombs with multiple depositions replace pit tombs
and well tombs. These monumental tombs resemble the inside of the house and express
the strength of family ties.23 Since earlier times, the tombs are covered by great barrows
that occupy the necropolis of Etruria’s main cities.24 The cremation of the deceased—
which recalls the Homeric rite noted for Patroclus funeral—is only the final step of a
complex procedure that involves the transport of the dead (Gk. ekphorà) to the tomb
where a long and complex series of ritual ceremonies take place. The areas in front of
the tombs are often set up in a way that the gens can easily attend the ceremony.25 In
other cases, a podium with steps allows people and the religious officers to stand on
the mound in order to perform the religious rites. Finally, the deposition of the body
23 Waarsenburg 2001.
24 Bartoloni 2000; Zifferero 2000; Naso 2007; 2011.
25 Colonna 1993.

Fig. 45.7: Statues from Casale Marit-

timo (photo SAT)
inside the tomb is accompanied by the deposition of the funerary set, the value of
which is evident by the number of objects and the quality of precious materials.
Inside the burial mound there are multiple tombs, which makes the meaning of
nomen gentilicium (established during the seventh century) clear (Fig. 47.1). That is
to say that the aristocratic groups are able to identify themselves through the pres-
ence of an ancestor, whose memory is made permanent by his nomen. The tumulus
represents the cultural memory of the princeps and his dynasty, which is transmitted
not only through the architectural form of the tomb, but also through its sculptures
and paintings. The architectural form of the tumulus probably derives from exam-
ples found in the Near East and Anatolia, also well known in Greece, as showing the
case of Salamina of Cyprus.26 Homer also mentions a tumulus situated on a headland
facing the sea in honor of Achilles.27
The majority of accounts regarding Etruscan sculpture of the Orientalizing
period come from funerary contexts. Around 680 at Ceri, near Caere, two imagines
maiorum are carved in the interior of a tomb that derive from northern Syrian exam-
26 Naso 1998.
27 Hom. Od. XXIV 71–84.

45 Art, 730–580 BCE 841
Fig. 45.8: Tomb of the Roaring Lions (courtesy TPA, Carabinieri)
ples (Fig. 35.4).28 The tomb of the Five Chairs in Caere dates to 640.29 One room con-
tains five chairs on which clay statuettes were seated, two mensae, two empty chairs
for the dead lying in the adjacent room, a small altar and a container. The entire set
is extraordinarily interesting, because it literally represents the post mortem reunion
of the family.
Two statues, recently found during the excavations at Casale Marittimo in the
area of Volterra, date to the same period (Fig. 45.7).30 The statues, made of limestone,
are represented with belts and loincloths. It is still unknown whether they were ever
located on the burial mound. Finally, dating back to the last quarter of the seventh
century are eight limestone statues standing in a position of mourning, arranged
along the dromos of the “Tumulo della Pietrera” in Vetulonia. All of these sculpture
groups derive from Near Eastern models and might as easily have been made by Ori-
ental artisans in Etruria as by local craftsmen deeply influenced by Near Eastern pat-
terns. At any rate, the Etruscan principes love and require this type of iconography.31
Painting also enriches the decorative apparatus of the tombs. The most ancient
examples come from Veii and Caere, and later on from Tarquinia. First of all, paint-
28 Colonna and von Hase 1984.

29 Prayon 1974.
30 Esposito 1999.
31 van Kampen 2010.

ing a tomb makes it as luxurious as the deceased’s house, and early on, its walls are
embellished with vegetable elements, animals and narrative scenes.32
The Roaring Lions Tomb in Veii is one of the most ancient examples of funerary
painting, dating to the beginning of the seventh century (Fig. 45.8).33 Its decoration
includes outlines of ducks and lions, which reveals a stylistic influence from Greek
late Geometric vase painting, mainly the Euboean tradition. The “Tomb of the Ducks,”
again in Veii, clearly shows the use of outline and silhouette techniques as well.
The painting technique, based on red, yellow, white and black colors, is likely
linked to techniques of other productions, like pottery, and especially the “white-
on-red vases.”34 Caere documentation includes the “Tomb of the Painted Lions” and
the “Tomb of the Painted Animals.” The paintings in the “Tomb of the Ship” prob-
ably refer to the episode of Ulysses and the Sirens. In the second half of the seventh
century, among the different stylistic traditions from Near East and Greece, the Corin-
thian component emerges. The “Tomb of the Panthers” in Tarquinia and, more sig-
nificantly, the “Campana Tomb” of Veio, which features an important narrative scene,
are remarkable examples of the Late Orientalizing period.
3 Wine and the symposium-banquet

Wine is a very precious drink that is appropriate to kings such as Assurbanipal or
Alkynoos, who offers wine to Odysseus, a guest, and to the god Zeus.35 The historian
Titus Livius recalls that the consul L. Papirius Cursor offers a little cup of wine to the
gods in order to win their favor and a victory at war.36 In the Etruscan world, there
is no clear distinction between banquet and symposium but the principes know the
Greek and Eastern models, which associate the ceremonial consumption of wine with
singing, music, and the use of perfumes and sets of specific bronze or fine ceramic
vases.37
We probably have to distinguish between different types of wine and their way
of consumption, starting from a very ancient indigenous wine, called temetum.38 The
Montescudaio urn (Fig. 45.9), from the mid seventh century, shows an Etruscan lord
32 Steingräber 1985; Naso 1996; Naso 2010.

33 Boitani, Neri and Biagi 2010.
34 Micozzi 1994.
35 Hom. Od. VII 167 ss.
36 Liv. 10.42.7.
37 Dentzer 1982; Boardman 1990; Rathje 1994; Coarelli 1995; Matthäus 1999–2000; Delpino 2000;
Menichetti 2002; Wecowski 2002; Zaccaria Ruggiu 2003; Hammer 2004; Schmitt-Pantel and
Lissarrague 2004; Ciacci, Rendini and Zifferero 2007; Baughan 2009.
38 Delpino 1997; Torelli 2011, 115–27.

45 Art, 730–580 BCE 843
Fig. 45.9: Urn from Montescudaio

(photo SAT)
banqueting in the “Homeric way,” surrounded by a servant holding the Eastern cer-
emonial flabellum in his hands, near a table (trapeza) bountifully set with food and
a large container for wine. Early on, the Near Eastern style of banqueting with the
kline begins to circulate, as shown by the famous Krater of Eurytios from Caere. Fur-
thermore, the use of particular objects like the “plate-tripods” as mortars39 or graters
recalls the custom of adding spices, aromas or cheese to wine, a practice well known
in the Near East. Cup and practice have been described by Homer about the famous
“Nestor’s Cup.”40
Oriental or Phoenician and Greek wine spread the Tyrrhenian area with their set
of vessels41 .During the second half of the seventh century, kraters and cups belong-
ing to the Greek tradition mostly show how the symposium had become a fundamen-
tal element of the aristocratic lifestyle.
The famous Chigi Olpe, which arrived in Etruria in the mid seventh century,
shows a repertoire of images that are very close to the aristocrats’ hearts (war,
hunting, marriage—which is referred to through Paris’ judgment). The Aristonothos
39 Botto 2000.
40 Ridgway 1997.
41 Bartoloni 2006.

Krater, probably made in Caere by a Greek artisan, shows the blinding of Polyphemus
by Ulysses and his companions on one side (Fig. 35.3), and a battleship scene on the
other (Fig. 22.3a). The decoration with images represents a further form of habrosyne
within the context of ceremonial wine drinking.
It is important to remember that the Etruscan way of wine consumption produces
the creation or adaptation of some vase shapes, testifying the fundamental impor-
tance of this practice for the aristocratic lifestyle. The bucchero kyathos from the San
Paolo Tomb 1 of Caere is a magnificent sample also displaying an inscription recalling
the gift system typical of the aristocratic rank.
4 The principes and the heroes of Greek mythology

The language of power created by the aristocrats from Etruria (and Latium) becomes
even more well structured during the Orientalizing period with the insertion of
another element that makes that language stronger and more powerful to legitimize
the rank of the principes.
The heroes of the Greek mythology—Theseus, Achilles, Odysseus, the Argonauts
and Herakles—become the examples for the enterprises and the lifestyle of the Etrus-
can àristoi.42 The pyxis from the Pania tomb of Chiusi43 (Fig. 45.10), which dates to
the end of the seventh century, is made of ivory, and bears a rich repertoire of carved
images. Among others, the departure of a warrior on his chariot surrounded by his per-
sonal army is depicted, and on the higher frieze, two scenes that represent important
endeavors during Odysseus’ wanderings are shown: the escape from Polyphemus’
cave, and the encounter with the sea-monster Scylla. It is evident that the endeavor
of the princeps-warrior is compared to Odysseus’ endeavors. This new language of
power will be later translated into monumental forms in the friezes of the Etruscan
and Latium regiae during the sixth century,44 as we see for example in the clay reliefs
from Acquarossa with Herakles’ labors (the Nemean Lion and the Cretan Bull) that
accompany the princeps’ departure. This kind of language has a further message,
according to which the princeps-warrior acquires a status similar to the Greek heroes’
status through apotheosis.45 Here we can also track down a pattern similar to the new
performance of the triumph that the Etruscan kings introduce to Rome: that is to say
the celebration of the military victory in the framework of the institutional structures
of the city, in which the triumphant king is assimilated to Jupiter.
42 Massa-Pairault 1992; Menichetti 1994; Torelli 1997; d’Agostino and Cerchiai 1999; Micozzi 2006;
Thomson De Grummond 2006; Domenici 2009; Bellelli 2010.
43 Minetti 1998.
44 Edlund Berry, Greco and Kenfield 2006; Winter 2009.
45 Torelli 1997.

45 Art, 730–580 BCE 845
Fig. 45.10: Pyxis of Pania (photo SAT)
5 Conclusions
In conclusion, the Orientalizing Etruscan culture, which has a deep influence on the
other cultures with which it comes in contact—such as Latial and the Italic popula-
tions—can be exemplified through an extraordinary monument: the chariot found
in Monteleone near Spoleto (Central Italy), now at the Metropolitan Museum of Art
in New York. Central Italy has therefore given us a rich documentation about this
fundamental sign of power.46 On the bronze parapet of the chariot—its chronology
is fixed at the second half of the sixth century—an incredible series of images shows
the heroic qualities of Achilles in three main scenes (Fig. 45.11): the chase, his duel
with Memnon, and his apotheosis with winged horses. On the front, Achilles receives
the precious arms made by the god Ephestus from his mother, Thetis, according to
Homer’s narration. The Etruscan principes climb on the chariot to be like Achilles or
the king represented on the gilded bowl from the Bernardini Tomb.
46 Emiliozzi 1997.

Fig. 45.11: Drawing of the Monteleone chariot (after Emiliozzi 1997, 186–87)
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Marina Micozzi
46 Handicraft, 730–580 BCE
Abstract: In the last decades of the eighth and the beginning of the seventh centuries, the Tyrrhenian
elite reached an unprecedented level of wealth and manifested a sudden need for status symbols that
could represent their new lifestyle. The solution was to model themselves after Near Eastern dynas-
ties and their courts. The Near East supplied models of life as well as sumptuary goods, raw materials
and, most notably, skilled craftsmen specialized in many sectors, who started workshops in Etruria
and gave rise to local production. At the same time, contacts with Greece started an extraordinary
phenomenon of acculturation expressed through material culture, as well as through the acquisition
of writing and Hellenic mental forms.
This work aims to illustrate how, in the different categories of handicraft—jewelry and other pre-
cious materials, metalwork and pottery—these Near Eastern and Greek elements combined with local
traditions to create an original Etruscan Orientalizing style.
It was an uneven process, however. In the earliest phase of the Orientalizing period (around
725–680 BCE), it mainly involved Veii and Tarquinia; in the seventh century, the most important poles
of production were Cerveteri and Vetulonia, from which technical and stylistic innovations widely
radiated in both Etruscan territory as in foreign areas.
Keywords: Etruscan Orientalizing period, Etruscan handicraft, Etruscan jewelry, Etruscan pottery,
Etruscan metalware
Introduction
In the last decades of the eighth and the beginning of the seventh centuries, the Tyr-
rhenian elite reached an unprecedented level of wealth and manifested a sudden
need for status symbols that could represent—physically and symbolically—their new
lifestyle. It is clear they modeled themselves after Near Eastern dynasties and their
courts. The Near East supplied sumptuary goods, raw materials, and, most notably,
specialized craftsmen who were masters of advanced techniques with a mature tradi-
tion rooted in a multicultural setting. Their encounter with the Villanovan tradition
and that of Greeks (also found in Etruria) initiated the formation of an Etruscan Ori-
entalizing style. Due to the lack of recognizable public institutions and the particu-
lar importance consequently gained by the private sphere of these new aristoi in the
political and religious lives of their communities, this new Orientalizing style can be
evaluated above all in the handicrafts.1
I wish to thank Dr. Yvonne A. Mazurek for the English translation.

1 Recent surveys on Etruscan Orientalizing handicrafts in Martelli 2008a; Naso 2012; Sannibale 2013.
852 Marina Micozzi
1 Jewelry
Already in the second half of the eighth century, this ongoing change can be detected
by the increase in jewelry made of precious metals. Villanovan objects typically made
of bronze (e.g. fibulas, hair spirals and pendants) were now made of gold and silver.
These were further decorated with granulation and filigree, two refined goldsmithing
techniques previously unknown in Etruria, which were certainly introduced by Near
Eastern artisans.
Alongside these techniques, there was a diffusion of exuberant, Near Eastern
decoration, including rosettes, palmettes, guilloches, Egyptian protomes and animal
and anthropomorphic figures. These were also made with traditional repoussé tech-
niques on Near Eastern (like anchor-shaped pendants or bullae with embossed star
motifs), as well as on local forms.
Until the mid seventh century, the typology of jewelry grew and defined itself. The
display of a family’s wealth peaked in female burials with a variety of fibulas (leech,
boat and lozenge-shaped fibulas), necklaces, pendants, armlets, earrings, hair spirals
and small metal plaques for decorating clothing. Many varieties of serpentine fibula
are typical of men’s costumes, like the comb and bolt fibulas, used to pin mantels
onto their shoulders or on their belts.2 Sumptuous chest ornaments have been found
for both sexes on the highest rungs of the social hierarchy. Certain men’s grave goods
highlight the deceased’s role as a warrior, as in the case of the embossed gold lamina
put on the bronze kardiophylax from the Tomb of the Warrior at Tarquinia.3
The pomp reached its peak during the first half of the seventh century, with
princely grave goods that include refined jewels of extraordinary value, which can
often be traced to the same workshops. These jewels satisfied a large demand, and—
thanks to the widespread practice of aristocratic, ceremonial gift-exchange—reached
southern and northern Etruria, Latium and Campania, with more sporadic occur-
rences in Etruria Padana and on the Adriatic coast.
The workshops can be located in various Etruscan centers. In the Early Oriental-
izing period there were particularly active workshops in Tarquinia, where goldsmiths
from northern Syria might have worked, and in Veii, where they also worked amber
from the Adriatic coast (Verucchio).4 Amber was used for fibulas, necklaces, gold pen-
dants and the inlayed gold pectorals from tomb 101 at Castel di Decima, tomb Galeassi
at Praeneste, and the Montetosto tumulus at Caere.5
2 For a wide range of Orientalizing Etruscan jewels, see Cristofani and Martelli 1983, 35–51, 253–86
and Martelli 2008a, with further bibliography.
3 Babbi and Peltz 2013, 233–9, 262–4, nos. 1, 10, pl. 1–2, 12–14.
4 Waarsenburg 1995, 423; Cygielman and Pagnini 2006, 145–7; Arancio 2012.
5 Cristofani and Martelli 1983, 42, 277, no. 85.

46 Handicraft, 730–580 BCE 853
Fig. 46.1: Gold breastplate and disk-fibula from Caere, Regolini-Galassi Tomb. Vatican,
Museo Gregoriano Etrusco (from Cristofani and Martelli 1983)
From the second quarter of the seventh century, Caere’s workshops clearly demon-
strated their leadership, here too initiated by Near Eastern goldsmiths and character-
ized by technical perfection, virtuosic use of granulation and filigree, and the ability
to assimilate and build upon ideas from different provenances. These characteristics
were largely expanded upon in the extraordinary gold female grave goods from the
woman’s burial in the Regolini-Galassi Tomb. These include the famous embossed
breastplate with its semi-elliptical form of Egyptian influence and the giant disk fibula
of the late Villanovan tradition (Fig. 46.1), attributed to a workshop that masterfully
combined Near Eastern, Greek, and local forms, techniques and motifs. Among the
products of the same workshop, there are valuable examples of jewelry (disk, ser-
pentine, comb and bolt fibulas), from Caere, Praeneste, Vulci (where the spectacular
fibula from Ponte Sodo with a dueling scene, a local variation of a style found in Cypro-
Phoenician bowls, was found: Fig. 48.5), Vetulonia and Marsiliana, with zoomorphic
figures made by joining two symmetrical halves through micro welding and finished
with granulation. These find their highest achievement in the sumptuous pectorals
from the Barberini and Bernardini Tombs at Praeneste (Fig. 46.2).6
6 Cristofani and Martelli 1983, 38–9, 262–65; von Hase 1995; 2000; Martelli 2008a, 126; Sannibale
2008.

854 Marina Micozzi
Fig. 46.2: Gold plaque (breastplate?) from Praeneste, Barberini Tomb. Rome, Villa Giulia.
(photo SAR-Laz)
Fig. 46.3: Gold fibula from the Tomba del Littore of Vetulonia. Florence, Nat. Archaeol. Mus.
(photo SAT)
Goldsmith workshops were also active in Vetulonia starting around the same
time, perhaps due to the transfer of artisans from Caere who were attracted by favora-
ble economic circumstances or in the wake of eminent personalities, like the deceased
of the Tomba del Duce, who was cremated in a silver house-shaped urn attributed to
a Caeretan workshop.7 The goldsmiths of Vetulonia developed a particular local style
with embossed motifs (palmettes and female protomes), and a sophisticated use of
the “pulviscolo” technique, a variant of granulation, which is better suited for making
figures (Fig. 46.3). Their products rapidly acquired a wide diffusion in northern areas,
from Marsiliana, Roselle, Volterra to Chiusi and the Chiana Valley and up through
Bologna and Verucchio.8
7 Celuzza and Cianferoni 2010, 127, 3.1, with further bibliography.

8 Martelli 2000, 469.

2 Ivory, bone and glass

Among the luxury goods crafted by Near Eastern artisans, there are also precious
objects of ivory and bone: pyxides, chests, fans, combs, statuettes, as well as plectra
and dice games (e.g. in the Regolini-Galassi Tomb). The ample production of South-
ern Etruria, in all likelihood based in Cerveteri, has been divided by modern schol-
ars into two main groups, which can be linked to the same stylistic trends of Syrian
and Phoenician inspiration also seen in imported goods.9 The homogeneous group
of refined ivories from Marsiliana, dating to the mid seventh century,10 can be attrib-
uted to craftsmen with Near Eastern training from southern Etruria who were likely
active in Vetulonia. Northern Etrurian workshops are attributed for the remarkable
collection of ivories, from the second half of the seventh century, found in tombs of
the middle Arno and Ombrone Valleys, and from Murlo.11 These ivories are evidently
related to the Late Orientalizing production of Chiusi12 through style and decoration,
characterized by clear references to the Greek myths (Fig. 46.4).
A few ivory plectra (see chapter 30 Li Castro) from rich Etruscan tombs remind us
of the existence of related instruments and many other wood objects, surely an impor-
tant category of handicrafts that has been almost completely lost.13
Correlate to that of the ivories is the manufacture of oinochoai and cups made
from ostrich eggs, with painted, incised and excised decorations. Eggs from Carthage
that were cut to form hemispherical cups in the first half of the seventh century were
followed, in the second part of the century, by a series of richly decorated, Etruscan
incised eggs (found in Vulci, the Florentine countryside and Picene territories), which
were mounted in oinochoai with different precious materials, including ivory and
gold (see chapter 50 Micozzi). The workshops can likely be located in Vulci—which
also rendered clay versions of these same forms.14
The prestige of Caeretan workshops is also visible through the widespread diffu-
sion (southern and northern Etruria, Latium, Campania and Picenum) of a series of
precious glass objects ( perfume bottles or balsamaria, tools for spinning and orna-
ments) made between the mid seventh century and the early decades of the sixth
in the “friable nucleus” technique, which was certainly introduced by Near Eastern
immigrant glassworkers.15
9 Martelli 1991; 2000.

10 Celuzza and Cianferoni 2010, 55–7, 160–70, with further bibliography.
11 Nicosia and Bettini 2000; Martelli 2000; Maggiani 2006.
12 Minetti 2004, 452–3, with further bibliography.
13 Martelli 2008a, 123; Babbi and Peltz 2013, 383–7, nos. 104–7, pl. 80–3.
14 Martelli 2008a, 124; Martelli 2013.
15 Martelli 1994 and 2008a, 125–6. In general on the Etruscan production of glass beads for fibulas
see most recently Koch 2010.

856 Marina Micozzi
Fig. 46.4: Fragmentary ivory relief plaques from Comeana, Tumulus of

Montefortini. Florence, Nat. Archaeol. Mus. (photo SAT)
3 Metal vases
Much of the work of Orientalizing craftsmen was dedicated to creating vessels and
utensils for eating, drinking, pouring, mixing and filtering liquids, roasting or boiling
meat, used in banquet ceremonies, the finest expression of the aristocratic way of life.
The goldsmiths also produced gold (such as the Bernardini kotyle, with sphinxes
on handles, and the ribbed bowl from Praeneste now in the Victoria and Albert

Museum16) and silver vessels and utensils. Along with prestigious, Near Eastern met-
alware and proto-Corinthian pottery, these compose the exclusive sets used for the
consumption of wine according to Greek and Oriental ceremonies present in princely
grave goods in Etruria, Latium and Campania.17
Even in this case, the oldest evidence is clustered in Tarquinia (Warrior’s and
Poggio Cretoncini Tombs) and among key grave goods from Latium and Campania
(Castel di Decima, Cumae and Capua).18 In the second quarter of the seventh century,
these were followed by the output of Caeretan workshops guided by Near Eastern
craftsmen. On the one hand, the Caeretan workshops referred back to tradition (for
example with the spiral amphora and the cups with vertical handles from Regolini-
Galassi). On the other hand, they oriented themselves towards foreign shapes—
skyphoi and kotylai that imitate proto-Corinthian models (exported to Praeneste,
Pontecagnano, Marsiliana, Vetulonia Populonia and Fabriano), as well as paterae
and hemispherical bowls with incised scale patterns just below the rim (found in
Caere, Praeneste, Marsiliana, Veulonia, Narce and Capua), with Near Eastern proto-
types in glass, bronze and ceramic (Fig. 46.5).19
The decoration of some kotylai, inspired by the Phoenician bowls, but with con-
tributions from the Greek and local repertoire, shows the eclectic vibrancy of Caere’s
workshops. These are also attributed with the gilded silver situla belonging to Plika
sna of Chiusi, a unique piece that illustrates the acme of this aggregation.20
Two bronze kotylai—one from the Bernardini Tomb and the other from tumulus
F at Satricum—and the Barberini tripod with Sirens can also be attributed to Near
Eastern craftsmen active at Caere, who combined Greek forms with the Near Eastern
“double wall” technique.21 The widespread imitation of other Near Eastern valuables,
like Assyrian-made ribbed bowls, suggests their manufacture in various Etruscan
towns, including Caere and Vetulonia.22 For the duration of the Orientalizing period,
Vetulonia’s bronze workers acted as the northern counterpart of Caere’s metalwork-
ers; their production is easily recognized and includes a wide range of products, as
censers, urns with handles decorated with lotus flowers and zoomorphic protomes,
and tripods, some of which imitate and elaborate upon trans-Alpine types, bearing
witness to the city’s extensive external contacts.23
16 Cristofani and Martelli 1983, 38, 257, no. 19; Principi 2000, 218–9, no. 250.
17 Martelli 2008a, 124.
18 Cataldi 2005; Babbi and Peltz 2013, 246–7, no. 4, pl. 5.
19 Martelli 2008a, 124; On the scale pattern bowls, recently, Babbi and Peltz 2013, 247–52, no. 6,
pl. 7–8.
20 Cristofani and Martelli 1983, 43, 285, no. 116.
21 Botto 1993.
22 Sciacca 2005.
23 See chapter 50 Micozzi.

858 Marina Micozzi
Fig. 46.5: Set of silver-gilt vessels from the Regolini-Galassi Tomb of Caere (Rome,
Vatican, Museo Gregoriano Etrusco) (elaboration from Cristofani and Martelli 1983)
4 Bronze objects
Bronze workers were also responsible for the production of a series of objects associ-
ated with the exaltation of the male warrior (weapons, war chariots or vehicles for
transport—also destined for the ekphorà of the deceased—and equestrian harnesses).
In the Orientalizing period, these instruments of war largely became symbols of rank.
The weapons were often inadequate for warfare and suggest the existence of a vein of
production dedicated to funerary or votive functions, as seen in shields from female
burials and in the deposits of Verucchio and on the Civita of Tarquinia. In the latter,
the shield was found near a musical lituus and an ax, other objects used in aristocratic
spheres as insignia of power, as can be seen in Casale Marittimo or in the Tomba del
Littore of Vetulonia.24
Furthermore, the embossed barrel-shaped sheet bronze thrones certainly indi-
cated status, rather than serve as functional objects. They were often associated with
similarly decorated stools and fans and, at times, with scepters and litui to form sets
directly related to the royalty,25 as documented in the iconography of the statues from
Ceri and Veii Picazzano and the akroteria from Murlo (see chapter 45 Menichetti).
They may have often been made of perishable materials, as seen in the wooden finds
at Verucchio (see chapter 76 von Eles). Wheeled bronze trays also belong to the same
24 Torelli 2006; see also Rathje 2006 and Bonghi Jovino 2007.
25 Strøm 2000; see also Jurgeit 2000.

Fig. 46.6: Silver scepter, flabellum and bronze sheets from Veii, Monte Michele, Tomb 5
(Rome, Museo Etrusco di Villa Giulia) (photo SAR-Laz)
category; identified by M. Torelli with the praefericula, they were objects with specific
cult functions, prerogatives for certain, eminent figures.26
It is likely that bronze workshops were present in the major Etruscan, Latin and
Faliscan cities, but it is difficult to distinguish their production because the stamped
technique continued to prevail despite the introduction of Near Eastern decorations,
and lends a conservative and uniform veneer to the sheet bronze objects (urns, flasks,
tripods and more). For example, Ingrid Strøm suggests that Veii was the main source
of barrel-shaped thrones, for which Fritzi Jurgeit proposes Tarquinia, a city that, like
Vulci, certainly hosted remarkable bronze workshops. A large number of the bronze
shields that Armgart Geiger attributes to Marsiliana likely came from these two cent-
ers.27
Local workshops can be traced back to valuable collections of bronzes from the
princely tomb of Monte Michele at Veii (house-shaped urn, wheeled tray, scepter and
flabellum (Fig. 46.6)28 and that of the Carro di bronzo (Bronze Chariot) at Vulci.29 The
latter striking set of grave goods illustrates a particular application of the technique—
the sphyrelaton, in which parts of the human body are assembled from different mate-
rials to reconstruct an image of the body of the cremated deceased, as seen in some
26 Torelli 1997; Naso 2006.

27 Geiger 1994, 115–6; Babbi and Peltz 2013, 259–62, no. 9, pl. 10–11.
28 Boitani 2001.
29 Sgubini Moretti 2000.

860 Marina Micozzi
other high ranking burials of the first half of the seventh century concentrated in the
area around Vulci.30 Above all, we can recall the bust from the Circle of the Fibula at
Marsiliana, considered the work of bronze workers who were experts in weaponry.31
Such cases show the difficulty of distinguishing between the “fine arts” and handi-
crafts in this chronological period.
There was a sharp change in Caeretan metal workers, which introduced figured
decoration in free-hand drawing. The Regolini-Galassi Tomb is once again the fore-
most example, with the cauldrons on conical stands, the bronze sheets reused in the
restoration of the throne, which originally belonged to a chariot,32 the wheeled tray
decorated with realistic and fantastic animals immersed in phytomorphic patterns of
Near Eastern inspiration (and those from the same workshop found at Praeneste and
Vetulonia).33 These express a tendency found in all Caeretan handcraft: to metabo-
lize influences from various sources into the dominant Syro-Phoenician vein until
the creation of an original Caeretan, Orientalizing style. With regard to metalwork-
ing, this can be seen, at the very end of the seventh century, in the decorative exu-
berance of chariot panels of Tomb XI at Eretum/Colle del Forno.34 Through exported
goods and the migration of craftsmen, Caeretan Late Orientalizing bronzeworking
influenced other centers, including Orvieto and Chiusi, which produced many sheet
bronzes, especially amphorae and thrones for canopic urns, also demonstrating a
certain Vetulonian influence.35
5 Painted pottery
The leadership of Caere is particularly evident in pottery painting, where the Caeretan
workshops show a capacity for renewal unknown to other centers, certainly due to
privileged relationships with new Greek people active in the Tyrrhenian Sea. Even
amidst the battery of Orientalization, vase painting maintained a strict adherence to
Greek models limiting its Near Eastern influence to the adoption of a few new types
of vases—especially plates—demonstrating a preference for a way of eating different
from that of the Greeks.36
30 Morandi 2013.
31 Celuzza and Cianferoni 2010, 161–2, n.4.8.
32 Emiliozzi 2013, 782, 794. A new restoration, led by A. Emiliozzi, is now available in the Museo
Gregoriano Etrusco.
33 Naso 2006.
34 Martelli 2005.
35 Minetti 2004, 443–50, with further bibliography.
36 Coldstream 2006.

From the third quarter of the eighth century, Vulci’s ceramic workshops had a
period of remarkable creativity, due to the presence of several immigrant leaders
who gave rise to the so-called Etruscan geometric production by introducing deco-
rative patterns, iconographies and vascular forms from different regions of Greece.
By the end of the century, the most important workshops—conventionally called “of
the First Craters,” “of the Ticinian Craters,” “of the Vulcian Biconical” and “of the
Argive Painter”—equipped the Etruscan repertoire with a wide range of new forms,
especially for use in symposia (craters, amphorae, oinochoai and various types of
drinking vessels), decorated in the Greek Late Geometric style and including the first
narrative scenes with figures.37 From the early seventh century, Vulcian pottery fossil-
ized into a routine production that repeated Euboean and proto-Corinthian geometric
patterns organized in a metopal scheme, the “Metopengattung,” which dominated in
Vulci and Tarquinia until the middle of the century.38
For most of the seventh century, Tarquinian workshops settled into a nearly slavish
imitation of proto-Corinthian and Cumaean vases. Only through the first decades of
the century did they begin to open up to innovative stimuli, with the Painter of Boc-
choris and the Palm Painter, who distinguished themselves by introducing Attic and
Near Eastern influences.39 Very similar to the production of a Tarquinian workshop is
the oinochoe by the Painter “dei Cavalli Allungati,”40 which features one of the first
mythical scenes—perhaps the geranos of Theseus and Ariadne—now in the British
Museum.
Since the early seventh century, the Caeretan Subgeometric pottery (plates,
amphorae, stamnoid ollas, stemmed bowls, oinochoai)41, was enlivened by friezes
of fish and marsh birds (the “Heron Class,” also diffused in non-Etruscan areas)42,
and flanked, in the very same workshops, by a new figurative style inspired by Proto-
Orientalizing, Attic and Cycladic experience. The Greek models were known thanks
to Attic vase painters, like the recently identified Goat Painter,43 or the Narce Paint-
er.44 In the first decades of the seventh century, they settled in Caere and Veii, where
they adapted Protoattic figures and stylistic elements to local forms (biconical vases,
amphorae, plates). Thanks to the Tomb of the Roaring Lions at Veii, we can compare
ollas painted by the Narce Painter (Fig. 46.7) to wall paintings, which demonstrate—
37 Martelli 1987, 9–15, 242–254; Martelli 2008b.

38 Martelli 1987, 12, 245–6, nos. 7.1–3, 8, 16; most recently: Tanci and Tortoioli 2002, 177–8; Neri 2010,
261–4.
39 Martelli 1987, 12–13, 251–2, nos. 20–24; Tanci and Tortoioli 2002, 180–191; Martelli 2008b; Neri 2010,
252–6.
40 For whom M. Martelli (2008a, 137 and 2008b, 19) has recently proposed a Nesiotic provenance.
41 See most recently Neri 2010.
42 See most recently Neri 2010.
43 Martelli 2008b, 17–18.
44 Most recently, Drago et al. 2014 with further bibliography.

862 Marina Micozzi
Fig. 46.7: Olla from the Tomb of the Roaring Lions at Veii, attribuited to
the Narce Painter (photo SAR-Laz)
even better than the contemporary Tomb of the Ducks—the close relationship between
vase painting and wall painting ,45 a relationship which remained strong over the
course of the Orientalizing period.
The presence of the aforementioned Greek vase painters at Veii, Caere and Narce,
areas which are characterized by strong cultural interrelations, provides an appro-
priate base for the renewal of Caeretan vase painting in the first half of the seventh
century. With the Cranes Painter and the Heptachord Painter, Caere inaugurated mon-
umental, figured registers of Cycladic and Protoattic inspiration in both subject and
style.46 The Crane Painter was the leader of a prolific workshop, who worked both
clay and impasto with white-on-red decoration and prefered large vessels, especially
amphorae that reached the Veian-Faliscan area too.47 He experimented with human
and theriomorphic figures that were inspired by the Hellenic world (a centaur and a
warrior on two “white-on-red” pithoi now in the Castellani collection), but did not
depict complete narratives, unlike the Heptacord Painter, who must have drawn from
45 Boitani 2010.
46 Martelli 1987, 17–20; 2001; 2008b.
47 Martelli 2001; Neri 2010, 244–52; Boitani, Neri, and Biagi 2010 (who propose the Painter also
worked in Veii).

Greek epics (Fig. 16.3). Although it is not certain, the Heptacord Painter may have
depicted the meeting between Helen and Menelaus on a biconical vase from Monte
Abatone, or Orpheus and the Argonauts on the eponymous vase.48
Caeretan pottery lets us trace the key stages through which Etruscan aristoc-
racy selected from the corpus of Greek myths. At the beginning of this extraordinary
process of acculturation, the Etruscans preferred episodes related to epic sea voyages
like those of Odysseus, Jason and Theseus.49 A skillful patron who could understand
Greek myths and reinterpret them for self-celebration appropriated the famous crater
with the blinding of Polyphemus and naval battle, signed by Aristonothos,50 an Attic
vase painter of Cycladic origin who was active around 650 at Caere. His signature is
the first known example in Etruria, where pottery painters rarely signed their works,
even in later centuries.51 The Aristonothos crater begin a local series of vases that
depicts epic mythological episodes, both in clay, like the amphora by the Amster-
dam Painter with Medea and the dragon of Colchis,52 as well as in “white-on-red”
impasto, like that of the Sirena-Assurattasche Painter with Odysseus’ encounter
with the Sirens.53 In the second half of the seventh century, Caeretan series of red
impasto vases with white decorations developed a particular sensitivity to mythologi-
cal scenes, largely attributable to the Workshop of the Calabresi Urn, which special-
ized in large containers (pithoi, amphorae, pyxides and house-shaped urns).54 The
Painter of the Birth of Menerva (active between 640 and 620), a leading figure in this
workshop and, perhaps, painter of wall paintings (Tombs of the Painted Lions and
of the Painted Animals),55 depicted the birth of Athena on pyxis D 150 (now in the
Louvre), and the blinding of Polyphemus on a Fleischmann collection pithos (Fig.
14.4).56 These scenes were translated into the composite language largely derived from
a Phoenician matrix, which would become the distinctive feature of the Caeretan Ori-
entalizing style.
The Tragliatella oinochoe exemplifies the self-representation of an aristocratic
Etruscan gens through a Greek mythological model.57 It also acts as a primary docu-
ment of the formation of local sagas that were executed in a polychrome Corinthian
technique, which dominated the Caere-Veii territory at the close of the seventh
48 See, with further bibliography, Martelli 2001; Bellelli 2010, nos. 3–5; Simon 2013, 495–7.
49 There is much literature on this matter. Most recently see Bellelli 2010 and Bonaudo 2010, with
further bibliography; Simon 2013.
50 Martelli 1987, 263–5, no. 40; other references in Bonaudo 2010.
51 Colonna 2014, 48–9.
52 Martelli 1987, 20, 265, n. 41.
53 Martelli 1987.
54 Micozzi 1994, 183–200.
55 Martelli 1987, 20, 246–7, n. 43; Micozzi 1994, 188–90; 2005.
56 Micozzi 2005; Bonaudo 2010.
57 Martelli 1987, 217–8, n. 49. Bellelli 2010 with further bibliography.

864 Marina Micozzi
century, with the Caeretan Group of Monte Abatone and the Castellani Cycle of Veii.58
The unbroken succession of cultural ties and migrating artisans from different parts
of the Greek world is the most decisive factor for the undisputed supremacy of the
Hellenic model as a reference for the rising class: over the last decades of the century,
the Swallow Painter and the Bearded Sphinx Painter—respectively bearers of Eastern-
Greek and Late proto-Corinthian /Transitional models—are the origin of Etruscan-
Corinthian production at Vulci, mainly in black-figure technique and poor in narra-
tive scenes (with exceptions like the oinochoe with the Ilioupersis by the Bearded
Sphinx Painter).59
6 Other pottery
Social change in the late Orientalizing period and the consequent increase of those
who had access to the wealth sparked a decisive transformation in Etruscan artisan
activity, which restructured itself through tighter organization and greater specializa-
tion of labor. In Vulci’s Etrusco-Corinthian workshops, this dynamic translated into
an actual subdivision of the market. On a broad scale, we also see the rise of wine and
oil containers (as well as the smaller ones for perfumes) to meet the surplus produced
by intensive agriculture and destined for trade. One effect of this industrial-style pro-
duction is the standardization of vase types, particularly evident in the bucchero, the
characteristic ceramic whose black color comes from reduction firing, the most profit-
able “invention” of the Etruscan Orientalizing period.60
Bucchero appeared in Caere at the end of the first quarter of the seventh century,
without an experimental phase, with high quality products (the so-called thin buc-
chero, often with silver finishes). There is a clear inclination towards pottery for ban-
quets, with forms derived from three main sources—proto-Corinthian ceramics, pre-
cious Near Eastern imports (such as the Cypro-Phoenician oinochoai and rare ribbed
phialai with human protomes), and local brown impasto, within which the bucchero
tradition belongs. Hence, bucchero vases catered to both endemic and foreign modes
of drinking wine (provided that Mario Torelli’s association between spiral amphorae
and temetum holds true)61.
Once considered surrogate to precious vessels made of ivory and metal, bucchero
was conceived as a prestigious product, a flexible material from which objects of great
symbolic value could be made, like the mourning statuettes from the Regolini-Galassi
58 Szilagyi 1992, 35–93.

59 Martelli 1987, 25, 273–80, nn. 58–62; Szilagyi 1992, 95–127.
60 See most recently, with further bibliography: Naso 2004; Officina 2011.
61 Torelli 2000, 147.

Fig. 46.8: Bucchero olpe showing in relief Medea, the Argonauts and Daedalus. From Caere,
Tumulus of San Paolo, Tomb 2 (Rome, Museo Etrusco di Villa Giulia) (photo SAR-Laz)
Tomb and from the Tumulus of Poggio Gallinaro62 and the calamus from the Regolini-
Galassi Tumulus. The production of refined works in relief intended for elite patrons
began in the mid seventh century.63 It includes exceptional pieces like the olpe from
Tomb 2 of the Tumulus of San Paolo at Caere, with rare versions of the sagas of Daeda-
lus and Medea64 (Fig. 46.8) and a group of kyathoi decorated in relief, incision, exci-
sion and punching from Caere, Vetulonia, S. Teresa di Gavorrano, Casale Marittimo,
Monteriggioni, Chiusi, Murlo. Some of these bear inscriptions that qualify them as
precious ceremonial gifts from the Paithina gens—partly, perhaps, made in northern
Etruria.65
As mentioned above, food storage vessels were made of impasto and usually
reddish in color. Red impasto ware is present throughout Etruria with local varia-
tions in morphology and decoration,66 but always with a series of large dimension
vases (pithoi, ollas, and braziers), sometimes with painted decoration (in addition
to the Caeretan, there was also a “white on red” production in the Faliscan-Capenas
area and in inner Etruria)67 and, by the end of the seventh century, with stamped pat-
terns.68
62 Colonna and Di Paolo Colonna 1997, 160.

63 Sciacca and Di Blasi 2003, 172–3.
64 Rizzo and Martelli 1988–1989; further bibliography in Bellelli 2010, 37, no. 14.
65 On this matter most recently Cappuccini 2007.
66 Ten Kortenaar 2011.
67 Medori 2010.
68 Serra Ridgway and Pieraccini 2010.

866 Marina Micozzi
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Alessandro Naso
47 Society, 730–580 BCE
Abstract: The Etruscan elite furnished their tombs with extraordinary sumptuousness, following a
specifically “barbarian” custom—adopted throughout their civilization—that began in the second
half of the eighth century BCE and reached its peak in the seventh. The three major arts—stone sculp-
ture, architecture, and painting—developed in this period mostly for use in burials. The sets of grave
goods include luxury items of Near Eastern and other provenances, which testify to the considerable
capacity for assimilating outside influences and the role the Etruscans played in the Mediterranean
and Europe. Archaeological evidence shows that the Etruscans received objects and ideas relating to
a new way of life from the Near East, while their mythology came from Greece; they received cultural
models from both. This original mixture determined a new type of culture, which allowed both men
and women to play important roles in society.
Keywords: Orientalizing, elites, lower classes, competition, family name
Introduction
The Etruscan elite furnished their tombs with extraordinary sumptuousness, following
a specifically “barbarian” custom—adopted throughout their civilization—that began
in the second half of the eighth century BCE and reached its peak in the seventh.1 The
three major arts—stone sculpture, architecture, and wall painting—originated and
developed in this period mostly for use in burials.2 The sets of grave goods are our
main source for Etruscan society. They include luxury items of Near Eastern and other
provenances, which testify to the considerable capacity for assimilating outside influ-
ences and the role the Etruscans played in the Mediterranean and Europe.3 Archaeo-
logical evidence shows that the Etruscans received objects and ideas relating to a new
way of life from the Near East, while mythology came from Greece; and from both
they received cultural models. This original mixture determined a new type of culture,
which allowed both men and women to play important roles in society.
1 Elites, lower classes and geographic mobility

In the Orientalizing period, the Etruscan elite adopted certain markers to demonstrate
their power and high status. Three elements stand out, permitting the conclusion that
1 See chapter 18 Naso.

2 See chapters 45 Menichetti, 46 Micozzi.
3 See chapters 34 Botto, 50 Micozzi.
870 Alessandro Naso
beginning in the second half of the eighth century, Etruscan elites become more con-
scious of their social status.
First, because excavations of domestic remains in Etruscan cities are still in pro-
gress, and general knowledge about the urban residences is limited,4 the burials
are the commonest source of information. Huge tumuli with diameters reaching
50–60 m contained the chamber tombs. Often, these monumental graves accommo-
date only one chamber tomb for a man or woman, and subsequently they received
further chamber tombs that probably belonged to the same family, as shown by the
four tombs of Great Tumulus 2 in the Banditaccia cemetery at Caere (Fig. 47.1). From
the beginning of the seventh century to the first half of the sixth, a new chamber
tomb was built every thirty years or so in that barrow. In the burial landscape, tumuli
became a visible marker of the power of the family that owned it and probably of its
ancestors, following a model developed by Near Eastern societies.5 For the interiors of
the chamber tombs, see Section 5 below.
Second, the tombs were full of luxury goods, which had already been displayed
in the residences and in the funeral rites that came to Etruria from various overseas
regions and Central Europe.6 Several items are closely connected to the diffusion of
new modes and costumes, which cannot always be clearly interpreted or understood.
Middle and Late Geometric Greek drinking cups testify, for instance, to the display
of wine.7 Greek vases for use in symposia are likely to have been ceremonial gifts
offered by Greeks to the local elite, not only to establish relations with them, but also
to have access to the natural resources they controlled. This is supported by the geo-
graphical distribution of such items, which is not limited to the major centers such
as Veii, Caere, and Tarquinia, but also includes peripheral districts, such as the huge
Euboean krater found out its original context at Pescia Romana (Grosseto province,
Tuscany), which dates to the last quarter of the eighth century, and the vases found
in the coastal settlement of La Castellina del Marangone (Rome province, Latium),
corresponding to the mine district of the Tolfa Hills in the hinterland.8 There is little
information about the functional use of imported goods in Etruria. The huge Near
Eastern bronze cauldrons with lion protomes and/or griffin protomes, for instance,
may have been status symbols, pots for boilings meat, wine containers, and so on.9
Lastly, an important marker of the awareness reached by the Etruscan elite was
the adoption of the family, or gentilic, name, which developed in Etruria as early
4 Prayon 2001.
5 Naso 2016.
6 See chapter 50 Micozzi.
7 See the contributions of d’Agostino 2014 (Pontecagnano) and Naso 2014 (southern Etruria).
8 Canciani 1987, 242–43, no. 3, for Pescia Romana; Mercuri 2004, 135, for the sherds from La Castellina,
which have recently been attributed to an Etruscan geometric krater (Gran-Aymerich 2011, 412
nos. 1–6, fig. 156.7).
9 For the Samian imitations see Gehrig 2004.

47 Society, 730–580 BCE 871
Fig. 47.1: Plan of Great Tumulus 2 in the Banditaccia cemetery at Caere (drawing A. Naso)
as the eighth century, as is known because it is widely documented in the earliest

inscriptions, which date to the first half of the seventh century.10 It is necessary to
stress this custom, because family names in this period are exclusive to Italy; in Greek
and other Mediterranean societies, the custom was to use a name consisting of the
personal name and the father’s name.11 Instead, for both men and women, the socie-
ties of pre-Roman Italy adopted a distinctive two-component name formed from the
10 Colonna 1977; see chapter 21 Benelli.

11 See several contributions in Étienne 2010.

872 Alessandro Naso
Fig. 47.2a: Line-drawing of the Etruscan inscription

TLE 155 = ET, Ta 6.1 aχapri rutile hipukrates
personal name and the family name. The family name made it possible not only to
declare one’s proud loyalty to a group, which in the eighth and seventh centuries was
of course identified with the elite, but also to state the right to the inheritance of that
name and the family properties, namely land and livestock. Inheritance, however,
cannot have been the main reason for the introduction of the family name, because it
was used by societies that did not adopt the family name system. Not by chance did
the Latin law tradition attributed to the age of Romulus (753–716 according to tradi-
tional chronology) state that the owner (Lat. herus) can bequeath to his descendants
(Lat. heredes) a plot of land (Lat. heredium) of 2 jugera (ca. 0.5 ha).12 An important role
was played by self- awareness of one’s own high role and social status, as the rich and
exotic grave goods show. In this way, the earliest Etruscan inscriptions, which show
a high number of such binomial names, further stress the importance of the family
name, whose origins in pre-Roman Italy are still an open question for research.
If the coexistence of monumental graves, luxury goods, and family names helps
to define the formation of elite Etruscans, other practices show that the aristocratic
groups may have been interconnected in many ways to form a social network. These
include gift exchanges, as attested in Etruria by inscriptions, and marriages, as in
Homeric Greece. Several years ago, the late Mauro Cristofani pointed out that in Ori-
12 Colonna 1977, 185–88.

47 Society, 730–580 BCE 873
Fig. 47.2b: Line-drawing of the Etruscan inscription

TLE 761 = ET, OA 2.2 mi larθaia telicles leχtumuza
entalizing Etruscan society, the practice of gift exchange between members of the
elite, based on sumptuary goods, spread widely between 675–575. Precious gifts such
as metal or clay vases with particular purposes show the donor’s name—usually a
man, but occasionally a woman—and sometimes the recipient’s name.13 In contrast,
marriage as a useful link between two aristocratic groups is a practice documented in
pre-Roman Italy as early as the Early Iron Age, although specific research on Oriental-
izing Etruria is yet to be done.14
These practices seem quite typical of a dynamic society, which was open to stran-
gers too. The literary tradition quotes the case of Damaratos, a Greek who came to
Tarquinia from Corinth around the middle of the seventh century (Dion. Hal. Ant.
Rom. 3.46.3). Etruscan inscriptions dating to the seventh century quote male names
such as Rutile Hipukrates and Larth Telicles (Fig. 47.2a–b). These genuine Etruscan
binomial names are half Etruscan (Rutile from the Latin Rutilus; Larth) and half Greek
(Hippokrates; Telikles). The bearers can therefore be identified either as Greeks (Hip-
pokrates, Telikles) who came to Etruria and assumed Etruscan names—“Hippokrates
the Red” in the first case—or as sons of mixed marriages between Etruscans and

14 Bartoloni 1988. Further literature in d’Agostino 2011, 38.

874 Alessandro Naso
Greeks.15 In each case, such persons may be taken as examples of geographic mobil-
ity between members of the upper classes of Greece and Etruria.
Alongside so many elite markers, however, the archeological record of this
period, which is based almost completely on funerary evidence, includes only a few
traces of other classes; they are almost invisible. In the Banditaccia cemetery at Caere,
the huge tumuli were surrounded by similar but smaller burial monuments, which,
being contemporary, may correspond to lower social groups. These may be related to
the elite group in a way similar to that of the patrician and clientes in archaic Rome.16
The late Richard Linington, who was for several years field director of the excava-
tions in the Laghetto area of the Banditaccia cemetery, saw evidence of the existence
of lower classes in the tomb architecture of that area. Linington divided the explored
graves into seven periods, dating from the eighth to the third centuries. According to
him, the dimensions of the graves in this area are quite similar to those in other cem-
eteries of Caere in the late eighth and early seventh centuries (his periods 1 and 2),
a little bit smaller in the second half of the seventh century (period 3), and clearly
smaller in the early sixth (period 4). If it is really the case that no more rich graves
were built in this sector because the upper classes used other areas of the same cem-
etery, then from the sixth century onward it would have been available to the lower
classes.17 To verify this intriguing suggestion, which is based exclusively on the study
of tomb architecture, it would be necessary to correlate the architecture with the com-
position of the remains of the grave groups found in the same tombs, which is not pos-
sible at the moment given the fact that only a few tomb groups have been published.18
Social division within an Etruscan cemetery dating to the seventh century has been
documented at Pontecagnano in southern Campania. Several clusters of tombs that
reflect different statuses and different origins of the deceased—mostly Etruscans but
also probably Daunians and Picenes—are placed in different sectors of the cemetery.
Tomb groups of the Pontecagnano cemetery reveal a capacity for emulation and com-
petition among the different elite groups; they include rich female graves.19
15 Respectively TLE 155 = ET, Ta 6.1 (from Tarquinii) and TLE 761 (provenance unknown, presumably
Caere, now in the collection of New York University: Bonfante 2005). The mentioned interpretations
are respectively by Mario Torelli, quoted in Torelli 2000, 146 and Jonathan Hall (2007, 257). For further
examples of geographic mobility between Etruria and Latium vetus see chapter 79 Naso.
16 See the various aspects listed in Richard 1990, with previous bibliography.
17 Linington 1980, 19–25 (periods 2–4). According to Giovanni Colonna, Linington’s period 2
corresponds to the Early Orientalizing (730–670), period 3 to the Middle Orientalizing (670–640/630),
and period 4 to the Late Orientalizing (640/630–580): Colonna and von Hase 1984, 19–25.
18 Bagnasco Gianni 2002, 621–23 lists the published tomb groups from B(anditaccia) L(aghetto).
19 On the cemetery of Pontecagnano, still unpublished as whole (more than 10,000 graves!), see Cuozzo
2007, 230–39, with previous bibliography. For the Daunian and Picenian finds: Cinquantaquattro and
Cuozzo 2002; 2003.

47 Society, 730–580 BCE 875
Toward the end of the eighth century, a woman was buried in Pontecagnano
Grave 2465 not only with her gold jewels, but also with the markers of the rank she
held in life: a bronze chariot; a bronze symposium service; a metal banquet service
including andirons, spits, knife and axe for the meat—both for eating and for use in
the sacrifice—and some large clay food containers (See chapter 74 Cinquantaquat-
tro and Pellegrino). Similar very rich female depositions in other Etruscan cemeter-
ies show that such burials are not unique. To stress the spatial distribution across
Etruria, one may mention at least Banditella 2 at Marsiliana and Regolini Galassi at
Caere, both of which date to some time later than Pontecagnano 2465, in the first
and second quarters respectively of the seventh century.20 The three female burials
have several elements in common. Each includes either belongings of the deceased
dominae in life (precious jewelry and metallic ornaments for clothing), or part of the
burial ritual (metal bed frames, but only at Caere and Marsiliana), or the markers of
their very high social rank (the metal chariot, the symposium service for wine, the
banquet service for meat, and the large food storage vessels). Each set, which might
have actually seen use, had a different function, showing the varied capacities of the
woman in life as dispenser of wine and food, and as responsible for food prepara-
tion for the entire household and its inhabitants. The spindle and distaff, implements
used in wool working, are bronze (Pontecagnano), glass paste (Marsiliana), or silver
(Caere), and had exceptional value. Only the very rich female burials contain them,
showing the importance of wool working in Etruscan society (see Section 2 below for
further details).21 Rich female depositions are quite common in Etruscan cemeteries
and reflect the important role played by the women in Etruscan society.
2 The female role

The great importance of women in Etruscan society, which is best known particu-
larly from the fifth century onward,22 is already visible in the seventh century in both
the epigraphic and the iconographic records, which allow us to speak of princesses
and queens rather than wives of princes and of kings. The epigraphic record includes
female names, which are often connected to specific functions. The inscriptions on
the clay wine vessels—called thina by the Etruscans as a transliteration of the Greek
term dinos—consistently declare that the containers are female property. Six vessels
20 On the Regolini-Galassi chamber tomb, see Colonna and Di Paolo 1997, 154–63; about the
Banditella 2 at Marsiliana: Cianferoni 1988.
21 Pontecagnano: Cuozzo 2003, 112 no. 25; Marsiliana: Cianferoni 1988, 103–4 nos. 19–20 (might
no. 18 be a spatula for wool working?); Caere: Pareti 1947, 217 no. 150. On the importance of wool
working in Etruscan society see Torelli 1997; on woolen items, see chapter 29 Gleba.
22 See chapters 53 Amann and 59 Amann.

876 Alessandro Naso
Fig. 47.3a: Line-drawing of the Etruscan inscription ET, Cr 2.34 [mi] pupaias karkanas θina
(with seven inscriptions) from Caere and Veii dating to the seventh century confirm
the suggestion for this period (Fig. 47.3a–b). A further inscription on a chalice dating
to the seventh century that was used as a drinking cup bears a female name and
confirms that in that century wine was served to men by women, further showing
the importance of the female role in the banquet. In the sixth century, four inscrip-
tions document a new meaning for the term thina, to designate wine containers of
other shapes, such as amphorae, and no longer referring to women.23 According to
Giovanni Colonna, the Etruscan inscription on a large clay vessel (Gk. pyxis) from
Caere with white-on-red decoration, dating to 630–620, permits the assumption that
a woman was the owner of the potter’s workshop.24
The shift from the Orientalizing to the Archaic period, which probably corre-
sponded to a new role for women, is confirmed by iconographic representations. Con-
cerning the iconographic record, one must begin in the Orientalizing period with the
wooden throne found in Grave 89 of the Lippi cemetery in Verucchio, dating back
to the very beginning of the seventh century.25 The scenes engraved on the semicir-
cular back, originally painted, show women at work, engaged in the processing of
wool—washing, spinning, and weaving—and women participating together with men
in some activities that are hard to define. According to Patrizia von Eles, these women
are probably engaged as priestesses in ceremonies or cults.26
Tomb 5 of the Arsenale Militare cemetery in Bologna, called Tomba del Tintin-
nabulo and dated to around 600, has yielded the cinerary urn of a thirty to forty year
old woman and her jewelry, gold items including a fibula and two hair bands, an
amber chain, and an exceptional bronze sheet rattle or tintinnabulum, a bell-shaped
23 Colonna 2002, 354–55 with previous literature (eleven inscriptions at all, including one from
Pontecagnano with the term thina not entirely preserved); Bruni 2007 (a further inscription on a trade
amphora dating to the sixth century). See also Menichetti 2002 and chapter 13 Kistler.
24 Colonna 1993. The inscription is not surely authentic.
25 See chapters 29 Gleba and 48 Trocchi.
26 von Eles 2002, 235–72, esp. 268–72.

47 Society, 730–580 BCE 877
Fig. 47.3b: Line-drawing of the Etruscan inscription ET, Cr 2.36 mi velelias θina mlaχ mlakas
pendant depicting several stages of processing wool, from spinning to weaving.27 This
exceptional find stresses once again the importance of wool working for high-ranking
Etruscan women.
The friezes on the terra-cotta plaques decorating the second phase of the palace
near Murlo, dated to the end of the Orientalizing period (around the year 580), still
reflect the Orientalizing world and its symbols. Four scenes are depicted in all, each
including a woman with the attributes of her rank, such as thrones and footstools,
parasol, fans, and servants. I agree with Annette Rathje that “these women must be
seen as more than just mothers, wives, daughters and sisters to the ruling men.”28 A
new phase probably began at the start of the sixth century (see chapter 53 Amann).
3 Kings and queens

Imported objects and their associated uses—if any—reflect the existence of a strati-
fied society in Etruria, which for us is hard to articulate because the only information
we have comes from burial remains. It must be remembered that the available docu-
ments have mostly been found in tomb groups, so it is not known exactly what role
was played by burial customs and to what extent the luxury objects correspond to the
social status of the deceased.29 Specific criteria for categorizing tomb groups accord-
ing to their richness are still lacking in modern-day research. Chariots and items such
as helmets, shields, fans, and parasols (represented on the plaques from Murlo) are
well documented by Etruscan finds as elite status symbols that derived, in the case of
most of the objects, from Near Eastern, and in the case of helmet, Central European
27 For a detailed description of the tintinnabulum see chapter 29 Gleba.

28 Rathje 2007, 177.
29 See chapter 19 Naso.

878 Alessandro Naso
Fig. 47.4: Etruscan Bronze Thron from the Barberini tomb at

Praeneste (Rome, Museum of Villa Giulia). Photo SAR-Laz
models.30 The richest graves we have allow us to look for the deceased’s particular
roles and functions, such as kings and priests (see section 4 below). According to the
late literary tradition, in this period kings of Etruria had gold crowns, ivory thrones,
scepters, and purple garments, all of which are symbols of power.31 Can it therefore
be suggested that the few tomb groups containing thrones and scepters belonged to
kings or queens?32 The archaeological evidence forces prudence; the general situ-
30 For the chariots see chapter 24 Emiliozzi; for helmets: Iaia 2005, 45–112; for shields, Bartoloni and
De Santis 1995; for fans, Guldlager Bilde 1994; for parasols, Miller 1992 and Simpson 2014.
31 Delpino 2000 for the literacy tradition and the archaeological finds. See chapter 9 Tagliamonte.
32 One scepter has been identified, which was found in the tomb Monte Michele 5 at Veii (Boitani
2001, 115–16 no. 15). The few bronze thrones from Etruria are listed by Naso (2006a, 362–63). The term
“queen” has recently been suggested for the women interred in some rich burials, such as No. 2 of
the cemetery of Banditella at Marsiliana d’Albegna (Martelli 2008, 134 footnote 5) and the Regolini-
Galassi Tomb at Caere (Colonna and Di Paolo 1997, 167; Martelli 2008, 135 footnote 16).

47 Society, 730–580 BCE 879
ation in Etruria might have been highly variable, depending on each location. The
cemeteries of a very rich but relatively small center like Verucchio yielded eleven
wooden thrones dating from 750 to 650, belonging to at least seven male and three
female graves, with one not attributed. In the tombs of Chiusi, model bronze thrones
belong to the funeral rites of rich male individuals dating to seventh and sixth centu-
ries.33 Thus the question posed above has no sure answer, although in few cases the
attribution to kingly burials seems very probable. Only in the Barberini tomb group
from Praeneste—a very rich inhumation outside Etruria in Latium Vetus dating to the
second quarter of the seventh century (see chapter 79 Naso)—has a bronze throne
(Fig. 47.4) been combined with a probable scepter of gold and silver and a bronze cult
wagon, suggesting the possibility that the deceased was an individual of royal status
with priestly knowledge.34
4 Priests
Some specific finds from rich male and female burials allow us to assume for the
deceased a probable role as priest. Bronze cult chariots, already documented in
central Italic graves from the ninth century onward, attest to religious rites involv-
ing the use of water (Fig. 47.5). The deposition of such items in tomb groups—mostly
belonging to males, but in two cases, Bisentium and Veii, to females—may be inter-
preted as relics of such ceremonies or else as objects referring to the possible role of
the deceased as priest.35 The scenes engraved on the wooden throne from Verucchio
and their interpretation by von Eles have already been mentioned, in which women
are acting as priestesses. Perhaps not by chance, the Etruscan Tanaquil, wife of Tar-
quinius Priscus, the fifth king of Rome (616–579 according to the historical tradition),
was believed to have deep knowledge of haruspicy, the Etruscan science of the inter-
pretation of the livers of sheep.36
It is difficult to identify a female role in votive offerings of this time, which are
rarely documented in the archaeological record of the Orientalizing period for two
main reasons. First, votive offerings were less popular than they would become
beginning in the early sixth century, and second, because only a few votive deposits—
consisting of highly perishable materials—have survived and they are quite difficult
to find and to explore.37 In an Iron Age votive deposit explored at Banditella, near
33 For Verucchio, see chapter 76 von Eles; for Chiusi: Minetti 2004, 446–49.
34 Curtis 1925, 46 no. 82 (throne), 21 no. 18 pl. 4 nos. 3–4 (probable scepter), and 36–37 no. 72 (cult
wagon). The tomb contained several ivory items (22 no. 20, 36 no. 71) as well.
35 Naso 2006b, with previous literature.
36 On haruspicy see chapter 20 Rollinger.
37 See chapter 48 Trocchi.

880 Alessandro Naso
Fig. 47.5: Bronze cult-chariot from the Regolini-Galassi tomb at Caere (after Woytowitsch 1978,
no. 123, pl. 121)
Vulci, a bronze group has been found, which as one of the latest votive offerings of
that context, has been dated to the first half of the seventh century. It now includes
two horses, but was originally more elaborate and probably decorated the lid of an
amphora.38
5 The family
The shift from the protohistoric “clan” to the historical “family” is attested in Ori-
entalizing Etruria through the adoption of the family name, but the composition of
a “typical” Etruscan family in the Orientalizing period, if there was such a thing,
remains obscure. Bone analysis and other anthropological research, which are defini-
tive, are actually too limited to be used on a large scale.39 Inscriptions that show impor-
tant phenomena like family names are scarce. The main sources for Etruscan society
in general—the tombs—can be used in this context only in part. The development
38 Naso 2012.
39 See for instance Volterra 1997.

47 Society, 730–580 BCE 881
of the tomb architecture of the necropolis of Caere, as traced by Friedhelm Prayon,

shows that the chamber tombs in the Orientalizing period do not have a unique form,
but can include many chambers, and any one chamber can accommodate a varying
number of individuals. By contrast, in the Archaic period, the chamber with two beds
cut into the tuff was pervasive.40 But caution is necessary: although chambers and
beds can reflect the number of family members, we are not sure about the exact use of
these structures. It is useful to compare our hypothesis with the few tombs that have
been found intact. For instance, in the chamber with the ship painting in the Tomba
della Nave at Caere, which contains only one bed dug into the tuff, Raniero Mengarelli
found the remains of two individuals, a man on the bed and a woman in a wooden
sarcophagus on the floor.41
It is difficult to compare this tendency with the information from dwellings,
because it is undefined and often refers to later periods (see chapter 49 Nijboer).
Taking into account the current state of the research, it can be interesting to ask some
questions the answers to which will probably come in future years. For instance:
how many people lived and worked in the palace of Murlo? According to a recent
calculation, at least 350 individuals, including elite citizens, soldiers, craftsmen, and
“service” personnel like butchers, dairymen, poultry farmers and gardeners, lived
and worked in the Tartessian palace of Cancho Roano (Badajoz, Spain), which was
smaller (24 × 24 m) than the Etruscan palace of Murlo (60 × 60 m).42 The estimate
is based on the theoretical consumption of the elite and not on the capacity of the
palace. Although it seems somewhat high, because it counts different roles for some
functions that were carried out by one person elsewhere,43 the suggestion is useful
for estimating the order of magnitude of the number of individuals involved. Future
research will answer such questions.
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Tiziano Trocchi
48 Ritual and cults, 730–580 BCE
Abstract: In Etruria, the passage from the late Iron Age to the Orientalizing period played an impor-
tant role in the development of Etruscan funeral rituals and practices based on the aristocratic ideol-
ogy. Greek and Oriental influences were decisive contributors to the process, as luxurious elements
from the Near East became graves goods. Aristocratic funeral rituals were turned into sumptuous cer-
emonies, divided into several different stages—the display of the deceased, the ceremonial procession
and the funeral lamentations—intended to increase the ceremony’s pathos and its symbolic value.
Among the established funerary customs, the banquet practice gained more importance; it rep-
resents the aristocratic ties in the perpetual dimension of burial. Between the end of the eighth and
the beginning of the seventh century BCE, we notice that the Etruscan banquet steadily developed
Hellenic features because of the increasing relationships with the Greek colonies.
Spatial partition in graves also became more important during this phase. The importance of the
grave structure related with the symbolic value of the ritual practice is more evident with the develop-
ment of the great burial mounds in the necropolises of the Etruscan Tyrrhenian area.
In the Orientalizing period, funeral rituals in Etruria were intended to better celebrate the aris-
tocracy, and was focused on the glorification of the deceased, who, entering the afterlife, took on the
role of mythic ancestor and became an object worthy of worship for his/her descendants.
Examples of religious practices can be found in Etruria—even for this period—in several differ-
ent sources. The consolidation of strongly elite worshiping models is evidenced by symbolic items
among the grave goods and some figurative representations, which prove a close connection between
the aristocratic worshiping models and the formation of an Etruscan-Italic mythical repertoire. At the
same time, however, the emergence of the first urban religious structures, such as those of the sanc-
tuary of Portonaccio in Veii, where female deities—previously limited to the aristocracy—gained an
oracular value that turned deities into great civic goddesses during this period.
Keywords: Orientalizing period; funeral rituals; Etruscan aristocracy; religious practices in Etruria;
worshiping models
1 Funeral Ritual
In Etruria, the passage from the late Iron Age to the Orientalizing period played an
important role in the development of Etruscan funeral rituals and practices based on
the aristocratic ideology. Greek and Near-Eastern influences were decisive contribu-
tors to the process, as luxurious elements from the Near East became graves goods,
not only increasing the richness of grave goods, but also their symbolic value. It was
not merely about acquiring goods and iconographies, but, new manners and demea-
nors. This new lifestyle was based on Eastern royalty and fitted to local customs; aris-
tocratic funeral rituals were turned into sumptuous ceremonies, divided into several
different stages marked by specific ritual practices.
886 Tiziano Trocchi
Among the numerous examples to describe this passage we can observe the
burial grave 871 in Casale del Fosso at Veii.1 Its structure is reminiscent of the previ-
ous models, but the lateral loculus has been enlarged into an actual main chamber,
where the most prestigious goods and the main pottery items were placed. The grave
goods include local traditional banquet vases, but also a big bronze cauldron, some
bronze ribbed bowls and a hemispherical silver bowl, all of which have clear Oriental
origins. The presence of wagon items and a complete set of armor—including a bronze
rolled helmet with a tall bronze crest—is very important and might indicate a sign of
priestly authority,2 which can also be connected with a bronze ritual chariot. There
was also a footrest along with the throne, a bronze flabellum, and a wooden, ivory
and gold-leaf scepter.
The cremation grave known as Lippi 89/1972 at Verucchio3 represents a similar
example (Fig. 48.1). In the grave were placed a cinerary urn “dressed” in a mantle and
decorated with bronze, gold and amber fibulae and a double panoplia that included
a high-crested helmet, a conical helmet, two swords, two shields, two spears and a
javelin. The grave goods include four knives, one of which was found with an ivory
and amber hilt (used for sacrificial rites),4 three winged axes and several elements of
a horse harness and three wagons. On the other side of the grave, opposite the ciner-
ary urn, we can find a rich ceramic and bronze banquet set composed of a neck vase
and a biconical vase, three situlae, seven cistae and a cup. There was also a wooden
carved throne symbolically set above the big coffin, a footrest, a flabellum handle and
a wooden box.
Both cases underline a complex and composite way of expression. The typical
elements of the Etruscan tradition5 are enriched by the attributes of familial heredi-
tary power, directly adopted from the oriental features.6
Spatial partition in graves became more important during this phase, and gave
a precise ritual meaning to each side of the burial. The importance of the relation-
ship between the grave structure and the symbolic value of the ritual practice is more
evident with the development of the great burial mounds in the necropolises of the
Etruscan Tyrrhenian area. These massive structures, inspired by the eastern dynas-
1 The burial is dated to the late eighth century and was placed with female grave 872 in the middle of
a larger group of burials related to a single unit (Drago Troccoli 2005).
2 Bartoloni 2003. The interpretation of these crested helmets—which were also present in Verucchio—
as priestly marks, is not unanimous. It can be an emphasis on the symbolic item value in order to
glorify the warrior role during social ceremonies (von Eles 2002).
3 Dated back between the end of the eighth and the beginning of the seventh century. We observe the
closeness to the rich contemporary female grave Lippi 47 (von Eles 2002).
4 Torelli 1997a.
5 The same elements of priestly dignity, military role and political status are to be noticed in both
examples as in the late previous stage in leading burials.
6 A scepter, footrest and throne.

48 Ritual and cults, 730–580 BCE 887
Fig. 48.1: Plan of the grave Lippi 89/1972 at Verucchio (after Torelli 1997c, fig. 42)
tic models,7 stand as “great gravestones” of tombs of princes and their descendants,
that tangibly indicate their land ownership and their aristocratic power.8 These struc-
tures had a further role in funeral rituals, suggesting one of the most important cer-
emonial phases: the display of the deceased, which was one of the ritual key-steps9
which emphasized social status and the family prestige.10 This practice, in which the
deceased and his/her grave goods were publicly displayed, is understood to have
taken place on the burial mound itself.11 Something similar can also be observed
in the contemporary burials in the Etruscan area in the Po valley, where the use of
small mounds has been suggested.12 In the most prestigious graves in Bologna are
7 Naso 2016.
8 Zifferero 1991
9 See d’Agostino 1996.
10 The display of the deceased corresponds to that of the prothesis in Greece (d’Agostino 1996;
Bartoloni 2003).
11 Bartoloni 2000. That might have been the function of the terraced altars in some mounds in
northern Etruria and of the steps with top shelf in Caere; the steps in some access dromos in upper-
class graves in Tarquinia might have had a similar role.
12 Kruta Poppi 2010.

888 Tiziano Trocchi
the famous protofelsinee stones13, whose monumental origins were likely carved by
the northern Syrian masters, directly commissioned by the local aristocracy.14 The
funeral ritual communication system at this stage is extended to the grave outside,
showing the effort to make the symbolic message more lasting and forceful.
Other types of material remains of Orientalizing graves are evidence of another
key-step of the aristocratic funeral richness—the transportation of the body to the
burial site.15 In many prestigious graves there is documentation of several kinds of
wagons, which have several symbolic meanings. The war chariot is an indication of
upper-class men, the cart is usually related to women, while the transport carriage
can be found in male and female graves as a symbol of aristocratic status and is con-
nected with land and livestock ownership.16
These means of transportation were supposed to be used for the displacement
of the deceased during the ceremonial procession.17 The most emblematic case is
represented by the Regolini Galassi grave in Caere.18 The buried princess was taken
to her grave on a four-wheeled chariot, which was found in the access dromos with
several items of the mortuary equipment. In some cremation burials in Verucchio,
some chariot parts were burned, which suggests that the chariot itself functioned as
a deathbed on which the body had been carried and cremated.19 We can fully under-
stand the symbolic meaning of this ritual practice if we consider that the Near-Eastern
symbolism of the corpse transportation vehicle was intended to turn the dead into a
hero during his/her passage to the afterlife.20
There’s no doubt that funerals used to take place with a solemn procession, where
a further exposure of the grave goods and funeral lamentations—to increase the cer-
emony pathos—had a large and important role. These practices are supported by the
Latin literary tradition21 for ancient Latium, and by archaeological traces in Etruscan
graves. In the Regolini Galassi antechamber, there are forty weeping bucchero statu-
ettes placed around an empty deathbed. Several bronze and ceramic vases are remi-
niscent of celebratory banquets, and some shields leaning against the walls—which
were typically used to decorate halls in aristocratic houses22—may also be traces of
the display of the corpse. In Pitigliano, there are weeping female and mourning knight
13 Marchesi 2011.
15 Corresponding in Greece to the ekphorà (d’Agostino 1996; Bartoloni 2003).
16 Colonna 1997.
17 Bartoloni 2000.
18 Colonna and Di Paolo 1997.
19 von Eles 2002.
20 For the wagon as ritual element linked with the Near East custom: Torelli 2006.
21 Polyb. VI, 53. About the affinity of funeral processions with triumphal parades see Torelli 2008
22 During this phase, the shields were carved in relief or painted in many upper-class graves
especially in Caere (Naso 1996).

Fig. 48.2: Ceramic lebes from Pitigliano with female and mourning
knight figurines on the edge. Second half of the seventh cent. BCE.
Florence, Archaeological Museum (photo SAT)
figurines on the edge of a ceramic lebes (Fig. 48.2).23 These are evidence of a different
aristocratic ceremonial element. It has been suggested that the male figurines refer
to a funerary knight joust, perhaps the Etruscan and Italic Lusus Troiae,24 which is
documented by Latin literary sources,25 and which consisted of performing a carousel
(decursio)—riding a horse around the corpse—to glorify the deceased and confirm his
entrance into the afterlife by the members of his own social class.26
Among the established funerary customs, the banquet practice gained more
importance, as it represents the aristocratic ties to the perpetual dimension of burial.
Between the end of the eighth century BCE and beginning of the seventh, the Etrus-
can banquet steadily developed Hellenic features,27 because of the growing relation-
ships with the Greek colonies.28 The ceramic cinerary lid in Montescudaio, dated to
the mid seventh century, shows the deceased being served by a maidservant, sitting
on a three foot long table next to a large crater for wine and water blending (Fig. 45.9).
This is the representation of a purely Homeric Greek banquet; it pays particular atten-
tion to the convivial features, which became more and more essential in the Etruscan
23 Torelli 1997b.
24 Torelli 1997b.
25 Among these, the most famous ritual description is that in Virgil’s Aeneid, in which funeral
ceremonies are celebrated in honor of Aeneas’s father, Anchises (Verg. Aen. 5, 577–593).
26 The same iconography can be found in one of the represented scenes on the oinochoe from
Tragliatella, dated to 620 (Menichetti 1994) (Fig. 16.4).
27 Delpino 2000.
28 The first Euboean wine cups, or their local copies, were already an example in the second half of
eighth century, especially in south Etruria, above all in Veii necropolises (Nizzo and ten Kortenaar
2010 with previous literature), and in Etruscan Campania (d’Agostino 2006).

890 Tiziano Trocchi
banquet practice. The bronze or silver gilt bowls and the impressive ceramic pottery
sets imported from Greece or copied in loco are common in the graves of the member
of the elites, and attest to these new banquet practices. The full adherence to the
Homeric conviviality is also represented by the collective consumption of meat, a pre-
cious meal directly connected to the sacrificial ceremonies of animals and therefore,
with the religious domain,29 as shown by large sacrificial knives, large bronze caul-
drons, tripod, spits and andirons in upper-class male and female graves.
Spinning tools and weapons still had a distinctive gender role in funeral cere-
monies. Personal items give useful indications about the deceased and his/her indi-
viduality. These elements were clearly expressed in areas in which cremation was
the prevailing practice, such as the Po valley, where the anthropomorphism of the
cinerary urn was very important,30 and northern Etruria—especially in Chiusi—where
local elites distinguished themselves by anthropomorphic funeral urns, the canopi,31
which were frequently placed on thrones with personal ornaments and marks of
power (Fig. 48.3).
In women’s graves, spindles, spindle whorls and distaffs were found made
of precious materials such as bronze, amber, bone and glass paste. These are of a
highly symbolic value, and refer to an aristocratic woman’s role in her household and
economic management.32 A tintinnabulum that dates to the last part of the seventh
century was found in the “Tomba degli Ori” in the Arsenale Militare necropolis at
Bologna (Fig. 29.6).33 It is one of the famous bronze pendants34 typical of upper-class
women’s graves during the Orientalizing period in Bologna. It features embossed por-
trayals of the different stages of wool manufacturing by richly dressed upper-class
women. Clearly evident is the intent to emphasize the aristocratic status of this sym-
bolic traditional activity in the economy of the family, in which the woman’s role was
very important.
As for men’s grave goods, the indications of power become more complex during
the Orientalizing period. Items such as wooden, bronze and silver scepters in grave 5
in the Monte Michele necropolis at Veii35 show the acquisition of self-representative
oriental models by the Etruscan aristocracy. However, the local symbolism of axes
as indications of aristocratic power remained, and led to some extraordinary arti-
facts, such as the axes with wooden handles covered in bronze in graves H1 and H2
29 Torelli 1997a.
30 Bentini et al. 2015.
31 Rastrelli 2000.
32 Poli and Trocchi 2007.
33 Dore 2007, with previous literature.
34 Mainly seen as worshiping tools (Bartoloni 2000). It has recently been suggested that for their axe
shape they could represent a female version of status and power indications. This could show that
these prerogatives were transmitted even in the female line (Torelli 2006).
35 Boitani 2001, with previous literature.

Fig. 48.3: Anthropomorphic urn or canopo on throne from the grave 253
of Tolle (Chianciano), End seventh cent BCE. Chianciano, City Museum
(photo SAT)
at Casale Marittimo.36 The bundle of iron rods (fasces) surrounding a double edged
axe (bipennis) in the “Tomba del Littore” at Vetulonia show how axe symbolism was
still extremely important in male characterization, and suggests its evolution into an
indication of magisterial power during the following century.37
The described picture clearly shows how funeral rituals in Etruria were structured
to better celebrate the aristocracy and its top-members. This process is focused on the
glorification glorify of the deceased, who would gain the role of mythic ancestor and
36 Esposito 2000.
37 Torelli 2006.

892 Tiziano Trocchi
became an object of worship for his/her descendants upon entering the afterlife. This
conceptual component was so strong that it became totally explicit in several cases,
and it is not a coincidence that the first examples of stone and terracotta statues in
Etruria are linked to these ideas. One of the most famous examples is the relief carv-
ings of the deceased’s ancestors seated on thrones38 in the hall of the “Tomba delle
Statue” (Tomb of the Statues) at Ceri (690–670 BCE: Fig. 35.4).39 A similar guaran-
tee and legitimacy function had the small five terracotta statues in the “Tomba delle
Cinque Sedie” (Tomb of the Five Chairs) at Caere, dated to 630 BCE.40 These statues
were placed in a reserved room, where the deceased’s ancestors are depicted during a
banquet in which two empty seats suggest the participation of the two grave owners.41
The glorification of a family’s status and its social and political function is pre-
dominant, beginning in the last decades of the eighth century, both in funeral rituals
and in the idea of the afterlife. Paintings both in the Tomba delle Anatre (Tomb of the
Ducks)42 and the Tomba dei Leoni Ruggenti (Tomb of the Roaring Lions) (Fig. 45.8)43—
the oldest examples of funeral painting in Etruria, both of which are in Veii and date
to the beginning of the seventh century—portray monstrous aquatic birds and under-
world creatures. These figurines are still closely connected to the figurative repre-
sentations of the previous century. In contrast, we can observe a complex figurative
representation on the walls of the late Orientalizing “Tomba Campana,” which shows
many iconographic oriental features.44 The glorification of the deceased, drawn on a
horse in his triumphal entrance to the underworld with his marks of power, was by
then completely expressed.
2 Forms of worship
Examples of religious practices can be found, even for this period, in several differ-
ent sources. In addition to plastic and figurative representations we can notice more
sacred structures in the urban areas in Etruria.
38 Iconography and sculptor are oriental, but the statues, holding the lituus and the scepter, have
both symbolic local marks of power and social status oriental features.
41 We have to observe ancestor figures even in the mourning statues in the dromos of the Pietrera
mound at Vetulonia, and in the male figurines placed at the top of grave C mound at Casale Marittimo.
The carved thrones in the “Tomba degli Scudi e delle Sedie” (Tomb of the Shields and of the Chairs) at
Caere, dated to the beginning of the sixth century, have the same meaning (Bartoloni 2000).
42 Rizzo 1989; Naso 1995.
43 Boitani 2010.
44 Menichetti 1994.

Fig. 48.4: Back of the wooden throne from Lippi 89/1972 at Verucchio. Verucchio, City Museum
(Courtesy P. von Eles)
As for the plastic representations, we must first mention the small naked ivory
goddess coming from “Circolo della Fibula” in Marsiliana d’Albegna45. The statuette
represents a fertility goddess,46 and its iconography is very similar to that of Ishtar, a
goddess worshiped in Syrian and Phoenician areas. The statuette has been attributed
to an immigrant manufacturer and is evidence of the oriental influence in the worship
of female deities already attested in the previous stage.47
The wooden throne in the Lippi 89/1972 grave at Verucchio features two overlap-
ping scenes carved on its back (Fig. 48.4). The upper part is a scene of wool manufac-
turing, in the middle are two weaving scenes in which women sitting on a thrones are
working on tall vertical looms, and the lower scene depicts two converging wedding
processions with a woman and a man in a chariot. In the middle of the two proces-
sions is a big platform decorated with waterfowl, which most likely indicate the after-
life. The platform is guarded by a rank of warriors armed with spears, crested helmets
and oblong shields. Above them, two women exchange gifts, in the form of tissues
and clothes (although it has not been possible to positively identify the items they
hold in their hands). The scene ritual value has already been explained, both in its
45 Cianferoni 2007 with previous literature.

46 With arms folded on her chest and pressing one hand to her breast while the other holds a small
vase.
47 See the raised handles with female figurines still spread in Chiusi and in Verucchio at this stage
(Delpino 2007; Trocchi 2007a).

894 Tiziano Trocchi
social and political meaning48 and in its relation with the ceremony form and place.
We therefore have to underline the location and the actions in the middle of the lower
scene, which most likely depicts wedding processions.49 In their middle we can see
gift exchanges, represented by tissues and clothes. This exchange is depicted in a
detached area from the inhabited one50, maybe at its boundaries, and is emphasized
by sacred elements such as waterfowls indicating the afterlife. It has also been sug-
gested that the women are performing sacred activities,51 as the objects they hold
in their right hand—possibly big knives52—might indicate. Despite the varied inter-
pretations, we must highlight that we find on the throne one of the most ancient
representations of a suburban sanctuary, protected by the military and a guarantor
of exchanges and/or religious practices, involving different groups of people. That
seems to anticipate the fundamental role that great sanctuaries in Etruscans emporia
will have during the following centuries.
As further examples of this interpretation we can also add two archeological finds
from different findspots, but with almost the same figurative set. A series of small tin
lamina figurines was found in the Lippi B/1971 grave at Verucchio53 and dates to the
end of the eighth and the beginning of the seventh centuries. The laminae constituted
a sole set: on the sides of a vertical element two warriors with round shields, half-
sphere helmets and spears stand opposite one another. Behind each warrior is a semi-
monstrous beast with its jaws wide open. Above the two warriors are aquatic birds
and a cross-shaped pattern. A very similar scene is carved on a slightly more recently
discovered golden fibula at Vulci Ponte Sodo (Fig. 48.5).54 The compositional scheme
and the subjects are the same: two fighting warriors, with waterfowl and a cross-
shaped pattern above them, and semi-monstrous beasts behind. The iconographical
affinity is clear: in both cases a duel is depicted, which does not indicate a war, but
a private competition with strong symbolical elements that refer to the afterlife. The
birds are connected with the relationship between the scene and the celestial sphere;
the cross-shaped elements are reminiscent of the solar and cosmic sphere. The beasts
refer to the underworld and evoke its not human trait. The analogy between these
scenes and the Roman saga of the twins Romulus and Remus has been suggested in
the context of the formation of an Etruscan and Italic mythological repertoire.
48 The depiction of the fabrics manufacturing, as in the mentioned tintinnabulum in Bologna, is

not related to the simple handmade manufacturing (Gentili 2003), but also to an aristocratic form of
ceremony linked to the mater familias weaving role (von Eles 2002).
49 Torelli 1997c.
50 The environment is identified by the represented trees and animals around the main figurines.
51 von Eles 2002.
52 It would be particularly interesting the active women role in the ritual ceremonies administration.
53 Trocchi 2007b. These laminae were attached to a fabric, which covered the cinerary on which they
formed two identical and symmetrical scenes in a circular frame.

Fig. 48.5: Golden fibula from

Vulci, Ponte Sodo. Munich,
Antikensammlungen (after Montelius
1897, pl. 13, 7)
As for the ruins of worship areas, there was a continuation in the sacred area
of Pian della Civita in Tarquinia,55 where in the seventh century the first important
masonry palace was built, composed of two rooms in sequence with a sacrificial altar
at one end. Outside, a votive deposit has been found, in which was found a lituus
(Fig. 45.2),56 an intentionally damaged shield, an axe, and ceremonial pottery. This
deposit has been interpreted as an offer made by a powerful local person, probably a
king, or as plunder taken from an enemy king and sacrificed to the gods.57 The whole
complex was renovated and fenced in during the mid seventh century. Also in this
area, the body of a deceased woman has been found, who might have been connected
55 Bonghi Jovino 2008 with previous literature.

56 The lituus is considered a symbol of political and religious power, and at the same time represents
the prototype of the Etruscan Auguri typical worshiping tool.
57 The building probably served at this stage both as a place of worship and assembly for a primitive
kind of urban curia (Torelli 2006, with previous literature). A further interpretation considers the
bronze items (axe, shield and lituus) as instruments originally used to inflict capital punishment
(Tassi Scandone 2001). What is most interesting is why merely functionless objects were placed as
offerings in a sacred place that was especially significant to the community, both from the religious
and political perspective.

896 Tiziano Trocchi
to the worship of female deities;58 it is possible that the woman was a priestess. These
ritual burials seem to be a sacred part in the trans-generational continuity in the Tar-
quinian community, and as such, are strong elements of cultural identity.
The initial building stages of the sanctuary of Portonaccio in Veii date to the end
of the seventh century. During this same period a first altar might have been placed,
and a paved stone plan for a wooden structured aedicule were created. A large amount
of oblations are gathered around these places, including Etruscan and Corinthian
ceramics and several ex voto and inscriptions clearly related to female deities.59 The
complex was almost entirely dedicated to Menerva,60 who is closely related to fertility
and breeding, and her worship there was probably oracular.
The sacred area of Sant’Antonio at Caere61 is a further example of stable sacred
building in Etruria. The sanctuary was expanded to its maximum size between the
late archaic Archaic and the classical Classical periods; the main earlier structures
were some cavities discovered between the later constructions, a tank and a building
with three rooms connected by a lengthened one. These structures were left during
the late sixth century. The worship function of these kinds of buildings has not been
fully clarified, but we can suppose that the tripartite plan building, which dates to
the seventh century, is one of the oldest examples of an aristocratic masonry house in
Etruria,62 and testifies to a close relationship between the worship administration and
the aristocratic houses models.63
These last examples lead us to focus on a key-conceptual shift in the evolution
of these forms of worship. We can observe the consolidation of strongly elite worship
models, shown by symbolic items in the grave goods and by an aristocratic admin-
istration of ceremonies. That has been widely emphasized by the themes of funeral
rituals and figurative representations, which show a close connection between the
aristocratic worship models and the formation of an Etruscan-Italic mythical reper-
toire. At the same time, however, the first urban religious structures emerged. This
must be the meaning of the worship of Menerva in Portonaccio sanctuary at Veii,
58 The worship of female fertility goddesses has been suggested to have taken place during the
previous stage as well.
59 Colonna 2001 with previous literature.
60 Menerva represents a very ancient form of worship, linked to fertility and oracular activities. It has
been suggested that this goddess originated in the Latin and Faliscan areas and was then borrowed
by Etruscan religion (Torelli 2000).
61 Maggiani and Rizzo 2005.
62 Similar to those of San Giovenale and Acquarossa.
63 We refer also to the little sacellum in the aristocratic house court in Murlo—which shows the
perpetuation of a strong aristocratic worship administration in northern Etruria—and to the oikos
in Acqua Rossa (Sassatelli 2000 with bibliography) and in Veii Piazza d’Armi (Bartoloni, Acconcia,
and ten Kortenar 2005), both closely linked to aristocratic residences but at the same time perfectly
included in the urban area.

where the worship of female deities, previously reserved for the aristocracy, gained
their oracular value, and turned deities into great civic goddesses.64
We therefore note a triggered process, which led to more mediated worship
models, as suggested by the example of Sant’Antonio in Caere. These models brought
a more communal administration to the religion, and became typical of the great
urban sanctuaries during the following centuries.
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Albert J. Nijboer
49 Economy, 730–580 BCE
Abstract: In this chapter a divide is presented between the economies of:
1. The Early and Middle Orientalizing period (730–640/630), with its lavish levels of wealth and
conspicuous consumption as documented in funerary rituals. This phase also records the emer-
gence of monumental architecture, tombs and infrastructure; and
2. The Late Orientalizing period (640/630–580), with its rising urbanization, increasing work-
shop mode of production and expanding markets for better quality, mass-produced commodi-
ties.
The shift between this divide is exemplified by the transition from huts to houses during the Late
Orientalizing period but can also be illustrated by the imitation of luxury products in more modest
materials. Stylistic conformity and devaluation were the result, revealing close relations between the
various crafts. The economy remained largely landlocked. The increasing exploitation of the available
resources rose gradually, starting from patterns that became established during the eight century.
However, during the seventh century, the scale and differentiation of the economy in Etruria enlarged
significantly assisted by considerable population growth. Surveys have shown that the countryside
around major centers became more and more inhabited with minor settlements. Hierarchies of craft
workers evolved with differences between primary, secondary and tertiary settlements. Specialization
was most advanced in the capitals of the rising city-states. The demand for ceramics during the late
seventh century probably established early nucleation of pottery workshops at key sites such as Veii,
Caere, Tarquinia, Vulci, and Vetulonia. At secondary settlements the process of craft specialization
occurred as well but not to the same extent as in the main power centers.
Market conditions and exchange by quantification were more developed in the trading sites
along the coast for the management of long-distance exchange with overseas traders. Most local
exchange was still reciprocal and by barter. Many farmers lived in or near the key centers and
acquired progressively more products from specialized workshops, reflecting the growth of interior
markets.
Uncertainties remain about the economic role of war and of rising institutions. It is probable
that ongoing economic growth created opportunities for many and that enduring warfare was absent
to some extent as long as the surrounding hinterland of the rising Etruscan city-states was not fully
exploited and dominated. Institutions were predominantly run by the leading families of various
clans. By managing labor and exchange, their hold on the increasingly more complex economy of
Etruria had become considerable.
Keywords: Standardization, urbanization, settlement hierarchy, workshop mode of production,

expanding demand
Introduction
Most of the economic principles and models presented for the Iron Age (see chapter 43
Nijboer) remain valid for the Orientalizing period, since the economy continued to be
essentially agricultural and landlocked, though labor became increasingly controlled

by the upper classes.1
For transparency, this phase is subdivided into:
The Early and Middle Orientalizing period: 730–640/630 and
The Late Orientalizing period: 640/630–580.2
During the Orientalizing period, Late Villanovan centers developed into a network
of emerging Etruscan towns. The socioeconomic progress that is recorded for the
second phase of the Early Iron Age (EIA 2) continues during the late eighth and early
seventh centuries.3 Elaborate warrior tombs of EIA 2 became tombe principesche
that predominantly contain a mix of high-value local goods, table-wares in gold and
silver and numerous oriental keimélia. These tombs demonstrate that the Etruscan
upper classes were increasingly able to appropriate surplus-production and wealth.
Nonetheless they still lived in settlements and proto-urban centers with huts, some of
which became more monumental during the seventh century. Full craft specialization
continues to be documented in prestige goods until around 650.
Besides continuity, there are some basic differences between EIA 2 and the Orien-
talizing period. Urbanization led to substantial economic growth that differentiated
previous customs of production and exchange. The Orientalizing period in Etruria
refers increasingly to the Eastern Mediterranean with its more complex socioeco-
nomic institutions.
The main differences between EIA 2 and the Orientalizing period are:
–– The mounting exploitation of the local resources in the hinterland of main cen-
ters resulting in a settlement hierarchy;
–– The evolution from household production of goods to workshops, also for cera-
mics
–– The emerging replacement of huts by houses;
–– The rise of monumental architecture, tombs and defense works, marking an
increase in corvée labor;
–– Forms of early state formation;
–– The final upsurge of a short-lived period of Etruscan overseas trade that flouris-
hed from around 600 to 500.
1 For comments on the text, forwarded articles and discussion, I would like to thank Prof. A. Naso,
Prof. S. Voutsaki, Prof. G. Bartoloni, Prof. A.M. Bietti Sestieri, Dr. A. de Santis, Dr. A. Rathje, Prof. A.
Zifferero and my students. All dates given are BCE unless otherwise stated.
2 E.g. Barker and Rasmussen 2000, 60–75, 117–20. I also consider the break between Late Orientalizing
and Archaic periods around 580 somewhat contrived with respect to economy. Therefore I will
occasionally refer to the first half of the sixth century in this chapter.
3 See chapters 46 Micozzi and 47 Naso.

49 Economy, 730–580 BCE 903
1 Demography
A rise in population is documented by the transition from huts to houses and by
changes in settlement patterns. In some central Italian settlements, groups of huts
dating to the eighth and seventh centuries have been excavated, which so far do not
reveal a very close packing of structures. Huts are freestanding and surrounded by
open space, which greatly affects the feasible population density in such settlements.
The transition from huts to houses from around 640–630 onwards led to a denser
concentration of homes in the main centers. The early urbanization process, which
was fully established in the sixth century, resulted in primary centers that housed
thousands of people. In addition a clear settlement hierarchy around these primary
centers emerged. This infill of the countryside, with more permanent, secondary and
tertiary settlements, suggests an intensification of land-use and larger population
densities in the hinterland as well. Including the population in the countryside, the
number of people in the territories of the early Etrurian city states may in some cases
have risen to 10,000–15,000 people or more by 580.4 When compared to the figures
for around 730, this would indicate at least a doubling of the population in a period
of about 150 years.
I maintain low to average figures. Some calculate higher numbers, but a soaring
growth in population is unlikely since the economy remained basically agricultural
and not industrial. Comparison with other early civilizations makes it probable that
population increase was slow rather than rapid.5 Moreover, the high rate of infant and
child mortality did not change much. On the other hand people from outside Etruria
might have moved to the emerging, booming Etruscan centers; rapid economic
growth usually attracts people from elsewhere. Some suggest a mean population
density of about 100 people per hectare in the primary Etruscan centers. This would
equal means given for more urban sites such as Mid-Republican Cosa or for various
cities in Northern Italy during the fourteenth century CE.6 Such a level of urbaniza-
tion is unlikely for Etruria during the Orientalizing and even the Archaic period. An
average of fifty inhabitants per hectare still gives us several thousand inhabitants for
some primary centers in Etruria during the sixth century.
It is concluded that the demographic trend of EIA 2 did continue and that there
was a significant increase in population during the Orientalizing period, which con-
siderably affected the scale and organization of the economy.
4 This exercise in demographics merely reveals an order of magnitude. Density of population in the
rising urban centers of Etruria requires a more detailed discussion that would stretch the purpose of
this chapter. The estimate is based on number of tombs, selection criteria for burials, surveys and a
couple of recent settlement excavations.
5 Trigger 2003, 310–3, 397, 661–2.
6 De Ligt 2008, 147–54.

2 Agriculture, resources and their intensified

exploitation
The demographic growth was sustained by increased use of the surrounding farmland.
The gradual infill of the hinterland around the primary Etruscan centers is recorded in
the form of larger and smaller villages, and provides evidence for a growing exploita-
tion of the agricultural and mineral resources.7 By the eighth century, the population
was large enough for the existence of nucleated settlements while being simultane-
ously small enough to live from the land immediately surrounding these centers. With
further population growth, more fields—including remote fields—were exploited, and
farmers started settling in the countryside.
Flavio Enei surveyed a section of the territory of Caere and found a considerable
rise in the number of sites in the countryside during the seventh and sixth centu-
ries.8 A systematic exploitation of the territory is registered, similar to that noticed
in the territory of Veii and elsewhere.9 Enei recognized 113 sites. In the most fertile
areas, some of these were located almost next to each other indicating regular, agri-
cultural plots. The evidence implies small square or rectangular buildings of 20 to
50 m2, covered with tiles of varied manufacture. Pottery included storage jars, cooking
stands and loom weights. Grindstones were recovered as well. Many of the ceram-
ics were made from a red-brown impasto, while the tableware is predominantly
bucchero. Transport amphorae of diverse provenance were frequently encountered.
Thus some of the products recovered in these hinterland sites derived from pottery
workshops elsewhere, which suggests expanding home markets. In addition, a range
of burial grounds was distinguished, from rural to urban, revealing permanent and
stable habitation sites of country people in various types of settlements.10 The intensi-
fication of agricultural production is eventually verified by the production of Etruscan
transport amphorae from 600 onwards.11
Another remarkable feature of land use, especially in southern Etruria and parts
of Latium vetus are cuniculi, the monumental water-controlling shafts for drainage
and water supply cut in the bedrock, some of which are a few kilometers long.12 They
might pertain more to the sixth century and later but it is probable that their construc-
tion started around 600.13
7 E.g. Barker and Rasmussen 2000, 193–199.

8 Enei 1993.
9 Potter 1979, 72–92; Perkins 1991. The data recording infill of the hinterland are more evident for the
sixth century and later than for the seventh century.
10 Enei 1993.
11 E.g. Rizzo 1990.
12 Barker and Rasmussen 2000, 197–8; Izzet 2007, 196–7.
13 E.g. Bersani, Canalini, and Dragoni 2010.

49 Economy, 730–580 BCE 905
A comparable intensification, as recorded for the agricultural land, is docu-

mented for the metal ore resources. Acquarossa and Populonia provide fine examples
for the increasing exploitation of minerals in Etruria.14 The archaeological evidence
from both sites reveals a development from village to early towns, which makes it
unlikely that we are just dealing with mining as corvée labor.
3 Territorial control over resources

Territorial control over resources was directed from the main centers in Etruria. Road
networks, cuniculi, and settlement patterns radiate from these primary towns into
the hinterland.15 The rise of high status tombs in the countryside from 650 onwards
suggests that agricultural resources were controlled by the upper class. Nonethe-
less private ownership of land is still reconstructed as limited because clan-heads/
patrons provided access to these resources for their clans/clients. An example of ter-
ritorial control is provided by Casale Marittimo in northern Etruria. The remarkable
finds record an upper-class family living in the countryside during the Orientalizing
period. It is implied that Volterra, 15 km northeast of Casale Marittimo, regulated
these small-scale, elite exploits.16 This pattern of the upper classes gradually occu-
pying and informally claiming the hinterland coincides with a model proposed by
Andrea Zifferero,17 who suggests that territorial control is first documented in the rise
of monumental tumuli in the countryside around the primary centers during the Ori-
entalizing period.18
A number of secondary centers, emerging from the eighth century onwards, might
have had an autonomous development, to some extent. However, the economic-
political weight of many of these sites altered or declined during the sixth century
with strengthening processes of city-state formation. An example of this phenom-
enon is Marsiliana d’Albegna, where there is an exceptional number of high-status
tombs.19 No other site besides Vetulonia revealed so many bronze ribbed bowls, one
of the status markers in Italy, while Adriana Emiliozzi lists fourteen chariots/wagons/
carts mainly dated to between 700–650.20 Some of these tombs also contained gold,
14 E.g. Nijboer 1998, 265–8, 272–7.

15 E.g. Rendeli 1993; Izzet 2007, 189–207.
16 Esposito 1999; Nijboer 2008, 444–5; see chapter 71 Nielsen and Warden.
17 Zifferero 1991b; 2002.
18 See chapter 72 Zifferero. Later, sanctuaries became “liminal” markers for larger, city-state frontiers,
a trend that rose from around 600 onwards (e.g. Izzet 2007, 190–3). A comparable reading is given for
Cortona (Fortunelli 2005).
19 Minto 1921.
20 Sciacca 2005, 123–45, 328–32, 431–40; Emiliozzi 1997, 320–2. See also Zifferero et al. 2009; 2011.

Fig. 49.1: Acquarossa, the three settlement areas, two metal ore deposits in walking distance and
some burial grounds 1. Acquarossa; 2. Ferento; 3. M. Piombone; 4. Ore deposit of Solfatara;
5. Ore deposit of Macchia Grande (from Zifferero 1991a, fig. 13)
silver and ivory. The data imply that several specialist craftsmen, working for the
upper classes at Marsiliana d’Albegna, were fully employed producing these prestige
goods.21
Acquarossa provides another example of a site that grew considerably during the
Orientalizing period but declined during the late sixth century (Fig. 49.1). Its develop-
ment seems to be closely linked to the expanding exploitation of its nearby metal
21 In this sense Masiliana d’Albegna is like Verucchio (see chapter 76 von Eles). It is probable that
control over long-distance trade at key locations of the inland network resulted in display of wealth
at some secondary sites as well.

49 Economy, 730–580 BCE 907
ores.22 Thus the archaeological data document an increase in scale of the economy,
and tightening territorial control over resources during the Orientalizing period.
4 Exchange network
The overland exchange network, covering large parts of the peninsula, continued to
flourish. For example, Baltic amber, which was distributed overland, was ever more
deposited in female tombs during the period between 730 and 650. Throughout this
phase, the demand for high-value goods grew rapidly thanks to conspicuous con-
sumption not just in the primary Etrurian centers but also elsewhere, as illustrated
by sites like Marsiliana d’Albegna, mentioned above. A register of high-status tombs
and their long-distance imports does not exist, but elite markers such as chariots
and bronze ribbed bowls give a hint to the scale of the phenomenon. Thus Emiliozzi
assigns around ninety tombs with chariots/carts/wagons in Etruria to the Oriental-
izing period.23
The overseas network with traders/craftsmen intensified as well. The import
of particularly Levantine luxuries during the eighth century appears to have been
associated with freedom of trade. This kind of trade initially develops when small
groups originating from elsewhere are involved, such as traders from various Phoeni-
cian city-states and Euboean settlements. Mediums of exchange, weights and other
units appeared and the market principle became incorporated, especially for trade
in metals and long-distance commerce. Moreover, this stimulated internal changes
in the modes of production, which subsequently became directed to the Etruscan
involvement in an overseas trading network. From around 600 onwards, the export of
Etruscan transport amphorae, bucchero and other commodities to mainly southern
France, documents the effective transition of the domestic economy (Fig. 49.2), which
is associated with a rising standardization of local goods produced in workshops (see
below).
According to Olaf Höckmann, the Iron Age Etruscan boat models were predomi-
nantly used for inland navigation on rivers and lakes.24 Larger vessels are depicted
in Etruria from around 700 onwards, including seaworthy “hybrid” boats with local,
Phoenician and Greek shipbuilding characteristics.25 Some ships and traders from
Etruria participated in the seaborne trading network as partners of Phoenicians and
Greek speaking groups. Emporia or entrepôts are an intriguing feature of this net-
22 Nijboer 1998, 161–4; 265–8.

23 Emiliozzi 1997, 319–29. See chapter 24 Emiliozzi.
24 Höckmann 2001, 228.
25 See chapter 22 Pomey.

908
Albert J. Nijboer
Fig. 49.2: Find spots of Etruscan amphorae and Etruscan fine tableware, especially bucchero (compiled by A. Naso)

49 Economy, 730–580 BCE 909
work.26 Some of these trading posts are well defined, such as the emporia at Pyrgi
and Gravisca. With the rise in scale, commerce with foreigners became consigned to
neutral locations along the coast. Freedom of trade with overseas merchants became
regulated trade during the seventh century.27 The upper classes in Etruria took meas-
ures to control economic relations with their overseas partners, thus protecting exist-
ing domestic socioeconomic arrangements.
5 Practice of exchange
Based on growing patron-client relations within a clan structure, reciprocity in all its
variations remained at the heart of the local exchange mechanism in Etruria.28 Some
of the collected surplus production was redistributed by the upper classes during
feasts and religious ceremonies while conspicuous consumption is mainly recorded
in funerary rituals.29 The necessary prestige goods were produced by specialized
craftsmen, who were employed by the elite.30
Close relations with Phoenician and Euboean merchants and craftsmen led to the
adoption of specific metrological units and the alphabet around 700.31 It seems that in
gateway communities, exchange with strangers was sanctioned by ritual and religious
convention originating from a formalized guest meal/banquet between members of
the Etruscan upper classes and their overseas guests.32 Metrological units are asso-
ciated with the production and exchange of metals and with agricultural surplus
production as marked by the Etruscan transport amphorae. A lucid context illustrat-
ing the use of metrological units is the wreck at Campese Bay near Isola del Giglio,
which dates to between 590/580,33 whose cargo included merchandise of diverse
provenance.34 In addition to unprocessed amber, pitch, raw and worked metals, it
contained fifteen Greek transport amphorae from Corinth, Sparta and Samos and one
from a Phoenician-Punic center. Around 130 amphorae —the majority— were Etrus-
26 Emporion, gateway community, entrepôt and port of trade are used as synonyms here.
27 Nijboer 1998, 48–50; 56–61.
28 See chapter 47 Naso. Patron-client relations and clan organization are used here as basic
social principles of economic dependence and differentiation. They do not necessarily equal the
socioeconomic conditions in Republican Rome.
29 Ceremonies and feasts are reflected, for example, in the evidence from Murlo/Poggio Civitate,
partially discussed in section 6; Nijboer 2012.
30 See for notions on elite-sponsored production and corvée labor, Costin 1996 referring to the Inca
civilization.
31 Nijboer 2006; see chapter 21 Haack.
32 Nijboer 2012.
33 Bound 1991, 232.
34 Bound 1991, 229; Nijboer 1998, 316–7.

can. The contents of the amphorae mark the commercial exploitation of pines and
olive groves in Etruria.35 The commodities on board reflect a wide exchange circuit
while the ship went from relay point to relay point, at each place both exchanging
and loading commodities resulting in mixed cargo. The presence on the ship of some
weights and more or less standardized vessels, such as transport amphorae, sub-
stantiates the notion that certain goods were exchanged in Etruria by quantification
within an early, market mechanism. This mechanism emerged soon after the arrival of
Phoenician and Euboean traders during the late ninth and eighth centuries.36 By 650,
metrological units were acknowledged in gateway communities and other trading
places. For local exchange, however, quantification seems to have been limited. In
rising towns, many goods were made in workshops by 600, but these seem to have
been partially transferred within restricted market conditions. Most of the domestic
exchange was probably still by barter and continued to be reciprocal.
6 Primary evidence on production; the rise

of workshops
The primary evidence on production suggests a hierarchy in craft specialization that is
in line with the emerging settlement hierarchy. In main centers a range of workshops
became established while in small sites, part-time specialization was dominant.
The Orientalizing period saw the evolution from household production of goods—
including ceramics—to workshops. For example, some ceramic vessels from Tomb
7 at Poggio Buco were made in series during the Late Orientalizing period. Another
example is provided by the ceramics produced at Veii. Surveys and excavations have
established the existence of areas on the extensive plateau where ceramics were pro-
duced from the Iron Age onwards.37 The output of craftsmen gradually included more
standardized, customary goods. Increasingly high-volume/low-value artifacts were
produced in early urban workshops from around 650 onwards.
In the main Etruscan centers, complex levels of industrial specialization are
found. During the Orientalizing period there are a number of ware groups that suggest
various ceramic workshops in these centers. For example, the local production of
bucchero is attested for several sites. The development of the bucchero production
was described as “pièces de prestige (au VIIe s), pièces de demi-luxe perpétuant une
tradition aristocratique (fin du VIIe et VIe s) et pièces utilitaires communes (fin du VIe
35 Bound 1991, 203–11; Cristofani 1995, 131.

36 Nijboer 1998, 297–338; 2006.
37 Cascino 2008; Boitani, Neri, and Biagi 2009; Ambrosini and Belelli Marchesini 2010, 211.

49 Economy, 730–580 BCE 911
au IVe s).”38 This transformation of the bucchero production characterizes the change
of the entire ceramic industry in Etruria.39 Besides bucchero, other main ware groups,
such as impasto rosso and tableware made from depurated clays on a fast wheel, were
increasingly produced in workshops.40 It is especially in the production of ceramics
that we witness the rising quantities of “better quality, mass-produced commodities”
or low value/high volume goods in main centers such as Caere and Tarquinia.41 The
output of the various crafts in the major centers of Etruria makes it probable that
nucleation of workshops arose during the Late Orientalizing period. The existence of
several workshops per profession in one settlement is a characteristic of early towns
requiring a population of at least several thousand.
At secondary centers more mixed arrangements for craft specialization are
recorded. Poggio Civitate is discussed in some detail here and provides a fine example
of a monumental building complex in the countryside, where a number of crafts were
performed from around 640 to 550/530.42 The monumental buildings at Poggio Civi-
tate were part of a small settlement. Loom weights, spools and spindle-whorls are
common and reveal the domestic production of textiles.43 Among the architectural
ceramics, there are quite a few that belong to the earliest examples in central Italy.
The life-sized terracotta figures and substantial drainage pipes exemplify the out-
standing competence of the artisans who erected these buildings.44
Two major building phases are reported. The first phase dates to the period
between 640–590, in which the southeast building or stoa-workshop is singled out.45
It is a spacious, roofed area that was open on all sides for adequate light and ventila-
tion, and can be dated to 630.46 The manufacture of tiles and architectural decorations
in this workshop is verified. Moreover, industrial waste from the processing of other
38 Gran-Aymerich 1993, 35.

39 Nijboer 1998, chapter II.
40 E.g. Micozzi 1994; Medori 2010; Neri 2010; Gabrielli 2010. The impasto rosso ceramic tradition is
closely related to the early manufacture of tiles and other terracottas.
41 For an impression of the considerable variability of pastes and ceramics in use during the
Orientalizing period in the towns of Tarquinia and Caere, see: Bagnasco Gianni 2010; Bonghi Jovino
and Chiaramonte Trere 1997, 160–89; Bonghi Jovino and Biagnasco Gianni 2001, 1–397; Cristofani
1992, 29–31,107–87; 1993, 217–71, 319–21, 351–64, 367–476.
42 See chapter 71 Nielsens and Warden, for a general description and interpretation of the site;
Nijboer 2012.
43 Stopponi 1985, 149.
44 For a report on the site see Phillips 1993. The drainage tubes are published in: Stopponi 1985,
127–8.
45 It was erected with the Italic/Oscan foot as the principal measuring unit, and is the earliest
example in central Italy of the employment of a measure for construction works (Nielsen 1987, 91–2;
Nijboer 1998, 326–8).
46 Nielsen 1987, 116–9; Winter 2009, 52–4.

materials like ivory, bone, and metals, was recovered in or around the structure.47
Therefore, one of the functions of the building was to serve as a manufacturing area.
Around 590 the stoa-workshop was destroyed by fire. The large, rectangular build-
ings at Poggio Civitate were replaced by an impressive construction with a generous,
colonnaded central courtyard.
The unitary style at Poggio Civitate in both the terracottas and other pottery
reflects an organization of the ceramic craft, which involved both potters and coro-
plasts.48 It has been established that tiles, ceramic statues and impasto household
wares were locally produced from the same clay deposit.49 Progress in efficiency is
documented in the roof tiles because the early specimens are not as standardized as
those produced around 590/580.50 Thus the pottery workshop at Poggio Civitate made
architectural terracottas, common household vessels and tableware besides elabo-
rately constructed bucchero cups with molded handles. A similar close relation was
noticed at other secondary sites. This supports the view that in several settlements
in Etruria a range of materials were processed near to each other, possibly in one
workshop.51
Another example of a secondary site is Acquarossa that was briefly mentioned
above in relation to the exploitation of its nearby metal ores (Fig. 49.01). The transi-
tion from huts to houses in Etruria from around 640/630 onwards created a massive
demand for tiles, which can best be exemplified by the site of Acquarossa, where huts
were replaced by buildings with stone foundations and tiled roofs.52 Construction
proceeded and the site grew in a relatively short period to include numerous build-
ings at the time of its destruction around 550/525.53 The detailed publications by Örjan
Wikander allow for some quantification of the output.54 More than one pottery work-
shop probably existed at Acquarossa. Workshops that modeled the ceramic build-
ing materials increasingly absorbed the manufacture of other coarse, household and
tableware. In time, the household production of these ceramics became restricted,
especially in the larger settlements. Thus the upsurge in building activities at Acqua-
47 Nielsen 1993; Warden 1993; Nijboer 1998, 277–81.

48 Cristofani 1975, 11–12.
49 Tobey, Nielsen and Rowe 1986; Nijboer 1998, 164–71.
50 Phillips 1993, 56.
51 See for the concept of poly-functional workshops, Bonghi Jovino 1990, 44–54.
52 E.g. Winter 2009.
53 Less than 4% of the site was excavated; extrapolation leads to a figure of 1,200 buildings (Wikander
1993, 137–9). However, extrapolation often results in high figures, which are not confirmed by cross-
cultural analysis. Often, too little terrain is allocated to open spaces and public use such as defense
systems, roads, alleys, squares and even vegetable plots. Nonetheless, a considerable number of
houses must have existed at Acquarossa around 600–550.
54 Wikander 1993; Nijboer 1998, 161–4.

49 Economy, 730–580 BCE 913
rossa and elsewhere suggests a concentration of workshops at the sites that acquired
urban characteristics during the sixth century.
Smaller, rural sites, like the settlement at Lago dell’Accesa, document more mixed
activities.55 According to Giovannangelo Camporeale, the economy of the settlement
at Lago dell’Accesa was based on mining local ores in combination with subsistence
activities. Hunting, fishing and agriculture are recorded by the implements that were
recovered. Thus, meals could be supplemented with game and fish.56 On account of
the quantity of weaving tools and the low degree of specialization reflected in the
pottery, it is suggested that women were involved in domestic activities, weaving, and
the production of household ceramics. The reconstruction of the local economy is one
of part-time specialization.57 The buildings and the associated finds, however, denote
relatively comfortable living circumstances for a number of families who combined
mining with a range of other activities.
7 Organization of labor
The upper classes of Etruria expanded their control over labor. For example, their
monumental burial mounds signify an increase in corvée labor since it required the
displacement of massive amounts of soil. By 580 around 5% of the people in Etruria
might have controlled a substantial part of the wealth of their group/clan.58 It appears
that elite families were generally in charge of organizing labor, and each of these fam-
ilies was dominated by a powerful lineage that claimed an ancestry stretching into
the remote past. However, the majority of the population obviously was not counted
among the elite. For the remaining 95% of the population, labor was split as follows:
90% farming; 5–10% crafts; 2–5% services in administration, religion, trade and per-
sonal care.59 When compared to the percentages given for the Iron Age (see chapter 43
Nijboer), one can detect a gradual shift. As mentioned before, agriculture remained
at the heart of the economy even if it was exploited and controlled more firmly than
around 750. Since the economy remained farm-based, socioeconomic transforma-
tions were relatively slow. It is assessed that between 5 to 10% of the people were
involved in mining and producing metal and ceramic commodities as well as special-
55 Camporeale 1997; Nijboer 1998, 270–2.

56 Camporeale 1985, 135; 1997.
57 Camporeale 1985, 26–78; 1997.
58 Trigger 2003, 153.
59 The percentages given here and in the abstract of chapter 43 rest mainly on those provided by Trigger
2003, 154–7, 313. I have adjusted his percentages somewhat because he examined early civilizations
that can be compared better to Etruria around 500–400 than to Etruria around 600. Slavery may have
existed but we have no data that suggests it was widespread during the Orientalizing period.

ist goods like particular textiles, ivory vessels, gold and silver jewelry, and other craft-
artifacts that employed a wide range of local and imported raw materials. Most of the
goods used for daily life could still be made in individual households during quieter
periods of seasonal farm labor. Spinning and weaving tools in houses indicate that
the majority of the households remained involved in textile production. This might
also be valid for other objects such as basic furniture and basketry.
Services included a small group for administration and trade, a few professional
patrollers or soldiers and some personal attendants. Troops, whenever required,
would have been largely made up of conscript clients whose main activities were agri-
cultural. Musicians pertain to a special group that comes to the fore. New musical
instruments became available, some of which have been actually excavated.60 Depic-
tions of musicians with instruments such as flutes, horns, trumpets and zithers
suggest that music accompanied fairs, symposia, processions, battles and dances.61
The nature and the number of occasions implies that in the major centers of Etruria,
companies of musicians might have existed from the late seventh century onwards,
providing their services whenever requested.
8 Customary and luxury goods

It was mainly the conspicuous consumption of the elite—as observed in their tombs—
that caused ongoing craft specialization during the Early Orientalizing period. The
treasures found in elite tombs indicate close contacts and long-distance exchange
between the upper classes in Etruria.62 Chariots and seaworthy ships form an exclu-
sive group of costly products, the construction of which required explicit knowledge
of building techniques, a substantial team of workman, supervisors and considerable
resources. As such, they document the high standing of economic organization feasi-
ble in Etruria during the Late Orientalizing period.
The manufacture of ordinary or low-value goods in workshops also developed
significantly. Ceramic tiles have already been discussed, above. Another group of
standardized goods are the Etruscan transport amphorae. A detailed account of their
manufacture would, indeed, be interesting because they record economic arrange-
ments that are administered.63 Unfortunately this aspect is still difficult to examine
due to a lack of excavated production sites of Etruscan transport amphorae, inscrip-
tions, homogenous fabrics and standard measurements. Especially the early Etruscan
60 See chapter 30 Li Castro.

61 For Poggio Civitate see, for example, Rathje 1993.
62 See chapter 47 Naso. A recent exhibition exemplifies these firm relations for Vetulonia and
Verucchio (Cygielman, Spaziani and Rafanelli 2009).
63 See now Zifferero et al. 2009; 2011.

49 Economy, 730–580 BCE 915
amphorae types are not standardized.64 They are labeled Etruscan amphorae because
their manufacture cannot be attributed to specific sites in Etruria though Vulci and
Caere are frequently implicated as major production centers.65 Elite families seem to
have been in control of their manufacture and of the collection of the processed crops
and wine that were to be transported in them.66 Therefore it seems that exchange, even
of the agricultural, surplus production, was directed by the elite, as was the trade of
luxury goods. By managing labor and exchange, the elite’s hold on the increasingly
more complex economy of Etruria had become considerable.
9 Appropriation of wealth
The recurring theme of this chapter is that stable progress in production and demand
in all its aspects, encouraged socioeconomic complexity. The economy became more
differentiated while being controlled by an upper class that expanded their grip
on daily life of those who depended on them. In comparison to other early civiliza-
tions, however, Etruria seems to lack economic appropriation by institutions. In most
ancient civilizations, various institutions—like kings and sanctuaries—existed that
actually owned large tracts of land.67 Both are present in Etruria during the Orientaliz-
ing period but appear to develop weakly, probably due to the prevailing clan structure
of society that resulted in patrician and eventually oligarchic arrangements. Institu-
tions seem to have depended on these elite families and did not become economi-
cally independent. They could not appropriate enough resources to erect themselves
as state institutions lasting monumental palaces and temples. Clans with their main
lineages and leaders seem to have dominated socioeconomic conditions. Each key
center housed several of these elite families, who managed to divide the available
resources and their surplus yield. The appropriation of wealth in Etruria is primar-
ily recorded for the upper class, or those who were striving to join them, and not by
institutions.
The above sections illustrate that the privileged classes in Etruria managed to
control surplus production more effectively and on a larger scale than ever before,
eventually to such an extent that they could participate in an overseas long-distance
64 For instance, Bound noticed that the Etruscan amphorae from the Giglio shipwreck lack
standardization in dimensions (Bound 1991, 203–8).
65 Colonna 2006, 658. Type Py 5 amphorae appear to have had more uniform dimensions. In her
catalogue, Rizzo published four Py 5 amphorae, which have matching measurements (Rizzo 1990,
122, 141, 146). Bouloumié suggests that some Etruscan amphorae contained 21 liters while others
contained 7 liters (Bouloumié 1982, 3–10).
66 Höckmann 2001, 243.
67 Trigger 2003, 321–31.

trading network. The export of commodities from Etruria reflects the effective control
over surplus production.68 This scenario proves that the elite registered and directed
overseas trade, partially by the establishment of emporia. In addition, overland
exchange between the various centers remained essential and was managed by the
upper classes as well, judging from the wealth deposited in a number of tombs at
some secondary sites that were located at key positions within this trading network.
10 Conclusion and discussion

In this chapter a divide was presented between the economies of:
1. The Early and Middle Orientalizing periods: 730–640/630 and
2. The Late Orientalizing period: 640/630–580.
The gradual shift between this divide is exemplified by the transition from huts to
houses from around 640/630 onwards but can also be illustrated with some stylistic
resemblances between ivory, gold and silver vessels from central Italy and beyond
with their bucchero/ceramic counterparts. All vessels can be roughly dated to the
first half of the seventh century. For most sites, the imitation of luxury goods in more
common materials is recorded.
The increasing exploitation of available resources developed gradually, start-
ing from patterns that became established during the eighth century. The economy
remained largely landlocked though maritime trade was briefly explored, flourishing
between 625 and 500.
The scale and differentiation of the economy in Etruria grew significantly. This is
best reflected in the size and hierarchy of the settlements. Surveys have shown that
the countryside around major Etruscan centers became more and more inhabited.
Hierarchies of craft workers evolved as well with main differences between primary,
secondary and tertiary settlements. Specialization was most advanced in the capitals
of the rising city-states. For example, the demand for ceramics during the late seventh
century probably established early nucleation of pottery workshops at key centers
such as Veii, Caere, Tarquinia, Vulci, and Vetulonia. Nucleation of workshops encour-
aged full-time craft specialization in the main centers of power, and at some second-
ary sites as well, but not to the same extent.
Market conditions were more developed in the emporia along the coast for the
management of exchange with overseas traders. Most domestic exchange was prob-
ably still by barter and took place within clans. Patron-client relations caused unbal-
anced reciprocity. Many farmers lived in or near the key centers. It is evident that
68 E.g. Cristofani 1984.

49 Economy, 730–580 BCE 917
they acquired progressively more products from workshops, which reflected growing
interior markets. This is confirmed by the surveys in the hinterland of Caere, where
various products from workshops were recovered in a rural setting.69
Uncertainties remain about the economic role of war and of emerging institutions.
It is probable that ongoing economic growth created opportunities for many and that
enduring warfare was absent to some extent as long as the surrounding hinterland
was not fully exploited and dominated. Institutions did expand during the late Orien-
talizing period, mainly in the form of elite practices, sanctuaries and trading settle-
ments, but it seems that institutions were unable to appropriate economic resources
themselves. Warfare, sanctuaries and trade were predominantly run by the leaders of
various elite families, preventing the firm establishment of one lasting royal lineage
per city-state. These topics, however, fall outside the scope of this chapter.
Another issue that calls for a better understanding is internal exchange or domes-
tic markets. How was trade in the “better quality, mass-produced commodities” organ-
ized in the rising city-states of Etruria? Specialization and more complex forms of pro-
duction enhance socioeconomic interdependence. In addition, workshops ultimately
require measures of weight and volume, units that are accountable. These units are so
far hardly found in Etruria during the Orientalizing period. This implies that domestic
markets were still poorly developed. Nonetheless, the resulting more complex levels
of organization strengthened the position of the upper class, who were clearly in
control of labor and thus the economic developments in Etruria.
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Marina Micozzi
50 External Relationships, 730–580 BCE
Abstract: The Orientalizing phenomenon bases itself on the Etruscans’ openness towards external
influences. More than ever before, Etruria entered into a wider Mediterranean context of the circula-
tion of goods, people and ideas, as well as relations with the Near East and Greece.
Furthermore, the extraordinary flourishing of Orientalizing Etruria became a point of reference
for all regions of the peninsula and continental Europe where social hierarchization was beginning
to arise. Almost all the Italic populations (the neighboring Latins, Falisci, Capenates, Sabines and
Umbrians, the Picenians, the northern cultures of Golasecca and Este and indigenous centers of
southern Italy), as well as those in continental Europe, received precious Etruscan status symbols for
the local aristocracies. Through the Etruscans they also took Greek cultural models, like the centrality
of the symposium, or the aristocratic ideal of war as a struggle between individual heroes riding on
chariots. The cultural contacts were also favored by the movement of Etruscan people, responsible for
the initiation of local artisan workshops as well as for the transmission of writing in many Italic areas.
These relations were not unilateral: grave goods and epigraphy also show that the Etruscans received
foreign objects and people.
This chapter presents a brief overview of these relationships and tries to highlight constant
themes as well as differences.
Keywords: Relationship; Etruria; Italic populations; Etruscans and Europe
Introduction
The Orientalizing phenomenon was based on the Etruscans’ openness to external
influences within a wider Mediterranean context of the circulation of goods, people,
and ideas. Near Eastern and Greek influences influences accelerated and shaped the
processes of economic and social change that had begun to take place in Etruscan
society already at end of the Early Iron Age.
Studies in recent decades have clearly established how the reception of external
stimuli operated through a process of selection and creative reelaboration, attributing
an ever more autonomous and increasingly active role to the Etruscans in the dialectic
between the different ethno-cultural components.1
Reevaluating the Etruscans’ role also sheds new light on asymmetries that existed
between Tyrrhenian cities in the acculturation process, with discontinuities linked to
the establishment of preferential relations with various Greek components competing
for the conquest of Western markets. At this point in time, some structural dynamics
I wish to thank Dr. Yvonne A. Mazurek for the English translation.

1 See e.g. Colonna 2002.
922 Marina Micozzi
emerged that would affect the subsequent course of Tyrrhenian history up through
the crisis of the fifth century bce.
1 The Eastern Mediterranean

Until recently, research unequivocally interpreted the presence of Etruscan goods in
Hellenic sanctuaries as offerings from Greeks returning from the Italian peninsula.
Current studies argue that these goods are linked to aristocratic gift-giving and reflect
the Etruscan communities’ desire to assert themselves internationally.2
Between the late eighth and seventh centuries, such offerings are mostly repre-
sented by valuable bronze objects (helmets, shields, vases and thrones) identified
in Etruria as symbols of rank (see chapter 46 Micozzi). When such objects appear in
the Italian peninsula or Transalpine Europe far from their production sites, they are
universally interpreted as indicators of an Etruscan presence, or as ceremonial gifts
with commercial implications. Their presence in Hellenic sanctuaries could thus cor-
respond to the same logic of self-representation transferred into a sacred sphere and
associated with the attendance at those sanctuaries by Etruscans or their intermedi-
aries.
Studies from recent decades have shifted focus from the movement of commodi-
ties to the movement of people. On the basis of the proliferation of many handcraft
activities (see chapter 46 Micozzi), Near Eastern craftsmen seem to have had an exten-
sive presence in Etruria, but, based on present knowledge, they do not seem to have
left epigraphic or literary traces comparable to those of the Greeks. Certain Greeks in
Etruria came directly from the upper (most probably literate) classes, as attested by
Rutile Hipucrates of the Tumulus of the King in Tarquinia (Fig. 47.2a), and by Demara-
tus, who moved to Tarquinia in the first half of the seventh century, when the city
became immersed in a cultural climate undoubtedly linked to Corinth.
2 The Italian peninsula

The directions of Etruscan expansion into Campania, Emilia Romagna, and the central
Adriatic coast (Fermo) indicate that, by the Early Iron Age, there was a broad interest
in different parts of the peninsula. This is substantiated by Cato’s (Serv. 11.567) and
Livy’s (1.2.5.33) assertions about the important role Etruscans played in pre-Roman
Italy.
2 Naso 2006 with further bibliography; see also chapter 87 Naso.

50 External Relationships, 730–580 BCE 923
In the seventh century, the extraordinary flourishing of Orientalizing Etruria was

unmatched elsewhere in the western Mediterranean and became a point of reference
for all regions of the peninsula and continental Europe, where social hierarchization
was beginning to arise.
2.1 The neighboring populations: Latins, Faliscans, Capenates,

Sabines and Umbrians
Relations with neighboring populations were characterized by mutual horizontal

mobility—also documented in onomastics3—and by zones of cultural osmosis in
border areas.
The Faliscan and Capenate areas, already connected to Etruria by ancient tradi-
tion, together with Caere and Veii shaped a district with strong cultural ties that are
evidenced by the circulation of vases, embossed bronzes, and other precious artifacts
found in the grave goods emerging from Narce and Faleri (see chapter 46 Micozzi).
These relations involved people moving, for example, from Etruria to Narce, where
Etruscophones were integrated into the local community,4 (Fig. 17.2) and perhaps in
the opposite direction, judging from the existence of Narce-style loculus tombs in the
Caeretan necropolis of Poggio dell’Asino.5
Veii, the Etruscan outpost on the Tiber, played a key role in relations between
southern Etruria and Latin-speaking populations. Already at an advanced stage of
the Early Iron Age, tombs of warriors appear in Latium (at Osteria dell’Osa, Decima,
Rome and Velletri), distinguished by the presence of weapons and other rich grave
goods clearly attributable to people of Etruscan origin, and probably from Veii, who
were fully integrated into local society (see chapter 79 Naso).6
In the seventh century, some centers on the Latin side of the Tiber (Crustume-
rium, Fidenae, Nomentum and Acqua Acetosa Laurentina) had mixed cultures, with
evident Etruscan elements, but also Faliscan, Capenate and Sabine influences. Due
to its strategic position, Crustumerium, a border town notably linked to Etruria by
Pliny (HN 52) and Festus (Paul. Fest., p. 55.12 L.) and which Plutarch defined as Sabine
(Rom. 17.1), acted as a pole of attraction for different cultural components and cer-
tainly had contact with Etruscan people from Veii and Caere.7
3 Marchesini 2004; 2010.

4 Cristofani 1988. Relations between Faliscans and Etruscans were recently discussed in De Lucia
Brolli and Tabolli 2013, with references.
5 Di Gennaro 2007.
6 De Santis 2005.
7 See most recently Attema, Di Gennaro, and Jarva 2013 with further bibliography.

924 Marina Micozzi
Fig. 50.1: Pyxis in “white-on-red” ware from Crustumerium,

Monte del Bufalo, Tomb 111 (after De Puma 2010)
This phenomenon regards both funerary architecture, dominated by the Veientan-

Faliscan loculus type, and material culture. The latter distinguished itself, among
other things, through the presence of a large group of red impasto vases with white-on-
red decoration (Fig. 50.1), a decorative technique scarcely represented in Latium, but
characteristic of the Caeretan and Faliscan territories. Alongside apparently imported
examples, there are clearly recognizable local products, which have parallels in the
Faliscan, Capenate and Veientan areas both through the morphological repertoire
and through the decoration—largely modeled on that of incised and excised impasto
vases. Yet these local products also refer to Caere in their adoption of the pyxis form
and the figurative decoration of certain examples.8
Relations between Caere and Latium are also well documented by gold work and
other precious objects from Caeretan workshops found in certain tombs of Latium
vetus (see chapters 46 Micozzi and 79 Naso). In particular, the tombs of Praeneste’s
principes adhere to an Etruscan Orientalizing lifestyle and, combined with the
widely discussed vetusia inscription from the Bernardini Tomb,9 could suggest that
the deceased were Etruscan. These tombs are certainly some of the best demonstra-
8 Micozzi 2014 with further references.

9 Martelli 2008, 136 footnote 26.

tions of the relations between ruling classes involving the movement of luxury goods
through the practice of ceremonial gift-giving. From the Late Orientalizing period, this
practice can be seen in religious spheres, as in the case of elaborate bucchero kylix
dedicated by Laris Velchaina in the sanctuary of Satricum, and probably originating
from Caere.10 It was from Caere that proto-Corinthian ceramics arrived (perhaps via
the sea), as well as their imitations present at Satricum and other sites on the coast
of Latium. Perhaps through Praeneste, Caere received Picene goods similar to types
well known in that Latin city, located at the mouth of one of the routes that ensured
communication with the Adriatic coast by way of neighboring Italic populations.11
The need to access routes to the Adriatic is one of the main reasons that relations
developed between the Etruscans, Umbrians and Sabines. The accelerated social and
cultural dynamics set in motion by these contacts were crucial to the ethnogenesis of
the Umbrian nation, according to Mario Torelli.12
The phenomenon took place particularly early in the Terni basin, where, already
in the eighth century, there was a large proto-urban conglomeration whose necropolis
shows close relations with Southern Etruria and the Faliscan area.13 During the Ori-
entalizing period, in all nodal points of the trans-Appenine routes—largely coincid-
ing with the future courses of the Salaria and Flaminia—there are rich burials that
show contacts with southern Etruria, the Faliscan-Capenate area and Latium Vetus
on one side, and with the Adriatic on the other. The way is marked by the diffusion of
southern Etruscan bronze shields (in Poggio Sommavilla, Terni, S. Anatolia di Narco,
Colfiorito, Matelica, Pitino di San Severino, Fabriano and Verucchio), which corre-
sponds to the presence and imitation of the characteristic biconicals with differenti-
ated handles of the “Terni-type” in the Volsini area and the hinterland of Vulci.14 At
the southern tip of this system, Otricoli, the port on the Tiber of the Naharci (Umbri-
ans), is both the probable provenance of the first Paleoumbrian inscription, as well as
the radiation point towards the Adriatic of certain vase types (for example, biconicals
and four-handled chalices) and decorative techniques.15 At the mouth of the Umbrian
Valley, the recent archaeological findings from Spoleto confirm the same culturally
varied framework, but with clear Adriatic connotations in the tomb-type, enriched by
northern Etruscan elements.16 Further north, at Fabbrecce—near Città di Castello—a
warrior’s tomb17 similarly shows mixed characteristics—Picene in tomb- and weapon-
10 Also suggested by the new specimen from Monte dell’Oro: Rizzo 2006.
11 Naso 2000, 169–70, 206.
12 Torelli 2010.
13 Bonomi Ponzi 2010, 165–73, with further references.
14 Colonna 2001, 17–19.
15 Cenciaioli 2001; Colonna 2001; on the most ancient Paleoumbrian inscriptions see now Benelli
2008.
16 Manconi 2010; Bruni, Costamagna, and Giorgi 2014; Manca and Weidig 2014.
17 Lo Schiavo and Romualdi 2009, 143–93.

926 Marina Micozzi
Fig. 50.2: Handle of pyxis/censer

from Fabbrecce (after Lo Schiavo,
Romualdi 2009)
types (especially the helmet with composite calotte); Faliscan-Capenate in impasto

ceramics, and Vetulonian in the bronze vessels (Fig. 50.2), which feature two bronze
handles with lions and lotus flowers from a well-known series of lebetes also present
in Picenum (Ripatransone).18
The later Trestina complex19 confirms that this area, at the confluence of the
Nestore River and the Tiber, functioned as a crossroads. It contains some of the most
exported Etruscan materials in the Adriatic area in the Late Orientalizing period.
These include the “Rhodian” oinochoai (Campovalano, Montedinove, Annifo di
18 Lo Schiavo and Romualdi 2009, 151–57, nos. 1, 7–8, 10, 26–27. The fragment with embossed lions
n. 10, tav. XXXVI could perhaps be a part of the lid of a Vetulonian pyxis (e.g., Camporeale 2007, 4–6,
pl. Ia–b), rather than a small shield.
19 Lo Schiavo and Romualdi 2009, 19–141.

Fig. 50.3: Chiusi bronze-amphora from Pitino

di San Severino, Monte Penna, Tomb 14
(after Piceni, Popolo d’Europa, Rome 1999)
Foligno and Fabriano)20 and the amphorae with griffin-protome handles, which were
also found in Belmonte Piceno and Pitino di San Severino (Fig. 50.3), and attributed
to the late Orientalizing workshops of Chiusi,21 a center that played a major role in
relations with the Adriatic coast in this period.
2.2 The Adriatic coast
Contact with the opposite coast constituted the main cause of prosperity, since the
richest Picene burials of the Orientalizing period (Pitino, Fabriano and Matelica) are
located at strategic points that controlled east-west routes.
Since the second half of the eighth century, elements of Eastern traditions pene-
trated the Tyrrhenian area from the Adriatic coast through these routes,22 while Picene
centers received from Etruria weapons and bronze vessels, objects that were designed
to act as status symbols in the tombs of the emerging aristocracy. At Matelica, for
20 Shefton 2009; 2014

21 Lo Schiavo and Romualdi 2009, 63–66, nos. 38–42, figs. 20–21; Silvestrini and Sabbatini 2008,
149–50, no. 170 (Pitino); Bonomi Ponzi 2010, 170, fig. 13 (Terni).
22 Martelli 2007.

928 Marina Micozzi
Fig. 50.4: Silver comb fibula from Fabriano, S. Maria in Campo,

Tomb 3 (after Piceni, Popolo d’Europa, Rome 1999)
example, the shield from Tomb 77 Brecce is perhaps Veientan, and the bronze biconi-
cal vase from Passo Gabella is probably Vulcian.23 With regard to the eighth century,
the recent findings from Matelica show a decisive influence from Veii. This influence
was probably connected to relations between this southern Etruscan metropolis and
the Villanovan enclaves of Fermo and Verucchio, the last of which likely provided the
large quantity of amber (also in the form of the raw material) found in grave goods
from Veii and Latium (see chapters 46 Micozzi and 76 von Eles).
Relations were further strengthened during the seventh century, which gave an
undeniable Tyrrhenian imprint on the Picene Orientalizing period, despite the likely
presence of direct contacts with Greece and the East.24
The rising Picene classes assimilated a Tyrrhenian aristocratic lifestyle and
assumed its cultural models, like banquets with related accoutrements and the con-
stant deposition in tombs of status symbols like shields, scepters and weapons for
23 Silvestrini and Sabbatini 2008, 62 no. 11, 189–90 no. 229.

24 Rocco 1999, 117–25; Martelli 2007.

Fig. 50.5: Composite oinochoe from Pitino di San

Severino, Monte Penna, Tomb 14 (after Piceni,
Popolo d’Europa, Rome 1999)
parades, but especially the currus, which indicates an adherence to the heroic model
of war as an individual struggle.
Many of the luxury items found in the richest tombs came directly from Etruria. In
Tomb 3 of Santa Maria in Campo at Fabriano,25 a comb fibula (Fig. 50.4) and two
silver kotylai are probably Caeretan imports, like the five bronze ribbed paterae. On
the other hand, Vulci can be associated with the askos, the bronze biconical vase
and, likely, with the decorated ostrich egg, which was originally mounted as a refined
oinochoae. Similar oinochoai in mixed media were among the most appreciated valu-
ables in Picenum, as shown by the two other examples from Pitino (Fig. 50.5) and
Matelica.26
Bronze tripods of Etruscan manufacture appear in prestigious grave goods from
Matelica, Tolentino, Pitino and Cupra,27 often in association with several varieties
25 Sabbatini 2003; Silvestrini and Sabbatini 2008, 125–29 nos. 157–62.

26 See chapter 46 Micozzi. Most recently Martelli 2013.
27 Silvestrini and Sabbatini 2008, 95–96, with references.

930 Marina Micozzi
of situlae—including those of Kurd-type (Fabriano, Pitino, Matelica and Filottrano),

perhaps a Vetulonian imitation of the Hallstattian prototypes,28 and basins with
embossed rim29 that were probably made in Southern Etruria.
Southern Etruria can be linked to the above-mentioned bronze shields from Fabri-
ano, Pitino and Tolentino, which were considered status symbols and were therefore
present in female burial contexts, as also seen in the Tyrrhenian area.30 Among other
weapons, helmets with a composite calotte, which can be compared to an example
from the Tomb A of Casale Marittimo, and those with lateral knobs (Buckelhelme)
show a marked relationship with northern Etruria. The latter are attributable to Vetu-
lonia and northern Etruria in the early Orientalizing period and hereinafter are widely
attested through variants along the Adriatic coast.31 Sharing weapon-types is a qual-
ifying characteristic of the relations between Northern Etruria and Picenum in the
Orientalizing period, and likely implies some mobility on the part of warriors—and
of workers active in this field—on both coasts. The warrior of the Vetulonian Circle
of the Sphinxes, who wears the kardiophylax, a characteristic feature of the Picene
armour,32 may be an example of this trans-Appenine mobility, while the aforemen-
tioned Fabbrecce Tomb acts as an intermediary case.33
Especially in the first phase of the Orientalizing period, Verucchio, an Etruscan
frontier settlement in continuous contact with the Tyrrhenian,34 played an important
role in the transmission of cultural stimuli and Etruscan products in the Adriatic and
trans-Adriatic area (see chapter 76 von Eles). For example, the two Vetulonian tripods
from Lippi Tomb 8, of a type also found in Bologna, Este and Novo Mesto (Fig. 50.6),
suggest an alternative route for the arrival of this type of artifact in Slovenia (see
chapter 82 Tomedi). A variant of this type found at Oria in Apulia35 may confirm the
insertion of the tripods in a circum-Adriatic trade, of which Verucchio was one of the
main pillars.
In the ripe Orientalizing period, the vitality of the routes connecting the south-
ern Tiber Valley and Southern Etruria to Picenum is well attested by ceramic ware
that acquired forms, techniques and decorative motifs of Faliscan-Capenate origin.36
Picenum welcomed bronze workers from Southern Etruria who were skilled in toreu-
28 Silvestrini and Sabbatini 2008, 181–83 no. 220.

29 See, most recently: Lo Schiavo and Romualdi 2009, 71–74 no. 53 (R.M. Albanese Procelli).
30 Naso 2000, 104, 126, 113, 117. Tomb 17 of Pitino is certainly a woman’s grave (Silvestrini and
Sabbatini 2008, 143–44).
31 Egg 1999; Naso 2007; Silvestrini and Sabbatini 2008, 78–83 nos. 68, 75 (with composite calotte),
211–12 nos. 252–53 (Buckelhelme), with references.
32 Principi 2000, 234 no. 263.
33 Regarding this context in the relationship between the two sides, see Naso 2000, 168–79.
34 Martelli 2005.
35 De Juliis 2001, 262.
36 Stopponi 2003.

Fig. 50.6: Bronze tripod from Novo Mesto

(Slovenia) (photo A. Naso)
tics (as seen in the small bronze ciste with zoomorphic decoration from Matelica)37
and ivory work, an activity in which iconographic inspiration and stylistic inflections
of different origins can be found.38
2.3 The Northern Italy and Continental Europe
For most of the seventh century, before maritime trade reached the southern French
coast in the Late Orientalizing period, Etruscan relations with continental Europe
cannot be considered separately from Etruscan relations with the Venetic and Gola-
secca cultures (see chapter 81 Guggisberg), who controlled access roads to Alpine
passes. Etruscan goods found north of the Alps also correspond with those present
in these areas, which they likely reached by way of Etruscans of the Po Valley. Since
Villanovan times, Bologna was an important manufacturing center that maintained
close relations with northern cultures—reflected in its extensive and original craft
production—and was also the hub of a dense trade network involving products and
37 Silvestrini and Sabbatini 2008, 193–94 no. 232, 231–33 no. 307; Coen 2013, 210–12, figs. 2–3.
38 Rocco 1999; recently Silvestrini and Sabbatini 2008, 103–4 no. 121, 136–37 no. 169.

932 Marina Micozzi
cultural flux from the Italian peninsula northward and vice versa (see chapter 75
Malnati).
In the seventh century, the Hallstatt area established a stable social hierarchy;
grave goods in that period are particularly rich, ideologically modeled after those of
the central Italian elite (especially with regard to the banquet’s centrality and the fre-
quent presence of chariots), but rarely include imported objects. When grave goods
have been found that were imported, they consist mostly of Vetulonian bronzes, con-
centrated in eastern France and western Germany—to Appenwihr in Alsace (pyxis/
censer and ribbed bowl), Frankfurt-Stadtwald, Poiseul-la-Ville and Lyon (ribbed
bowls)39 (see chapter 83 Baitinger).
These prestigious objects moved within a narrow circuit of relations between
members of emerging elites. This is indicated by bronze vessels (especially situlae)40
and horse harnesses from Central Europe which were found in aristocratic tombs
in Este, Bologna, Vetulonia, Tarquinia, Bisenzio and Verucchio,41 and by the large
amounts of Baltic amber in Etruria. During the Early and Middle Orientalizing periods,
thanks to the reinforced connections with Bologna, Vetulonia assumed a major role
in relations with the Hallstatt area, from which it received products and, most likely,
artisans who were active in the thriving local bronze production (see chapter 46
Micozzi), which impartially furnished burials for Celtic princes and Greek sanctuar-
ies.42 In Hallstattian Europe, burial customs, techniques and ornamental repertoire—
particularly in metal working43—all document more intensive and continuous rela-
tions than appear from the scarcity of original Etruscan goods. The situation suggests
that people also moved northward, probably as a result of commercial interests that
are not archaeologically detectable.44
This phenomenon is particularly evident in the Eastern Hallstatt world, but it
amplifies a situation also found on the other side of the Alps.
Already in the eighth century, the territory of Venetic culture shows great open-
ness to the neighboring Villanovan area around Bologna, through which Tyrrhenian
cultural models and products were also transmitted.45 In the Orientalizing period,
the adoption of an aristocratic Etruscan lifestyle went hand in hand with the forma-
tion of a local aristocratic class that maintained relations with Etruria. Velutonia fur-
nished ornaments and precious bronzes intended for symposia, such as the tripod
39 Sciacca 2005, 378–79; Camporeale 2007, 7.

40 Camporeale 2007.
41 Martelli 2005, 320–25.
42 Especially Olympia and Samos: Naso 2006.
43 The chariots are particularly indicative of this case: Pare 1992 (see chapters 82 Tomedi and 83
Baitinger).
44 Camporeale 2007, 10–12.
45 Capuis 2001b; recent literature on the issue in Marzatico and Endrizzi 2009.

Fig. 50.7: Bronze bowl from the Tomba del Carrettino, Como
(after Camporeale 2001)
of Pelà Tomb 49 and a ribbed bowl of unknown provenance.46 Rather than through
the exchange of goods, however, these aristocratic relations are proven by the repro-
duction of funerary customs, like the sumptuous ornaments in female graves, and
references to the aristocratic ideals of the symposium, and those of hunting and war
in male graves. Examples of small figured votive bronzes from Lozzo and Verona indi-
cate that this confluence of styles was also caused by people moving from northern
Etruria.47 Artisans from that area certainly contributed to the formation of the com-
posite stylistic, figurative language of the so-called Situla Art.48
Even in the centers of Golasecca culture, in Lombardy and southern Piedmont, the
hierarchical structuring of society accelerated hand in hand with the wealth resulting
from the control of ancient trade routes going to the San Bernardino and Gotthard
crossings. This hierarchical organization manifested itself by the late eighth century
and over the course of the seventh with the emergence—first in Como’s necropolis—of
tombs of rank with goods imported from Central Italy, among which were the stamped
bronzes of Vetulonia, which evidently arrived via the Po Valley (Fig. 50.7).49 In the
46 Sciacca 2005, 378; Camporeale 2007, 12–13.

47 Maggiani 2000.
48 Capuis 2001a; see also Zaghetto 2006, with further literature.
49 de Marinis and Gambari 2005, 208–9; de Marinis 2008.

934 Marina Micozzi
seventh century, Tyrrhenian influences—including the acquisition of writing—seem

to have had preferential ties with centers of the western district, like Golasecca,
Sesto Calende and Castelletto Ticino. This phenomenon probably coincided with the
waning of Bologna’s intermediary role and the exploitation of an alternative route
from the Ligurian coast to the Apennine passes and beyond and as far as the Tanaro
River.50
During the seventh century, a number of ports on the Ligurian coast testify to
the new importance of maritime relations for the local people.51 The oldest such port
was certainly Chiavari, where the necropolis attests a particular facies of the Gola
secca culture, permeated by elements from northern Etruria. Local grave goods pre-
cociously receveid also southern Etruscan imports,52 perhaps through the same sea
route that led Greek and colonial ware to the Versilia (Tuscany) at San Rocchino and
Baccatoio di Pietrasanta.53
Beginning in the late seventh century, Genoa’s role became predominant, both
with regard to the amplitude of maritime contacts and to the control of important
routes to the hinterland.54
Along the northern border of Etruria, as in the southern and eastern borders, cul-
tural osmosis linked Versilia and Eastern Liguria, which created a sort of integrated
territorial compartment where Pisa’s hegemony gradually grew.55
2.4 Southern Italy and Sicily
Relations with the southernmost regions of the peninsula and Sicily were evidently
influenced by two main factors that affected these areas in antiquity: Greek coloniza-
tion and the presence of large Etruscanized areas in Campania (see chapters 73 Cin-
quantaquattro and Pellegrino, 74 Bellelli).
Relations with the oldest colonial settlements in Campania—and the decisive role
they had in the manifestation of the Orientalizing phenomenon—extend beyond the
limits of this chapter. It is clear, however, that these relations were not unilateral, as
demonstrated by Etruscan materials found in Pithecusan tombs, and in even greater
quantities in high-ranking tombs of Cumae. These grave goods attest to an inter-
ethnic solidarity between the ruling classes, expressed by shared tastes, values and
50 de Marinis 2008, 117–18, with bibliography.

51 Maggiani 2006.
52 Paltineri 2010, 323–25.
53 Bonamici 2006; Maggiani 2006.
54 Gambari 2004; Melli 2006.
55 Maggiani 2004; Paltineri 2010, with further bibliography.

Fig. 50.8: Heron plates from Eloro

(after Sicilia archeologica)

936 Marina Micozzi
status symbols, that were the primary cause of the contemporaneous diffusion of the
Orientalizing phase in the Italian peninsula.
Seventh century Etruscan artifacts have also emerged in those indigenous centers
of Campania, Basilicata and Puglia which already fostered close ties with the main
Greek poleis (see chapter 80 Tagliamonte). These include bronzes destined for sympo-
siums (ribbed bowls, basins, oinochoai),56 most likely distributed by—if not produced
in57—Etruscan towns in Campania. These were luxury gifts for local aristocracies that
do not pinpoint organized trade routes, but follow the ways of “gift-exchange,” a
practice whose economic implications are certain.
Etruscan interest in Sicily, on the other hand, was mainly due to its position along
trade routes with the Eastern Mediterranean and North Africa. The rare Etruscan arti-
facts present on the island between the late eighth and seventh centuries—mostly
pottery fragments (sub-geometric, impasto and bucchero ware) and a few bronze
bowls with beaded rims—are commonly considered goods brought by the Greeks and
Phoenicians returning from Etruria (see chapter 85 Albanese Procelli).58 Therefore,
artifacts of unmistakable Caeretan origin, like the plates with herons (in Syracuse,
Eloro and Gela) (Fig. 50.8), are of particularly importance. They were rarely exported
outside of the areas surrounding Veii and Caere, except to coastal sites (Ponteca
gnano and Sicily) that mark Caere’s early interest in long distance routes, which par-
tially corresponds with the one taken by Aristonothos from Greece to Caere in the mid
seventh century. This interest is confirmed by the strong Caeretan connotation of the
most ancient Etruscan artifacts found in North Africa (see chapter 88 Naso).59
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Europa, edited by M. Guštin, P. Ettel, and M. Buora, 21–28. Archeologia di frontiera, 6. Udine:
Società Friulana di Archeologia.
—. 2011. “Manufatti etruschi e italici nell’Africa settentrionale (IX–II sec. a.C).” In Corollari. Scritti di
antichità etrusche e italiche in omaggio all’opera di Giovanni Colonna, edited by D. F. Maras,
Paltineri, S. 2010. La necropoli di Chiavari. Scavi Lamboglia 1959–1969. Bordighera: Istituto Interna-
zionale di Studi Liguri.
Pare, Ch.F.E. 1992. Wagon and Wagon-Graves of the Early Iron Age in Central Europe. Oxford: Oxford
University Press.

Rizzo, M.A. 2006. “La tomba di Monte dell’Oro e l’orientalizzante ceretano.” In Archeologia in
Etruria meridionale. Atti delle giornate di studio in ricordo di Mario Moretti, Civita Castellana,
14–15.11.2003, edited by M. Pandolfini Angeletti, 371–417. Rome: L’Erma di Bretschneider.
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Sabbatini, T. 2003. “Le necropoli orientalizzanti di Fabriano.” In I Piceni e l’Italia medio-adriatica,
Atti del XXII Convegno di Studi Etruschi e Italici, Ascoli Piceno, Teramo-Ancona, 9.–13.4.2000,
181–210. Pisa-Rome: Istituti Editoriali e Poligrafici Internazionali.
Shefton, B.B. 2009. “Oinochoai and other Etruscan, Italic and Greek Vessels in Bronze from Trestina
and on the ‘Rhodian’ oinochoai’.” In I complessi archeologici di Trestina e Fabbrecce nel Museo
Archeologica di Firenze, edited by F. Lo Schiavo and A. Romualdi. MonAntLinc, serie miscellanea
12, 107–138. Rome: Accademia dei Lincei.
—. 2014. ”Bronze oinochoai from Trestina (Umbria). ‘Rhodian’, Laconian and italic. Reflection on
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Exhibition catalogue. Rome: L’Erma di Bretschneider.
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e orientalizzante in Italia, Atti del convegno, Verucchio 26–27.6.2002, edited by P. von Eles,

IV. Civilization
Archaic and Classical periods

Nigel Spivey and Maurizio Harari
51 Archaic and Late Archaic Art, 580–450 BCE
Abstract: Thanks to the influx of craftsmen from Ionia, the art of Etruria in the Archaic period was
shaped by a strong East Greek influence. The impact of both style and subject can be seen in black-
figure vases produced in Caere and Vulci, in the painted tombs of Tarquinia, and in funerary sculp-
ture at Chiusi and Vulci. By contrast, the use of terracotta in the design and decoration of temples in
archaic Etruria was a distinctive local development (NS).
The first fifty years of the fifth century began what has been described as an “age of crisis,” which
affected not just Etruscan civilization but all the pre-Roman groups of Italy. This period is referred to
as a crisis because of political and social instability (the West was also marked by the great conflict
between the Greeks and the barbarians, and Rome itself dramatically experienced strong class ten-
sions) and, regarding the archaeological record, because of the scarcity of burials. The lack of burial
evidence makes it problematic for us to define clear chronological phases, and this scarcity is at least
partly attributable to rules against luxury, such as those included in the Roman laws of the Twelve
Tables.
The naval battle of Cumae (474), when for the first time an Etruscan fleet (supposedly from Caere)
was unequivocally and irrevocably defeated by the Greeks (from Syracuse), seemed to the ancient
historical tradition (Diod. Sic. 11.51)—as well as to many modern commentators—to mark the end of an
Etruscan thalassocracy on the northern Tyrrhenian Sea. Over time, one of the consequences of these
events—a consequence that cannot be detected in the archaeological record prior to the final decades
of the century—was a clear decrease in the distribution of Attic pottery to the coastal towns of south-
ern Etruria and, more generally, their marked economic decline in this period, whereas the northern
and inland areas flourished as far as the Adriatic ports of the Po Valley.
Therefore, when we speak of a crisis in the fifth century, we must clearly distinguish the second
half of the century from the first. We should also always be aware of the contexts of particular exam-
ples: although Caere or Vulci seem, to some extent, to have been declining, other places, with differ-
ent modalities, in areas such as the Tiber Valley (from Chiusi to Orvieto) and the Po Valley (Spina and
other cities) were growing (MH).
Keywords: Funerary painting, funerary sculpture, architecture, Micali Painter
1 Archaic Art, 580–500

Nigel Spivey
1.1 Introduction
For modern viewers, the art of Etruria in the Archaic period often serves to epito-
mize Etruscan cultural identity as a whole. Some of the best-known wall paintings at
Tarquinia—the Tomb of the Augurs (Tomba degli Auguri), the Tomb of Hunting and
Fishing (Tomba della Caccia e Pesca), the Tomb of the Bulls (Tomba dei Tori)—belong
944 Nigel Spivey and Maurizio Harari
Fig. 51.1: Apollo of Veii, c. 510 BCE. Rome,

Villa Giulia Museum (Photo SAR-Laz)
to this period; so too such “iconic” terracotta sculptures as the “Sarcophagus of the
Married Couple”, from Cerveteri, and the “Apollo of Veii”. Indeed, it was a cardinal
moment in the modern reception of the Etruscans when in May 1916, the latter figure
was recovered, almost intact, from the site of the Portonaccio sanctuary at Veii. It was
a statue whose fluid confidence of posture and presence was coincidentally attuned
to a burgeoning twentieth-century preference for the relatively simple lines and forms
of “primitive,” pre-Classical art (Fig. 51.1).
And yet archaic Etruscan art is a hybrid creation. Its patrons, we have no doubt,
were the ruling families of more or less urbanized settlements throughout Etruria, but
particularly along the Tyrrhenian coastline. The artists, however, are not so readily
identified, either by their social status or by their ethnic type. If features of style and
technique equate to signatures, then it would appear that much of the imagery we
have recovered from archaic Etruria was produced by Greeks—and more specifically,
by Greeks from the region once known as Ionia. Before we describe any of these
images, it is necessary to sketch the background of geopolitical change across the
Mediterranean during the sixth century BCE.
People speaking the Ionic dialect of Greek had established themselves on the
shores of Asia Minor during the flux of migrations in the late Bronze and early Iron

51 Archaic and Late Archaic Art, 580–450 BCE 945
Fig. 51.2: Detail of a late sixth-century BCE

marble sarcophagus found at Gümüscay,
in western Turkey. Çannakale Museum
(Photo N. Spivey)
Age. Linguistically, these people related to Greeks in Attica, Euboea, and the Cyclades;
culturally, their center was the island of Delos, sacred to Apollo. During the eighth and
seventh centuries, this area gave rise not only to the epic tradition of Greek literature
(including the works of Homer), but also Greek literacy, and the Greek philosophical
venture of rational enquiry. But Ionia was dangerously close to the expanding Persian
empire. The reign of Cyrus the Great (559–529) extended Persian power as far as the
Hellespont; almost a century of outright Greek-Persian hostilities ensued, as we know
from the narratives of the Ionian Herodotus.
Persian conquest was not the end of Greek presence in Asia Minor—as long as
regular tributes were collected, Persian royalty was content to delegate authority—
but Herodotus plausibly reports waves of emigration westwards, for example, from
Phocaea, when besieged by the Persians in 540. To visit Phocaea today (Turkish
Foça, to the north of Izmir) is to find a somewhat desolate former fishing village,
with scarcely any ancient ruins. Its ancient inhabitants, however, were dynamic sea-
farers—the original colonists of Marseilles (Massalia), and pioneers of Greek trade
with Corsica and the Iberian Peninsula—even before the Persians arrived. Herodo-
tus (1.165–6) mentions an unhappy episode of rough justice between Phocaeans and
Etruscans on the shore of Agylla, the port of Cerveteri (Caere). But this cannot typify

Fig. 51.3: Detail of the so-called “Boccanera slabs”—painted terracotta plaques from the Banditaccia
cemetery, Cerveteri. Mid sixth century BCE. London, British Museum (Photo N. Spivey)
the historical process of the Archaic period. Greeks from Ionia appear to have been
welcomed in Etruria; or, to put it another way, they seem at least to have left their
mark as émigré artisans.1
The East Greek style is typified by a detail of a sarcophagus found in the Troad
region in 1994 ((Fig. 51.2). A woman makes a gesture evident of grief and shock,
raising her arms to her head. The mix of frontal and sideways view is characteristic of
archaic art; more specific to the region, however, are the features of the face, with its
“flying profile” of forehead and nose, lips curved as if in a smile, and slanting, front-
on eyes. Compare this figure with a trio of females depicted upon a set of terracotta
slabs from Cerveteri (Fig. 51.3). They may belong, as it were, to the same world. A
scene of the sacrifice of Polyxena, and perhaps the Judgment of Paris—the subjects of
the sarcophagus relief and the painted plaques respectively appear to include narra-
tives that relate to Greek mythology, in particular to the epic cycle connected with the
Trojan War. Their kinship of style, however, suggests more than just a shared stock of
stories. A diaspora of artistic talent is implied.2
1 Cristofani 1976; Spivey 1997, 53–76; Bellelli 2004.

2 Gilotta 1998; Roncalli 2006.

1.2 Painting and sculpture
Among the East Greek artists who seem to have settled in south Etruria during the
Archaic period are the painters (arguably a pair) who produced the so-called “Caere-
tan hydriai,” a series of lively black-figure vessels that represent a variety of generic
and mythological scenes.3 Such vases supplied the needs of Etruscan aristocrats
conducting the formalities of communal drinking, and may have complemented the
rhapsodic entertainment offered at such occasions. Were poems about the wrath of
Achilles or the labors of Herakles sung in Etruscan? While we lack substantial evi-
dence for that process of literary translation and adoption, the iconographic record
points to a process of creative fusion by both indigenous and immigrant artists. It is
most telling in the development of subterranean wall-painting, as preserved by the
funerary customs at certain Etruscan centers—particularly Tarquinia, where a small
but significant proportion (estimated at 2–3 percent) of the city’s rock-carved tombs
were layered on the interior with a light plaster and then painted.
Structurally, these tombs appear imitative of domestic architecture, with door-
ways, couches, and mock tectonic features such as beams and sloped roofs. It is not
clear, however, how far their decoration mirrors the interior of houses, “palatial” as
they might have been. Elements of the imagery—for example, checkered patterns
across a ceiling—suggest the influence or model of textile hangings. It may be that
certain paintings evoke tents and parasols, perhaps temporarily erected for funer-
ary or other ceremonies. There are also references to landscape and views of outdoor
activity, for example, in the Tomb of Hunting and Fishing which depicts a charm-
ingly out-of-scale idyll showing several youths fishing at sea, while another shoots
at birds with a sling. The cultural milieu of the period extends beyond Etruria, and
beyond Italy. Prominent on the far wall of the Tomb of the Bulls is a scene that can
only be explained by “insider knowledge” of epic poetry from east Greece. It repre-
sents a subplot of the war at Troy, as the young Trojan prince Troilus steers his horse
towards a fountain, where Achilles is lurking with murderous intent. An erotic twist
to that story—according to one version, Troilus and Achilles were lovers—may help
to explain the images of copulation painted in the register above.4
It is natural enough to search the imagery of these tombs for clues to Etruscan
beliefs about the afterlife. By scholarly tradition, the paintings that belong to the
Archaic period are broadly characterized by their celebratory—even cheerful—aspect.
The demons and stricken victims represented in later tomb-paintings (see chapter 63
Gilotta) are absent; instead, scenes of feasting, dancing, athletics and other games
prevail. Whether such pictures reflect the “lifestyle” of the deceased, the occasion of
3 Hemelrijk 2009, with previous literature.

4 On this and similar problems of interpreting the archaic Tarquinian tomb paintings, see d’Agostino
and Cerchiai 1999.

a funeral, or the imagined bliss of some posthumous existence, they appear equally
charged with vital energy, a gift to those moderns (e.g., notoriously, D.H. Lawrence)
who would romanticize the Etruscans. Conventions of style play their part in giving
this impression—parallels, then, for an exaggerated arm and leg postures of revelers
shown on the “Fikellura” painted pottery from Ionia—but we should absorb signifi-
cant aspects of scene-setting here. Specific allusions are made to the formalities of
ceremonial drinking, such as the capacious bowl for the mixing of wine and water,
garlanded with foliage appropriate to the god Dionysos, and the proper jug (oinochoe)
for pouring the diluted wine; also to the lyre—the kithara, equally suitable for accom-
paniment to poetic recitation as to dancing—and the double-pipe (Colour plates
27–29). It is likely, in view of such formalities, that artists from the eastern Mediter-
ranean offered fresh modes of imaginative expression to local funerary customs. If,
as we presume, the tomb paintings relate essentially to the institution of worshipping
family ancestors, then it would be plausible to invoke not only Dionysiac or Orphic
beliefs about rebirth and renewal, but also the cult of heroes. So the pseudo-regal
splendor of a reclining male figure conspicuous in the same tomb (Colour plate 30)
probably signifies the deceased as an aggrandized person due familial veneration; it
is tempting to suppose that the way in which he is shown holding an egg has, in this
context, some mystic importance.
Even with the benefit of literary sources from Greece and Rome—some of them
alluding directly to the Etruscans—it remains difficult to expand on such vague
interpretative phrases as “some mystic importance.” Evidence from the post-Archaic
period indicates that the cult of Dionysos (“Bacchus” to the Romans; “Fufluns” in
Etruscan), diffused from the eastern Mediterranean, was widely established in Italy.
But its attendant beliefs about the afterlife, and those entailed by the related cult
of Orpheus, are necessarily obscure, for these were “mystery religions” whose initi-
ates kept to measures of secrecy. So we are left to make rather bland observations
about the imagery of these archaic paintings, and rely upon comparative references
for comprehension. In the Tomb of the Augurs, we interpret as an augur or haruspex
one bearded figure carrying a curved staff, possibly gesturing towards birds in flight;
close by are two hefty wrestlers, presumably contending for metal cauldrons as prizes
at funerary games. Then comes a masked figure that appears to be goading a leashed
mastiff to attack a man armed with a club, yet hampered by a sack over his head
(Colour plates 17–19). Since ancient authors suggest that gladiatorial combat had its
origin in Etruscan funeral ceremonies, we speculate that some form of scapegoat pun-
ishment is being depicted here.5
Funerary sculpture of the Archaic period shares features of style and subject with
the tomb paintings. Around the middle of the sixth century, the production of relief-
5 Szilágyi 1981. The figure is labelled (in retrograde) Phersu, a name perhaps connected to the Latin
term persona, originally denoting the use of a mask for theatrical characterization.

Fig. 51.4: Detail of the “Sarcophagus of the Married Couple” from Cerveteri, late sixth century BCE.
Rome, Villa Giulia Museum (Photo SAR-Laz)
carved sarcophagi began at Chiusi, and images on these limestone containers repeat-
edly evoke the practice or pretensions of aristocratic/heroic feasting, chariot racing,
and so on.6 Further south, sculptural elaboration of sarcophagus lids took new forms.
Only intuition tells us that the couple represented on the lid of a famous Caeretan sar-
cophagus are conjugal, but their rendition is certainly harmonious, and the sculptor
has succeeded in modeling the pair so that their bodies merge convincingly as if on
a banqueting couch, even though the position of the bodies, and their relative scale,
defies the laws of nature (Fig. 51.4). Similar (and less accomplished) pieces indicate
that both figures originally held separately fashioned objects—the male perhaps an
egg, his partner perhaps a small flask and a pomegranate.
Finished with paint, the medium of terracotta for life-sized or near-life-sized
statuary was one that became something of a regional specialty during the sixth
century. Soft volcanic stone was also exploited, as testified by a series of figures from
the cemeteries at Vulci and elsewhere inland.7 These appear to have been placed as
markers to tombs, and their range includes types appropriate as sentinels: sphinxes,
6 Jannot 1984.
7 Martelli 1988.

Fig. 51.5: Nenfro figure of boy astride a hippocamp, from Vulci,

c. 520 BCE. Rome, Villa Giulia Museum (Photo SAR-Laz)
rams, and big cats. More unusual, the image of a boy astride a hippocamp (Fig. 51.5)
may demand a more committed symbolic interpretation. Does it represent the journey
from this world to the next?
Tombs were, of course, furnished with items once held precious in life, and
conceivably deemed useful in death. Many of these items may have been made of
metal—jewelry, weapons, vessels and utensils—of which most have not survived
depredation; a considerable quantity was made up of imported objets d’art. The fact
that thousands upon thousands of painted vases survive from ancient Greece, mainly
Athens, is directly accounted for by the collecting habits of Etruscans. Often deco-
rated (and inscribed) to encourage the recall of Homer and other sources of Greek
mythology and cosmology, these vases demanded some erudition from their owners.
Some comparable scenes of myth were attempted by local practitioners of the pot-
ter’s art, but generally Etruscan vase-painters were content to produce images loosely
associated with Dionysiac cult. The beginning of the Archaic period saw an end to
the influence of Corinthian style on Etruscan pottery, and the development of certain
local, even individualized styles. One sixth-century artist identified by the process of
attribution is the so-called Micali Painter, probably based at Vulci. Seemingly illiter-
ate, his output is stocked with a variety of fantastic creatures—sirens, sphinxes, cen-
taurs, satyrs and so on—but he also produced scenes that may be derived from local
festivals. A vigorous vignette of two pairs of dancers shaking to the sound of their

Fig. 51.6: Details of a black-figure amphora attributed to the Micali Painter, from Vulci, c. 520 BCE.
London, British Museum (Photo N. Spivey)
castanets (Fig. 51.6) suggests direct observation, though we may note the abbreviated
foreheads and mixed frontal/sideways view characteristic of Ionic influence.8
1.3 Architecture
It is on the large scale, however, that art most conspicuously flourished in sixth-cen-
tury Etruria, for, as in Greece, this was a period of monumental development in cities
and their sanctuaries. Oligarchic or tyrannical constitutions required grandiose resi-
dences and meeting-places for the ruling elite, while sanctuaries competed one with
another to attract pilgrims and dedications. And where rulers assumed their right to
rule as divinely given, the distinction between grandiose residence, meeting place
and temple might consequently have become hard to draw. Such is the categorical
problem left by the site of Murlo (Poggio Civitate), in the Tuscan hills. Archaeologi-
cally, Murlo is unusual insofar as it was abandoned already by the end of the sixth
century, and left undisturbed until modern times. This ought to favor the archaeolo-
gists, but defining the purpose of structures brought to light at Murlo is a challenge.
The principal building was an ample, partly colonnaded courtyard enclosure, whose
8 Spivey 1987; Rizzo 1988.

Fig. 51.7: Reconstruction of the Portonaccio temple at Veii (c. 510 BCE). (After NS 1953)
rooftops were decorated with a variety of akroterial terracotta statues, including some
enthroned figures with extravagant wide-brimmed headgear, and a large sphinx.
Along the interior wall of this enclosure ran a series of terracotta friezes, with relief
representations of activities that seem descriptive of elite status, including banquets,
music, hunting and equestrian displays, processions and prize items. But the friezes
may also show some sort of assembly of deities. Generically such friezes are known to
have been suitable for display on temples, not only at other Etruscan, but also various
central Italian sites. So while the layout of the court building at Murlo may be sup-
posed a “palace,” its decoration indicates a religious function as well.9
The design of temples in archaic Etruria became sufficiently distinctive, such
that it was eventually recognized by a Roman architectural historian (Vitruvius) as a
“Tuscan order.” Simple and non-canonical by comparison to the Greek Doric order,
with unfluted columns rather obviously (for Vitruvius) derived from tree trunks, it
gave temples a quadrangular aspect, the approach marked by steps up to a porti-
coed porch, beyond which were three doors leading to a triple-chambered cella. The
Romans understood that artists from “all over Etruria” came together to create the
archetypal temple on Rome’s Capitoline hill, dedicated to the “Capitoline triad,”
Jupiter, Juno and Minerva, as enshrined during the century or so that the Etruscan
dynasty of the Tarquins ruled at Rome (around 616–509). Central to “the great Rome
of the Tarquins,” la grande Roma dei Tarquinii, this temple hosted three leading
deities of the Greek pantheon—Zeus, Hera, and Athena—by way of their Etruscan
equivalents, Tinia, Uni, Menerva. It overlooked a forum-area first paved during the
same period of Etruscan rule, and the Tarquins appear to have sponsored other areas
of monumental development, notably, the sanctuary of Sant’Omobono by the banks
of the Tiber.
9 Turfa and Steinmayer 2002, with previous literature.

But the prime example of Etruscan sacred architecture in the Archaic period is
the Portonaccio temple at Veii. Reconstructed as it probably appeared in around 510
(Fig. 51.7), the edifice could never have been mistaken for a Greek temple, and yet
its decoration cannot be understood without the framework of Greek theology and
mythology. The roof was set at a low sloping angle, making it almost impossible to
place any sculptural decoration in the pediments. As if by way of compensation, large
saddle tiles were placed over the central ridge-pole, to carry “life-sized” terracotta
figures of supernatural beings: Apollo, Hermes, Herakles and (probably) Apollo’s
mother Leto, nursing her infant son.10 Dedications associated with the altar of the
temple suggest that the presiding deity was Menevra-Athena, in her warlike aspect;
we cannot be sure how the figures on the rooftop—best appreciated by viewers
approaching laterally—composed a narrative relative to the cult practice here. But
the statues played out a tableau whose backdrop was the heavens—an installation
eminently suited to the subject, and perfectly placed to display the virtues of Etrusco-
Ionic style: fluency, grace, and simplicity of line.
2 Late Archaic art, 500–450

Maurizio Harari  
2.1 Introduction: the so-called crisis of the fifth century
The first fifty years of the fifth century began what has been described as an “age of
crisis,” which affected not just Etruscan civilization but all the pre-Roman groups of
Italy.11 This period is referred to as a crisis because of political and social instability
(the West was also marked by the great conflict between the Greeks and the barbar-
ians, and Rome itself dramatically experienced strong class tensions) and, regard-
ing the archaeological record, because of the scarcity of burials. The lack of burial
evidence makes it problematic for us to define clear chronological phases, and this
scarcity is at least partly attributable to rules against luxury, such as those included
in the Roman laws of the Twelve Tables.12
The naval battle of Cumae (474), when for the first time an Etruscan fleet (sup-
posedly from Caere) was unequivocally and irrevocably defeated by the Greeks (from
Syracuse), seemed to the ancient historical tradition (Diod. Sic. 11.51)—as well as
10 Maras 2010, with previous literature.

11 Pallottino 1984, 115–50; Rome 1990.
12 Colonna 1977, 158–61.

to many modern commentators—to mark the end of an Etruscan thalassocracy on

the northern Tyrrhenian Sea. Over time, one of the consequences of these events—a
consequence that cannot be detected in the archaeological record prior to the final
decades of the century—was a clear decrease in the distribution of Attic pottery to the
coastal towns of southern Etruria and, more generally, their marked economic decline
in this period, whereas the northern and inland areas flourished as far as the Adriatic
ports of the Po Valley.13
Therefore, when we speak of a crisis in the fifth century, we must clearly distin-
guish the second half of the century from the first. We should also always be aware
of the contexts of particular examples: although Caere or Vulci seem, to some extent,
to have been declining, other places, with different modalities, in areas such as the
Tiber Valley (from Chiusi to Orvieto) and the Po Valley (Spina and other cities) were
growing.
Concerning the years 500–450, any attempt to reconstruct a historical and artis-
tic summary has to engage with a reality which, in the terminology of Greek styles,
oscillates between the “Archaic” and “Classical” but cannot comfortably be associ-
ated with the term “Severe,” which should indicate just this moment of transition.
Otto Brendel preferred to speak of a “Late Archaic” period (instead of Early Classical)
to characterize the years 500–470, in order to emphasize what we may refer to as a
development syncope in which the Etruscan artistic language incorporated some of
the new ideas of Early Classical Greek art but never completely abandoned its Archaic
traditions.14
At the beginning of the fifth century, if we look at the central places of Greek inno-
vation, the peripheral nature of Etrurian art can be described as becoming increas-
ingly detached from the figural tradition of East Greece—including areas such as
Phocaea, Miletus, and Samos—which until that time had been sufficient for express-
ing the luxury and elegance of the local aristocracy. From 500 onward, however, and
in terms of sources of inspiration for the iconographic and stylistic choices, the cité
des images was Athens,15 a shift which is evidenced by the presence of Attic red-fig-
ure pottery on the Etruscan market, which was so appreciated and so systematically
spread that it came to constitute a kind of monopoly.
It remains the case, however, that we cannot know with any certainty the precise
nature of the goods traded and exported to Greece—in all probability metals and
grains—or the nationality of the marine traders. It seems that these people were not
necessarily always Athenians, as is suggested by the case of Sostratus, the ship owner
from Aegina who is mentioned by Herodotus (4.152) and was the author of the famous
13 Pallottino 1984, 132–40.

14 Brendel 1995, 111–17, 255–61.
15 Pontrandolfo 1984.

votive dedicatory inscription of an anchor at Graviscae (Fig. 35.12).16 It has been recog-
nized that commercial activities originating in Aegina played a significant role in the
framework of Etruscan Italy between the sixth and fifth centuries also on the Adriatic
coast, in the two ports of the Po delta (Adria and Spina); and a possible influence of
the prestigious Aeginetan school of sculpture has been cautiously suggested for some
bronze figurines produced in the workshops of northern Etruria and the Po Valley.17
Although it is obviously not possible for us to know the identity of the protagonists
involved in these exchanges, it is important for art historians to recognize and con-
sider the eminently pottery-based transmission of the models. As Brendel remarked,
it is very difficult for us to understand how it would be possible for the great Attic or
Argive bronzes to have reached Tyrrhenian Italy.18 This means that the local artists—
except in the rare cases where they may have had some international training or may
have travelled to Greece—would not always have been able to follow and so imitate
the latest developments in Greek sculpture. Therefore, we have to assume that their
knowledge of such pieces (which they would not have been able to analyse directly
via observation of the original works) could have come almost exclusively through
their translation in paintings or, simplified, through their representations on vases.
As a result, the Attic red-figure pottery of the period immediately after Euphronios
(with the products of the Sub-Archaic and Severe masters, which are well attested
in funerary furnishings of southern Etruria) must be considered the basic reference
points for a correct historical interpretation of Etruscan art in the first half of the fifth
century.
A parallel from the study of the indigenous pottery production confirms this
assumption. In the Vulci series—which starts with the Micali Painter and his pupils
(in black figures), continues with the Group of Praxias (decorated in superposed
color), and concludes with the beginning of new workshops in the Tiber Valley (both
in superposed color and in red-figure)—it is possible to observe a unique continuum
which is characterized by an ever-increasing dependence on and imitation of Attic
models.19
2.2 Painting
Within the context of the major arts, the effects of the dynamic role of Attic pottery
production can be most clearly recognized in the wall paintings of the tombs of the
Tarquinia elite which—despite the crisis—make a continuous, consistent series of
16 Editio princeps: Torelli 1971, 55–60, fig. 7.

17 Harari 2002, 21–22, fig. 1.
18 Brendel 1995, 258.
19 Scarrone 2015.

monuments, as is unusual in Etruria. The primary effect of this Attic influence is

iconographic, but it influences organization of the thematic choices and their rela-
tionship with the architectural (and symbolic) space of the burial chamber. The Greek
symposion, where guests had to drink mixed—never unmixed—wine while reclin-
ing on klinai, had been seen for more than a century and a half as indicative of high
manners, and as an appropriate lifestyle for the aristocracy, and so was used as the
main subject of Etruscan painting. Such drinking scenes are represented on the side
walls as well as on the back wall and in the main spaces as much as in the pseudo-
tympanum.
We may consider the case of the tomba delle Bighe (Tomb of the Chariots), which
dates to around 490 or shortly thereafter.20 In this case the simplified and amplified
image of a pair of symposiasts, placed either side of the krater, and the two paides
who serve them, are accompanied within the back tympanum by the sequence of
three klinai in the corresponding lower register and by a kylikeion (cupboard) which
borders in the right wall. The Greek symposion, evoked here by constant and insist-
ent references to schemata widely depicted on Attic pottery in the late sixth and early
fifth century, is not, however, represented as a realistic description of an actual cer-
emonial event, which may also be said of the dance scenes played out among slender
trees and depicted on the side walls. The function of these images is symbolic. They
are indirect replacements for those who are no longer visibly present (the deceased),
and are visual markers of their social prestige. The same can be said about the lower
frieze depicting athla (exercises of fighting and boxing, gymnasium scenes, a parade
of chariots) attended by spectators arranged in two levels on little stands. Even
though the scene is contaminated by the presence of jugglers and pantomime figures
according to local tastes, these are, in fact, images of Greek athletic paideia. In the
same sense, the ostentatious displays of pederastic affections located in the lowest
rank of the stands originate from the educational models present in Athenian society
and follow well-known models of Attic vase-painting dated to the beginning of the
century.
A second aspect of this process of Attic influence, recognizable on a stylistic level,
is clearly illustrated by the paintings at the Tomb of the Chariots, where all the char-
acters, as has been very well said, “seem to come from the album of an Attic vase
painter of the first two decades of the century, from the Painter of Kleophrades to
Makron, from the Berlin Painter to Brygos.”21 In particular, in the case of the small
frieze of athla, the joyous display of cleverly varied and overlapping anatomical
images, created by the Etruscan author of the fresco would have required a careful
and updated study of Athenian vase painting.
20 Steingräber 1984, no. 47.

21 Roncalli 2000, 360.

The Tomba del Triclinio (Tomb of the Triclinium),22 although slightly more recent,
already shows a clearly perceptible trend toward a mannerist standardization of this
iconographical system, which is quite elegantly executed, but without the same sense
of enthusiasm or experimentation (Colour plate 39). On the sides, again, young men
and women play and dance in a grove, and on the back wall is the banquet scene
(depicting two married couples in profile on their klinai, with a third bed askew),
which is dominated in the tympanum by a striking trophy of corymbs (clusters of
berries typical of ivy) and ivy which seems to be growing between two half-reclining
young men and exuberantly intruding into the space of the pseudo-ridgepole. On the
entrance wall, an ivy branch is depicted between two panthers—a revival of a typical
iconographic motif of the previous century—while at the sides of the door two young
men dismount a horse.23
The long discussion on the significance of the Tarquinian paintings—as realistic
rather than eschatological, or vice versa—has now given way to other, more convinc-
ing, functional readings of visual pathways within these highly symbolic areas, such
as tombs24. It has become clear that, throughout the first half of the fifth century, and
shortly thereafter, the burial chamber came to be conceived as an intermediate space
between life and death. Such sites certainly represented the location of the physical
remains of the dead, of his grave goods, and of ritual actions as well as the offerings
of the survivors, but they were separated from the proper Hereafter, which remained
unreachable by the living persons, behind the rocky diaphragm of the back wall. As
a consequence, the only truly eschatological images were confined to the back tym-
panum; the function of all the other images was to depict qualifying moments in the
existence of the aristoi.
The Tomba della Nave (Tomb of the Ship) (Fig. 51.8)25, dated to around the mid
fifth century or shortly thereafter, is particularly problematic, since at this site, one
of the characters of the symposium who is standing next to the kylikeion turns to look
at a seascape—in which a large freighter, followed by lesser vessels, turns toward an
impressive cliff—and raises his right arm as if he were signaling something to the
sailors. This is a unique iconography and, as such, can be interpreted in several dif-
ferent ways.
We could certainly suggest a biographical explanation and imagine that the
economic and social fortune of the gens who owns the tomb was tied to maritime

23 Gk. apobatai, perhaps: equestrians who perform stunts.
24 Roncalli 1997; Torelli 1997, 122–51. More recently, the effectiveness of a comparable symbolic
reading of partitions of space has also been proved by Govi (2010) for the bas-relief friezes on the
Bologna funerary steles.

Fig. 51.8: Tarquinia, Tomb of the Ship, detail of the paintings: a seascape and three men standing
close to a sideboard (drawing from Colonna 2003, 66, fig. 3).
trade. (This might be the case with the more ancient Tomba della Caccia e della Pesca,
tomb of Hunting and Fishing, datable around 53026, where the scenes of fishing and
fowling may well have alluded to the so-called economy of the swamp27 that provided
income on large rural estates.) (Colour plates 21–26) It is more likely, however, that the
unusual seascape is an indication of the beginning of a process whereby the pictorial
system of the tombs at Tarquinia was being restructured so as to give space to dis-
plays of otherworldly journeys, something that increasingly imitated representations
in Greek culture sources (including literature). In this case, the ship would bring the
dead to a place of happiness, expressed by the symposium of the ancestors, beyond
the rocks of the metaphorical wreck.28
Two successive examples of this process of iconographic transformation can be
seen. The first is from the beginning of the second half of the century, in the deso-
late and rocky landscape depicted in front of Charon’s ferry on the right wall of the
Tomba dei Demoni Azzurri (Tomb of the Blue Demons) (Fig. 57.8).29 The second, from
around 400, is in the representation of the cavalcade of the dead (derived from the
most famous depiction of a cavalcade, that of the Parthenon), who are heading to the
very distant land of the Pygmies (the Pygmies are painted on the left wall and give
their name to the tomb),30 who are incessantly and bloodily fighting with the cranes.
The enduring vitality of the Tarquinia School of painting during the fifth century
is also illustrated by the extent to which it was appreciated beyond the local area. This
broad appeal is proved by the imitation of the same iconographic and stylistic formu-

27 See Traina 1988.
28 Colonna 2003.
29 Naso 2005, 48–51.
30 Harari 2005, 79–82.

las in the paintings of the Chiusi Tomba della Scimmia (Tomb of the Monkey)31 as well
as at Colle Casuccini,32 which can be traced, for example, to the Tombs of the Chariots
and the Triclinium. One may well accept the idea that the builders of the Chiusi tombs
were from Chiusi, but the position of Tarquinia as a model is obvious, and the trans-
plantation of this purely southern Etruscan tradition of tombs of prestige to the Val
di Chiana area is a sign of economic growth among the northern aristoi which led, in
a few decades, to a marked geographical shift of new artistic ventures to the North.
2.3. Sculpture and architecture
We now consider sculptural production and discuss a series of monuments that differ
in terms of materials and techniques.
We begin with marble works, because of their rarity. Produced at least thirty years
after the problematic so-called Venus of Cannicella from Orvieto (Fig. 18.6),33 the head
of a kouros in the Lorenzini collection of Volterra (490–480),34 which was carved in
a type of local marble (It. grechetto) (Fig. 51.9), shows some persistent features of the
Ionicizing koine (almond-shaped eyes, here extraordinarily dilated; Archaic stretch-
ing of the corners of the mouth) covering quite a solid structure in the Severe style.
This is what differentiates this Volterra kouros from the few earlier example from
Marzabotto.35 The Marzabotto piece, which seems to have belonged to a votive statue
(or a simulacrum, a statue of a deity) related to the temple of Tina,36 is stylistically
more consistent but at the same time less expressive and is generally considered a
Cycladic import.
It was much more common, however, for sculptures to be made from a soft mate-
rial that was easier to work, as was normally the case in Etruria. The Chiusi workshops,
for example, had produced funerary cippi and urns by pietra fetida which, in the late
sixth century, were remarkably faithful to northern Ionian models.37 The celebrated
warrior’s sarcophagus from the Sperandio necropolis near Perugia (Fig. 51.10)38 rep-
resents a unique case of adjustment of this typically Clusian production to the inhu-
mation rite. The relief, on its long side, displays a complex and novel processional
sequence, variously interpreted as an image of the migration of a clan, a victorious

33 Bonamici 2012, 322.
34 Cristofani 1979.
35 Bentz and Reusser 2008, 112–14, figs. 62 a–d.
36 Sassatelli and Govi 2005, 38; Sassatelli 2009, 327.
37 Jannot 1984.
38 Jannot 1984, 42–44 no. 1

Fig. 51.9: Marble head of a kouros.

Volterra, Lorenzini collection
(photo SAT)
return (with war booty and prisoners), or a solemn sacrificial procession. We should
stress that its author consciously chose to narrate a theme—and we are very tempted
to say that this theme was historical, recalling that this is one of the key aspects of the
Etruscan heritage in Roman art—and he was able to do this successfully by iconic and
morphological means of East-Greek origin.
Among the sixth century precedents, we should mention also the so-called
Pluto of Palermo (about 540) (Fig. 51.11), an impressive funerary statue conceived as
a gigantic canopic urn, reshaped from the model of the heavy, imperious statuary
type of the Branchidae, the priests of Miletus39. This true masterpiece belonged to
a context of works promoting individual grandeur and power, a concept soon to be
expressed in political institutions through the charismatic and not entirely legendary
figure of King Porsena.
However, production of these funerary statues did not cease with the fall of the
monarchy, but was revived in the fifth century, and as such, they enjoyed a certain
degree of continuity as a series.40 Production limited almost exclusively to Chiusi
and the surrounding areas, in line with a sense of religious conservatism that even
39 Cristofani 1975, 49–50, fig. 102; Donati 2007.

40 Cristofani 1975; Bruni 2000, 384 and figs. at 377–79.

Fig. 51.10: Sarcophagus from the Sperandio necropolis. Perugia, Archaeological Museum
(Jannot 1984, fig. 158)
included a survival of the protohistoric rite of cremation. This occurred around the
middle of the fifth century and clearly reveals the use of a formal language that can be
identified with the so-called Severe style, which had enjoyed recent successes even in

Fig. 51.11: Male funerary statue from Chiusi, the so-called Pluto.
Palermo, Archaeological Museum (photo M. Harari)
the colonies of the West, although the key iconographic influences continued to be,
essentially, those of East Greek art.
In the Chiusi area, the large bronzes, too—for obvious reasons very poorly docu-
mented—are a strong signal of this change, as can be seen with the fragments of pos-
sibly two cult statues from the Moon Shrine at Acqua Santa in Chianciano (490–450;
Fig. 51.12).41
41 Bonamici 2003; Carruba 2006, 52–54, no. 2; Bonamici 2012, 323, 329–30.

Fig. 51.12: Bronze fragments of possibly two cult statues from the Moon Shrine at Acqua Santa
in Chianciano. Chianciano, Archaeological Museum (photo SAT)
In terra-cotta sculpture—that plastikē which Pliny (HN 35.152) judged to represent

Etruscan art above all else—there can be no doubt that the most important achieve-
ment is the famous pediment in high relief which adorned Temple A at Pyrgi, now at
the Villa Giulia Museum in Rome. In order to trace the full historical significance of a
monument that, just on the grounds of its exceptionally high quality, may appear, at
first sight, isolated, it is necessary to take a step back and focus the terra-cotta pro-
duction centers during the last decades of the sixth century.
From this point of view, one must remember Varro’s statement, collected by Pliny
(HN 35.157), which presented the school of Veii as predominant. In particular, Pliny
mentions a commission given to the school of Veii for the sculptures of the Temple
of Jupiter at the time of the Tarquins, and he provides us with the name of the work-
shop’s founder: Vulca. The extraordinary acroterial and votive statues as well as ante-
fixes (also molded by hand), discovered at the site of the shrine of Menerva in Porton-
accio, have served as evidence of the excellence of sculptors who were educated in
the figural grammar of the Ionic international style. Nevertheless, these artists were
also sensitive to the latest Aeginetan discoveries and were able to adapt their wonder-

ful mastery of expression to the needs of Etruscan (and Latial) temple architecture
with magnificent works in terra-cotta that were entirely consistent with the logic of
religious communication.
The Veii school is traditionally considered to have created the clay sculpture from
which was cast the celebrated bronze of the Capitoline Wolf (Fig. 51.13).42 This sculp-
ture was possibly conceived in the early fifth century as a Romulean icon in the new
post-tyrannical Rome as a reference to the founder and eponymous hero of the city:
such a program can easily be compared with the more or less contemporary revival of
Theseus in post-tyrannical Athens. On the other hand, recent archaeometrical analy-
ses of its casting technique have supported the idea that this might be a medieval
work,43 a conclusion which would obviously (and unfortunately) remove this true
masterpiece from the corpus of Etruscan art, if accepted.
Caere was also home to an important production of terra-cotta figures in the late
sixth century. Examples of these works include the two beautiful sarcophagi—in fact,
urns—of the Married Couple (now at the Villa Giulia and in the Louvre),44 the acrote-
rium with the goddess Thesan running on a wave and carrying a young, kidnapped,
lover in her arms (now in Berlin),45 and the intriguing antefixes of the so-called Edi-
ficio delle XX Celle (or the House of the Sacred Prostitutes) in the northern temenos of
Pyrgi.46 These examples—especially the sarcophagi—reveal a clear dependence on the
Veii school through migrant craftsmen, perhaps, or the location of their subsidiaries
in the territory of the coastal city. The semi-recumbent youth depicted on the lid of an
urn (Fig. 51.14: also found in Caere)47 clearly indicates that the style was significantly
updated at the beginning of the fifth century and in Latium, too, a similar process
can be detected in the terra-cottas of the temple of Mater Matuta at Satricum,48 which
rightly appear as imitative of Aeginetan sculpture.
This vibrant context of southern Etruscan experiences can be identified as the
location of the anonymous creator of the Pyrgi high relief (Fig. 51.15),49 which is con-
sidered to be the highest achievement not only of the fifth century but of all Etruscan
art, and which is truly representative of Brendel’s notion of a classical art developed
outside of Greece.50 The Pyrgi high relief cannot be considered a properly pedimen-
42 Brendel 1995, 250–53, figs. 175–76.

43 Carruba 2006.
44 Brendel 1995, 230–32, figs. 158–60.
45 Cristofani 1978, fig. 64.
46 Harari 2014.
47 Cristofani 1978, 100, fig. 65.
48 Cristofani 1978, 154–55, figs. 124–25; cf. also Lulof 1996.
49 Colonna 1996, 2000.
50 Brendel 1995, 15: “Their style was ‘classical’ ... but it was not itself Greek. ... It constitutes the only
known case of a contemporary classical art apart from the Greek ... the western equivalent of the
classical style.” 

Fig. 51.13: The Capitoline Wolf, Rome, Capitoline Museums (photo M. Harari)
tal sculpture according to the traditional definition in Greek sacred architecture. It

is instead more comfortably defined as a kind of great pinax of worked clay in relief,
which was to be screwed onto the head of the wooden ridgepole on the eastern side
of Temple A, toward the entrance to the sanctuary and the road to the city of Caere.
Temple A, stratigraphically dated to around 460, was erected in the northern
temenos of the sanctuary adjacent and parallel to the oldest structure, Temple B.
Temple B was a Greek peripteral temple that was dedicated by the king (or tyrant)
Thefarie Velianas to the Levantine goddess Ishtar (identified with the Etruscan
goddess Uni) at the end of the sixth century. This is indicated by the bilingual (Etrus-
can and Punic) text inscribed on three gold plates, which were originally nailed to the
doorpost (Fig. 35.2).51 Temple A, however, belongs to the so-called “Tuscan” temple
type, according to a classification that goes back to Vitruvius (4.7). It does have three
cellae and one colonnade only on the front, to the west and facing the sea. Thanks to
the above-mentioned epigraphic record, the identification of Temple B as dedicated
to Ishtar is unquestionable, while extant Greek literary sources52 do suggest that it is
possible for us to identify the deity of Temple A with Leucothea, a translation of the
Etruscan goddess Thesan, the divine personification of Dawn.
51 Colonna 2000.
52 Arist. [Oec.] 2.2.20i = 1349b; Polyaenus, Strat. 5.2.21; Ael. VH 1.20.

Fig. 51.14: Terra-cotta lid of urn, shaped as a semi-recumbent youth from Caere.
Cerveteri, Archaeological Museum (photo SAR-Laz)
The relief of Temple A is cleverly constructed to favor a point of view from below,
and seems to have been modeled on an important pictorial source, in terms of the
excellent and intricate superposition of six figures. The subject includes two episodes
from the Theban legend: the death of the blasphemer Capaneus by lightning, and the
cannibalistic banquet of Tydeus, themes that are in some way connected also in the
much later poetic account of Statius (Theb. 8.745–66). During the final battle under
the walls of Thebes, it was Capaneus who literally threw down the body of Melanip-
pus to be eaten by his enemy Tydeus, who was dying. The composition of Pyrgi is
completed by the figure of Menerva (Athena) on the left, who, puzzled, abandons
the battle and holds the useless jar containing the philter of immortality, whereas
Tinia (Zeus) is joined in his assault on Capaneus by a second warrior of impressive
stature. This latter might be the god of war, Laran (Ares), who takes an equal part in
the punishment of the wicked, and together with Tinia and Menerva constitutes a
divine triad, located in the semisquare on the left, while the figures on the right, with
impeccable consistency, are three heroes, each of whom overcome in a different way.
The eclectic style adopted by the sculptor is very effective in the blending (not
accidental, but intended to highlight the expression) of ingredients with differen-
tiated provenance. Though the furious masks of heroes (and of Tinia himself, also
bearded) evoke a Sub-Archaic manner of obviously Euphronian derivation, the soft
treatment of the drapery sometimes appears much more evolved. Significantly, the
head of Menerva, with the lower jaw horizontal and the almost complete disappear-
ance of a smile, is clearly associated with the new Severe sculptural language.

Fig. 51.15: Terra-cotta high relief from the Temple A at Pyrgi. Rome, Villa Giulia Museum
(photo SAR-Laz)
The unique complexity of this work stands out even at the level of iconological
interpretation. In comparison with the widely held—perhaps anachronistic—interpre-
tation that the piece contained a polyadic and political message of encouragement to
the concordia civium, which does derive from the Theban theme,53 our suggestion is
that this is predominantly a representation of the moral aspect of the punishment of
the wicked, with possible reference to the exotic worship, which had characterized
the sovereignty of Thefarie Velianas and the unorthodox planning he conceived for
the northern area of his sanctuary.54
53 Massa-Pairault 1992, 72–75.

54 Harari forthcoming.

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Sassatelli, G., and E. Govi. 2005. “Il tempio di Tina in area urbana.” In Culti, forma urbana e
artigianato a Marzabotto. Nuove prospettive di recerca, edited by G. Sassatelli and E. Govi,
9–62. Bologna: University Press Bologna.
Scarrone, M. 2015. La pittura vascolare etrusca del V secolo. Uno studio sulla ceramografia nella
tecnica a sovraddipintura tra le ultime figure nere e le prime figure rosse. Rome: Giorgio
Bretschneider.
Spivey, N. J. 1987. The Micali Painter and his Followers. Oxford: Clarendon.
—. 1997. Etruscan Art. London: Thames and Hudson. 
Szilágyi, J. G. 1981. “Impletae modis saturae.” Prospettiva 24: 2–23.
Torelli, M. 1971. “Il santuario di Hera a Gravisca.” ParPass 26: 44–67. 
—. 1997. Il rango, il rito e l’immagine. Alle origini della rappresentazione storica romana. Milan:
Electa. 
Traina, G. 1988. Paludi e bonifiche del mondo antico. Saggio di archeologia geografica. Rome:

Martin Bentz
52 Handicrafts, 580–450 BCE
Abstract: The Archaic period on the one hand saw the retention of many traditions and technological
accomplishments of the preceding eras, but on the other there were major innovations and develop-
ments of new artisanal products on the basis of a developing, dynamic urban culture. The special
value of the blossoming and individuality of the Etruscan craft industries is also highlighted by Greek
and Latin writers.
Keywords: bronze-working, pottery, jewerly, elites
Introduction
The Archaic period on the one hand saw the retention of many traditions and tech-
nological accomplishments of the preceding eras, but on the other there were major
innovations and developments of new artisanal products on the basis of a develop-
ing, dynamic urban culture. The special value of the blossoming and individuality of
the Etruscan craft industries is also highlighted by Greek and Latin writers.1
Several factors are determinative for the development of the craft industries in the
sixth and fifth centuries.
Economic development and the urbanization associated with it, which had begun
in the Iron Age and the Orientalizing period, entered a new phase in the sixth and fifth
centuries: the towns grew, and newly founded ones were laid out according to plan;
there arose a complex system of subcapitals that structured the countryside. Within
the towns, many sanctuaries were expanded and had a great need of handcrafted
products for furnishings, rituals, and votive practices. Social change and the associ-
ated changes in burial customs led to a great need of objects for outfitting graves. But
there was also more and more demand for items for (what are less well researched)
private use and representations. A large number of handcrafted items were destined
for festive banquets, which flourished under the influence of the Greek symposium in
the sixth and fifth centuries.
New economic networks were established at the same time—both within Italy
and for international trade—which also had their effects on handicrafts. Both politi-
cal controversy and trade relations with Greek cities were intense; from them large
quantities of products, as well as Greek merchants, slaves, and craftsmen, reached
Etruria that inspired and changed Etruscan crafts. Relations were also close with
Carthage, which likewise influenced Etruscan manufacture, though to a lesser extent
than Greece. Also important was trade with the Hallstatt cultures north of the Alps
1 Hor. Epist. 2.2.180; Ath. 1.28b, 15.700c; Quint. Inst. 12.10.1; Strabo 17.1.28.
972 Martin Bentz
and in present-day France, for whom the Etruscans constituted an important conduit
of Mediterranean culture, which in turn stimulated the creation of handcrafted items
for export, particularly bronze beak-spouted jugs (Schnabelkannen).
Etruscan handicrafts exhibit a strongly eclectic character, on account of the close
international connections. Because of the abundance of metal, since the Iron Age
there had been a rich and flourishing tradition of bronze work, with highly individual
forms, as well as a tradition of clay work, the introduction of the potter’s wheel, and
the development of impasto and bucchero. From the seventh century on, Greek forms
were incorporated into these indigenous techniques. But new techniques were also
developed, such as the black-figure painting of fine wares, and new materials were
used, such as glass paste, which first appeared in decorative work in the sixth century.
We have very little information on the craftsmen, their social status, or their
working conditions. We have a few signed works, and they offer nothing but the
names. Excavations of workplaces carried out so far show that in most cases they
were small operations, usually integrated into dwellings. An artisan’s quarter proper,
such as is known from Greek cities, has not yet been discovered. The situation is best
known from the almost completely excavated town of Marzabotto. Alongside many
small, specialized studios, there was a larger pottery, in which everything from roof
tiles to statuettes was made, and a good-sized bronze workshop, which occupied an
entire parcel of land. The discovery of kilns, work vessels, molds, tools, etc., makes it
possible to reconstruct the manufacturing process.2
The dating of handcrafted items is largely accomplished by associating them
with well-dated imports—especially those with figural decoration—or by formal and
stylistic analysis in comparison with Greek models. The coarse period labels “High
Archaic,” “Late Archaic,” and “Early Classical,” which cover the era treated here, are
correspondingly borrowed from the terminology of Greek archaeology.
An overview of craft production can be ordered by chronology and style; from a
sociological point of view; or by function and genre. A combination of the last of these
aspects with a geographic approach, however, recommends itself because of the dis-
tinct traditions and conditions.
1 Bronze working
Bronze working always held special significance.3 Thanks to the wealth of iron ore,
copper, and silver found in the Tolfa Mountains between Cerveteri and Tarquinia and
2 Nijboer 1998 collecting all workshop finds in central Italy; Bentz and Reusser 2008, 98–110 on
Marzabotto.
3 The various types of bronze artifacts described below can best be found in detailed scientific
catalogs: Adam 1984; Bini, Caramella and Buccioli 1995; Jurgeit 1999; Naso 2003.

52 Handicrafts, 580–450 BCE 973
especially on the island of Elba and in Colline Metallifere (see chapter 25 Zifferero),
the Etruscans achieved considerable mastery of metalworking, which continued to
develop. The most important products are vessels, all sorts of utensils, weapons, and
figurines.
Several parts of Etruria show rich production of bronze vessels, which for the
most part exhibit native forms with little exposure to Greek influence. In the region
in the Po Valley that from the seventh century was under Etruscan influence, there
arose, beginning in the middle of the sixth century, major Etruscan cities – principal
among them Felsina, modern-day Bologna. Also well excavated, besides Marzabotto,
is the port city of Spina. In the sixth and fifth centuries these cities housed large
workshops for vessels used in banqueting, the arrangements for which can be recon-
structed primarily on the basis of funerary goods. One important form is the situla,4
which is widespread from about 600 BCE in the Hallstatt area, the Este culture in
Venetia, and Felsina, and which evidences contact with the northern neighbors. This
is a large, somewhat conical “bucket” of beaten bronze sheets with movable handles,
used for mixing wine and water and for storing other liquids. In the sixth century they
are commonly decorated with figural friezes in repoussé that represent rituals and
themes from the life of the upper class. The form developed further and in the fifth
century is less conical and occasionally provided with feet. Other characteristic forms
are the likewise large stamnos with horizontal handles on the sides and offset mouth,
the biconical (Ger. knickwand) jug for ladling wine from the mixing vessel, and the
bulbous jug with tall handles and round spout (olpe), along with several smaller
forms of one-handled ladles and large flat bowls. A characteristic selection appears
in the Tomba Grande in the necropolis of Giardini Margherita in Bologna from shortly
before the middle of the fifth century BCE (Fig. 52.1), where Etruscan bronze vessels
are supplemented by imported Athenian ceramic vases, a large volute-krater, and
three drinking cups.
Very typical Etruscan bronze vessels of the sixth and fifth centuries were beak-
spouted jugs (Ger. Schnabelkannen) (Fig. 52.2),5 which were produced in the Tyrrhe-
nian coastal town of Vulci. Featuring long, drawn-out spouts and often decorated with
figures or animals at the mouth or on the handle, they were often exported to the Celtic
realm, where the form was imitated and developed; there were also imitations in clay.
In the southernmost part of Etruria as well as in Campania, with its central city
of Capua, which lay outside the core area and was not settled by Etruscans until the
sixth–fifth centuries, there was an entirely distinct production of bronze vessels, of
which the large cauldron provided with a lid and figural decoration was often used
as a cinerary urn.6
4 Frey 1992.
5 Vorlauf 1997.
6 Grassi 2000.

974 Martin Bentz
Fig. 52.1: Tomba Grande in the necropolis of Giardini Margherita

in Bologna, before 450 BCE. Bologna, Museo Civico
In the aforementioned tomb in Bologna we can recognize additional bronze uten-

sils that are especially typical of Etruscan banquets. On the floor lies a sieve for strain-
ing wine and a multi-armed torchière for illumination; to the right is a tall stand on
which hung bronze ladles and the drinking bowls, and to the left a candelabrum on
whose arms candles were affixed and which is crowned by a statuette. The main locus
of manufacture of such objects was Vulci, which was also the source of many objects
not only in Felsina, but especially also in the necropolis of Spina.7 Another typical
product of Late Archaic Vulci workshops is a tripod with rich figural decoration, such
as the example in Karlsruhe (Fig. 52.3); the appliquéd men below and the appliquéd
7 Hostetter 1986; Testa 1989; Ambrosini 2002.

Fig. 52.2: Etruscan Schnabelkanne

from the Rhineland, 500–480 BCE. Bonn,
Akademisches Kunstmuseum,
inv. no. C 623 (Photo museum)
banqueting women above clarify the function of the stand for holding a mixing vessel
at festive banquets.8
The Etruscan relief-engravers achieved special mastery in the Late Archaic period
of creating sheet metal with repoussé figures that decorated representative grave
goods, including large tripods and the panels of battlewagons. Noteworthy examples
are the wagons from Monteleone di Spoleto, now in New York, and from Castel San
Mariano in Perugia, now in Perugia and Munich.9
Alongside the vessels and utensils, there was extensive casting of bronze statu-
ettes, which were set up on freestanding stone bases and were dedicated particularly
in the sanctuaries of northern Etruria.10 They come in many sizes and styles. While
there are a certain number of well-made figures that follow Greek stylistic develop-
ments, depicting nude boys or clothed girls like Greek kouroi and korai, and some-
8 Jurgeit 1999, 259–62 no. 416.

9 Höckmann 1982.
10 Richardson 1983; Cristofani 1985.

976 Martin Bentz
Fig. 52.3: Tripod from Vulci, 500–480 BC.

Badisches Landesmuseum Karlsruhe,
inv. no. F 203 (Photo museum)
times also gods, there are also simple, schematic, stiff figures. The main manufac-
turing centers were in Vulci and the area around Chiusi and Orvieto. Even though
they actually belong in chapter on art (see chapter 51 Spivey and Harari), they were
nonetheless made in the same workshops as the workaday bronzes and complete the
picture of the flourishing craft in bronze.
2 Jewelry
The expensive jewelry of the Etruscans was for the most part made of gold or silver-
gilt.11 The coastal towns—especially the southern Etruscan cities of Vulci and Caere—
remained in the sixth century the most important producers of these luxury goods.
Jewelry includes items worn directly on the body, such as hair clasps and hairpins,
earrings, tiaras, chains, and rings, as well as elements of dress like fibulae, belt fas-
teners, pectorals, and other items that decorate clothing. The techniques and basic
elements in themselves (metal, applying gold, wire, granulation, etc.) persisted from
11 Cristofani and Martelli 1983.

Fig. 52.4: Set of gold ornaments from Vulci. New York, Metropolitan Museum,
inv. no. 40.11.7–18 (after Cristofani and Martelli 1983, 158–159)
the Orientalizing period. But more strongly sculptural decorations appear in the sixth
century, including those with mythological themes, and other materials become more
common, such as colored glass paste or gems, in order to achieve a more colorful and
intricate effect (Fig. 52.4). Alongside the old forms new ones are added, such as the
widespread valise-type earrings (“a bauletto”) of Etruscan invention, the disk ear-
rings of Anatolian origin, and a variety of new forms of ring, such as those with a
cartouche-shaped setting.
Cameos, mostly in the form of scarabs, were initially imports only,12 but after
530 BCE, gem-cutters from eastern Greece immigrated to Etruria and established
workshops that were soon creating characteristically Etruscan items, marked by spe-
cific formal shaping and a calligraphic style. The patterns are occasionally taken from
Greek vase illustrations (Fig. 52.5). They were a component of gold jewelry and to an
extent were also used as seals.
A group of small ivory and bone-tile reliefs is distributed in central Etruria in the
area between Vulci and Chiusi;13 occasionally they were also exported. They were
12 Zazoff 1968; Zwierlein-Diehl 2007, 81–97.

13 Martelli 1985

978 Martin Bentz
Fig. 52.5: Carnelian scarab from Perugia depicting the myth of the Seven
against Thebes, 500–480 BCE. Antikensammlung Berlin
clearly used on wooden caskets, since deteriorated, that were used to store jewelry
and other objects. The reliefs usually show themes from aristocratic life like banquets
(Fig. 52.6), dancing, hunting, and only occasionally mythological figures. From the
stylistic point of view they constitute a good example of Greek-Ionian influence on the
Etruscan workshops in the second half of the sixth century BCE, which can be seen in
almost every type of artistic handicraft.
In interments of women, from the last quarter of the sixth century into the Hel-
lenistic period, bronze mirrors have been found whose front is polished to a shine and
whose back is commonly engraved with figural images. Every culture has mirrors; the
engraving of these hand mirrors with ivory handles, though, is an Etruscan inven-
tion without direct precedent, and it clearly influenced Greece, where the phenom-
enon began only later. At first they were luxury objects, which at first were made only
in small numbers; only in the Hellenistic period did mirrors spread into additional
strata of society. The pictures show banquets, music and dance, and occasionally also
mythological themes. These images represent one of the best sources for the Etruscan
iconography of gods, since the figures are often provided with name tags. The most
important place of manufacture was Vulci.14
14 Mayer-Prokop 1967; Thomson de Grummond 1982; the CSE, organized according to museum, is in
progress; fundamental on the technology is Zimmer 1995.

Fig. 52.6: Ivory plaque depicting a banquet, 530–520 BCE. Archäologische Sammlung
der Universität Göttingen, inv. no. V 31
3 Ceramics
More pottery survives than any other type of handcrafted item. Aside from the eve-
ryday ware, which generally was produced locally with local peculiarities, there are
types of fine ceramics that have their roots in the seventh century but then flourished
anew in the sixth century and were decorated with new techniques.
First of all is the typically Etruscan bucchero, which is burned black with a
reducing flame and has a highly polished metal-like outer surface. The technique
was developed in southern Etruria, especially in Cerveteri. The manufacture of “buc-
chero sottile” came to an end in the first half of the sixth century, but it developed
into the “bucchero pesante,” which was made especially in the Chiusi-Orvieto region
into the early fifth century.15 The variety of forms is very great; they are mostly small
vessels included in the banquetware: goblets, kyathoi, plates, amphorae, and tan-
kards in many variations, often with sculptural decoration (Fig. 52.7). There are also
15 So far there has been no comprehensive work on the bucchero of the sixth century; cf. most
recently the conferences reported by Bonghi Jovino 1993 and Naso 2004; see also now the catalogue
by Perkins 2007 with bibliography; new typologies by Tamburini 2004 and Capponi and Ortenzi 2006.

980 Martin Bentz
Fig. 52.7: Bucchero pesante kyathos from

Orvieto (?) depicting a frieze of boars and
the Potnia Theron, 550–500 BCE. Bonn,
Akademisches Kunstmuseum, inv. no. 1891
sometimes imitations of utensils, such as braziers, as well as ladles and others. They
usually have Etruscan shapes; only occasionally are Greek vase forms imitated in buc-
chero pesante. The sculptural decoration is achieved with stamp seals, cylinder seals,
and appliqué, which can also be figural.
As for figure-painted pottery,16 the imitation of the Corinthian models continued
into the third generation, primarily in the form of little ointment containers, until the
middle of the sixth century. Also during this period, the stream of Corinthian, East
Greek, and Laconian ware into Etruria dried up; almost nothing but Attic vases was
imported. For one thing, emigré craftsmen from eastern Greece were now working in
Etruria, who made e.g. the “Caeretan Hydriae” or the “Dinoi Campana” on the spot. In
their circle, shortly before 550 BCE, the first Etruscan workshop was then established
in Vulci for black-figure painted pottery, known as Pontic vases. As for the well-known
signed amphora of the founder of the workshop, the Paris-painter, which was found
in Vulci and is now in Munich (Fig. 52.8), its eclectic character is easily recognized.
The style of the figures, the color, and the ornamentation of the meander interrupted
16 Overview, Martelli 1987; for the later Etrusco-Corinthian vases, Szilágyi 1998. Supplements on the
work of the black-figure painters in Gaultier 1995, 2003.

Fig. 52.8: Amphora from Vulci depicting

the Judgment of Paris, 540 BCE. Munich,
Staatliche Antikensammlungen, Inv. 837
by stars show very strong influence from eastern Greece, whereas the shape of the
vase and the preference for mythological subjects, in this case the Judgment of Paris,
are due to the influence of Attic pottery. After the still rather limited quantities made
by this first generation, the second generation in the last quarter of the sixth century
moved to mass production. The largest workshop of this period is the Micali-painter’s,
who likewise was established in Vulci. The style assimilates Attic elements more and
more strongly, and the quality of firing and painting diminishes. In the third genera-
tion, in the first quarter of the fifth century, branch workshops were established in
Orvieto and/or in the area of Chiusi; the graphic quality clearly decreases; often it
is nothing but pure silhouette-painting. By far the most popular form is the necked
amphora, which had earlier been the favorite shape for the Paris-painter. Aside from
the manufacture in the heartland, there were still a few workshops for black-figure
vases in Capua in Campania.17
Red-figure painted vases, made in Athens since 530 BCE, were indeed imported in
great number, but only put into local production quite late, since they are technically
much more complex to make. In the second quarter of the fifth century, however, the
17 Overview by Bellelli 2010 and Bellelli 2011.

982 Martin Bentz
Fig. 52.9: Relief of a cinerary urn from Chiusi, ca. 500 BCE
Antikensammlung Berlin, inv. no. Sk 1222
black-figure vase workshops developed a pseudo-red-figure vase process, which does

not leave the figures blank, but paints them in color over the black glaze.
An important area of the potters’ business was the manufacture of terra-cotta
roofs, i.e. tiles, entablature cladding, pediments, etc.18 Around the middle of the
seventh century the custom of clay roofs spread through Etruria and in the course of
the sixth century became the rule, so that major tile-makers sprang up in every town.
Eaves and the cladding for wooden entablatures in temples, public buildings, and
a few magnificent private residences were lavishly painted or decorated with mold-
made reliefs.
Small terra-cotta sculptures, so numerous in sanctuaries throughout the Greek
world, are very rare in comparison with bronze figures in Etruscan sanctuaries before
the fourth century BCE.
18 Most recently Winter 2009.

In the realm of lavish funeral rituals, there arose some new developments of new
forms of burials: sarcophagi, cinerary urns, cippi, altars. Various locally available
materials were used: primarily clay, but also several kinds of stone, such as limestone
in Chiusi or nenfro in Vulci; marble, which was not systematically sought and quar-
ried before the Augustan era, was used only in rare, exceptional cases.
Of special note is the large group of Late Archaic objects of soft limestone that
were made in Chiusi.19 These include, among other things, sarcophagi and urns in the
form of chests or houses, whose sides bear panels in relief. The themes of these often
very high quality items reflect the values of the local upper class, as they also appear
in the wall paintings and other genres of the time: hunting, banqueting, dancing,
sport, battle, as well as specifically funereal themes such as laying out and mourning
the dead (Fig. 52.9).
In southern Etruria, on the other hand, in the sixth century new sarcophagus and
urn forms in terra-cotta developed, on which the deceased is portrayed lying on the
lid, participating in the banquet. Among the well-known examples are the sarcophagi
of a married couple from Caere now in the museum of the Villa Giulia in Rome and
the Louvre in Paris.20
After the rich and flourishing and very varied production of etruscan products in
the Archaic and Early Classical periods there is a change taking place in the second
half of the fifth century BCE. Due to the political situation the Etruscans do not dom-
inate the trade in the western Mediterranean anymore, they loose control over the
cities in the Po Valley and in Campania because of the Celts and the Samnites. This
effects a certain decline in production in many cities which restarts again with differ-
ent premises over the course of the fourth century.
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Ambrosini, L. 2002. Thymiateria etruschi in bronzo. Rome: l’Erma di Bretschneider.
Bellelli, V. ed. 2010. La ceramica a figure nere di tipo attico prodotta in Italia, vol. 1. Mediterranea 7.
—. ed. 2011. La ceramica a figure nere di tipo attico prodotta in Italia, vol. 2. Mediterranea 8.
Bentz, M., and C. Reusser 2008. Marzabotto. Planstadt der Etrusker. Mainz: von Zabern.
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Nazionale di Tarquinia 13. Rome: Giorgio Bretschneider.
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19 Jannot 1984; most recent overview by Camporeale 2007.

20 Briguet 1989.

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Petra Amann
Abstract: The sixth and early fifth centuries BCE were a period of flourishing economies in many
city-states of Etruria. The urbanization phenomenon came to the fore and was consolidated. In the
major coastal cities of the south beginning in the second half of the sixth century there must have
emerged an upper class (consisting of old and new aristocracy), an urban middle class, and a sort of
proletariat, although little is known about the latter. A well-developed system of retinue – serving as
social glue between the different classes – must be presumed. A broader urban upper to middle class
exhibit some settlements in the interior (Orvieto, Chiusi). The gentilicial system was relegated to the
background by the timocratic order.
Iconographic and epigraphic sources provide glimpses into the social structures of the individ-
ual city-states, which all had their own typical traits. The archaic wall paintings of Tarquinia are
considered private expressions of an urban aristocracy, which display interest in communal cult cel-
ebrations and banquets intended to strengthen internal cohesion, while the military element hardly
plays any role in the iconography of these Late archaic tombs. It may be that new military strategies,
like armies of hoplites and battle in well-ordered lines, offered the individual aristocrat less possibili-
ties for self-representation. In the course of time, the banquet iconography that had previously been
rich in variation fossilized; this is to be seen as an indication of walling off and an emergence of a
consolidated (and gradually more closed) noble class. On the other hand, the figure of the warrior in
less elitist-aristocratic funerary milieus of the sixth and fifth centuries continued to be of great impor-
tance, as shown by the reliefs in Chiusi, the grave cippi of Orvieto, and the grave stelae with reliefs in
and around Fiesole and in northern Bologna, the last ones already radiating a strongly urban men-
tality. The capability of the warrior to equip himself appears to be of central significance, also with
regard to the possibility of his having a voice in political affairs.
The consolidation of the timocratic-republican structures brought a clearer exclusion of women
from the public realm and increased their concentration on the domestic sphere, although regions
differ according to individual sociopolitical circumstances. While the tomb inscriptions placed over
the entrances of the Archaic chamber tombs at Orvieto as a rule name only one man related to his
function as pater familias, the ideology of nobility and high-status thinking prevented a complete
marginalization of the female element in Tarquinia. The idea of the married couple as the reproduc-
tive nucleus of society still held significance and thus also the representation of the wife as partner of
the husband and mistress of the house.
The presence of foreign-born merchants and craftsmen, especially Greeks, promoted by trans-
regional opening of the markets and attractiveness of the coastal cities is clear. They lived on the spot
as free resident aliens or non-free workers, while vertical social mobility in the sense of full integra-
tion into the body of citizens happened rather rarely. Something similar probably also held in this
period for Italics, whose presence in Etruria, though, generally goes far beyond our chronological
horizon and created the most varied forms of integration.
Keywords: aristocracy, urban middle class, wall paintings, women, foreigners.

986 Petra Amann
1 General lines of development in the individual

city-states
The period between 580 and 450 BCE saw a flourishing economy in many Etruscan
city-states, especially in the south and the coastal regions; a considerable broadening
of the Etruscan trade network even beyond Italy is noteworthy. In the major centers of
settlement, the phenomenon of urbanization had been achieved and was gradually
extended. Although the interaction between the various social strata in the Archaic
period remains very poorly understood, in the large coastal cities in the second half of
the sixth century there must have emerged an upper class (consisting of old and new
aristocracy), an urban middle class, and a sort of proletariat; some settlements in the
inner parts of Etruria seem to exhibit a broader urban upper-middle class. The genti-
licial system (i.e. a system dominated by gentes) was relegated to the background by
the timocratic (propertied) order, but continued to exist, especially in the south. Even
though in this period as a rule city-states were organized in a republican fashion, with
regularly changing office holders belonging to the local upper class, indications of
the temporary presence of “kings” or tyrants between the sixth and fourth centuries
are nonetheless not unknown (I refer to Thefarie Velianas of the Pyrgi gold tablets, the
figure of Porsenna from Chiusi,1 or the reintroduction of monarchy at Veii mentioned
by Livy 5.1.3). In the second half of the sixth century, the increasing competition
between Etruscans and Greeks led to serious military engagements, which at first had
no serious consequences either for the close economic relations or for the important
cultural model provided by Greece. This changed only toward the end of the period
under consideration here.
This is the background against which the social structures of Etruria continued
to develop, with each Etruscan city-state representing an independent unit, what is
also seen in the distinct material legacies of the individual centers. The increase in
homogeneous and sometimes extensive iconographic and epigraphic corpora in the
Archaic period provides a relatively good basis for assessing social structures, partic-
ularly as these corpora reflect differing social levels in the city-state. The rich complex
of wall paintings from the chamber tombs of the Monterozzi necropolis at Tarquinia
should be seen as having been commissioned by the local aristocracy. They began—
after a few forerunners—around 540 BCE (of altogether approximately 6000 chamber
tombs discovered only 2–3% are painted2). Chiusi is distinguished by its numerous
stone reliefs on plinths, urns, cippi, and (occasionally) sarcophagi, which were used
for the individual burials of an aristocratic, though not particularly elitist, class, and
1 On Porsenna see among others Di Fazio 2000. See also Menichetti 1994, 90–117.
2 Steingräber 1985, 24.

53 Society, 580–450 BCE 987
date to between the third quarter of the sixth century and 470/450.3 Only in the late
sixth and especially the first half of the fifth century is a local oligarchy identifiable,
which on the model of Tarquinia commissioned tombs with figural paintings (in this
case multi-chamber tombs). The Archaic chamber tombs at Orvieto (Volsinii veteres)
were laid out in regular rows, relatively small and kept rather simple within; at the
outside the inscriptions identify the inhabitants. These tombs are the expression of
a broad upper class, based not only on land ownership but also on trade and the
possession of workshops, which presents itself as an orderly whole, organized on a
relatively egalitarian basis,4 which came fairly close to the Archaic Greek polis model
of a community of citizens (in fact painted chamber tombs immediately surrounding
the city date from not before the mid fourth century).5 A developed urban mentality
radiates from the pictorial corpus of the horseshoe-shaped funeral stelae from Felsina
(Bologna) in the Po area, which were produced between the beginning of the fifth and
the early fourth century.6 With regard to material and methods, settlement archaeol-
ogy (e.g. at San Giovenale, Acquarossa, Lago dell’Accesa, Marzabotto, Spina, Vetu-
lonia) opens up other approaches to the theme;7 coastal cities like Caere, Tarquinia,
and Vulci as well as interior centers such as Chiusi and Orvieto, however, have not yet
provided many access points in this regard.
The iconographic material from the funerary realm is naturally highly representa-
tive and from an eschatological perspective orbits the central features of the social life
of the deceased. In Late Archaic Tarquinia, these amount to banquets and symposia,
revelry (Gk. komos) and dance, physical fitness and public games, and cultic celebra-
tions and hunting.8 In most cases the Late archaic tombs are relatively small with one
chamber9 thought to be for the nuclear family; by means of the paintings the local
nobility celebrated a sort of self-representation in the private sphere. Common cult cel-
ebrations strengthened the horizontal connections and the inner solidarity between
the single gentes, as is to be gathered from the Tomba delle Iscrizioni (Tomb of the
3 Fundamental: Jannot 1984, which deals with about 275 monuments. Cf. d’Agostino 1989. Attic
influence is obvious.
4 For Orvieto see in general Colonna 1985; 2003b, stressing the absence of an aristocracy in the
Orientalizing period. On the necropolises: Bonamici, Stopponi, and Tamburini 1994; Feruglio 2003.
Architectonic forerunners of the chamber tomb type are found in Caere.
5 Traces of wall painting from the fifth century are found in cemeteries of the territory (mainly
architectural wall paintings, but see also the painted tomb of Grotte di Santo Stefano). On the tombs
of Settecamini and Porano see summarily Steingräber 2006, 211–15.
6 See most recently Sassatelli and Govi 2007; Govi 2015.
7 See chapters 12 Amann, 70 Zifferero, 71 Nielsen and Warden.
8 On the wall paintings at Tarquinia see among others Steingräber 1985; Moltesen and Weber-
Lehmann 1992; Steingräber 2006.
9 Famous exceptions with more chambers are, for example, the Tomb of the Bulls, the Bartoccini
Tomb, and the Tomb of Hunting and Fishing. Cf. the tomb plans in Steingräber 1985, 386.

988 Petra Amann
Inscriptions, ca. 520 BCE).10 Only males are represented, who probably belonged to a
group of persons sharing same interests, perhaps on the model of the Greek hetairiai
(Fig. 6.1.). The unusually numerous labels for the men record the various gentilicia
of the participants (ET² Ta 7.13–29: Matve, Aniie, Punpu, Tetiie, Vinacna, Recieniie,
Fanuru); Larth Matves, the leader of the lively komos, should probably be recognized
as the owner of the tomb. The youthful rider Laris Larthiia could be his son; horse-
manship was often a pastime of young noblemen.
The favorite motif of Etruscan wall painting of the sixth to fourth centuries was,
however, the banquet itself, on which great significance is bestowed in Etruscan
funerary art in general.11 It symbolizes a positively engaged, desirable pastime. Icono-
graphic models from the Greek world (Ionic, Attic) here too played an important role,
but they were transformed against the native background according to the ideas of
the tombs’ owners in order to convey their own meanings corresponding to Etruscan
social structure; this also includes the participation of the wife/wives, which in prin-
ciple was not forbidden or unusual. While the second half of the sixth century was
remarkably innovative and open to experiment, as concerned the number, gender,
and position of the participants in the feasts, from about 500 on the type of the collec-
tive banquet on klinai was established, with in many cases mixed-gender participants
on three to five couches (the Tomba del Vecchio or “Tomb of the Old Man” is one of
the earliest examples12). With this banquet type the tomb’s owner demonstrates his
belonging (and that of his oikos) to a social elite. Its standardization is evidence for
an increasing rigidification and walling off of the ruling class during the early fifth
century, and the emergence of an established, yet relatively broad aristocratic oligar-
chy in Tarquinia.
Aside from the weapon dance (pyrrhic dance) in the context of athletic games,
the ideology of the warrior plays only a very modest role in the pictorial repertoire of
the Late Archaic and sub-Archaic chamber tombs of Tarquinia. This concentration
on the peaceful side of aristocratic life along with far-reaching suppression of the
warlike element—at least in the depictions (the associated grave gifts, among which
we can assume were weapons, are unfortunately mostly lost)—appears to have been
a deliberate decision in the second half of the sixth and first half of the fifth centu-
ries. It perhaps had to do with battle techniques—such as the hoplite army and fight-
ing in an ordered formation called the phalanx13—which in contrast to earlier times
gave individual aristocrats less opportunity for self-representation. Speaking in favor
10 Steingräber 1985, 314, no. 74. Massa-Pairault 2000, 259: “sodalizio, sede di un collegium
mercatorum” [association, seat of a collegium mercatorum].
11 See among others de Marinis 1961; Weber-Lehmann 1985; Amann 2000; Cerchiai and d’Agostino
2004; Amann 2016.
12 Steingräber 1985, 355, no. 124: ca. 500 BCE.
13 For the problem see d’Agostino 1990, esp. 63–69; Adam and Rouveret 1990.

53 Society, 580–450 BCE 989
of this is the fact that the figure of the warrior was granted yet higher status in the
less elitist-aristocratic funerary milieus of the sixth and fifth centuries. The funerary
reliefs from Chiusi show some (albeit not many) representations of fully armed warri-
ors.14 Especially in Orvieto, helmeted warrior heads served as tomb cippi, and at least
one stela and one cippus depicting a warrior are also known from there.15 The warrior
is a well-known motif in the interesting group of grave stelae and cippi from Fiesole
and its territory.16 It appears to be a matter of people who defined themselves above
all through their military service,17 possibly as warriors or full citizens, who could
equip themselves with weapons on their own. The warrior’s ability to outfit himself
is a significant fact in connection with his having a political voice and thus with his
social status, as clearly emerges in the Roman tradition.18 It contrasts with soldiers
who had to be outfitted by their patron. A group of bronze helmets of the Negau type
belonging to the fifth century, found in 1905 in a deposit on the arx of Vetulonia, could
be interpreted in this way.19 On the basis of the inscription haspnaś, found on at least
fifty-six of the helmets, they appear to be equipment that remained in the possession
of the gens Haspna.
The phenomenon of the warrior stelae in the Archaic and Classical periods was
mainly limited to inner and northern Etruria; warrior representations are also found
on the grave stelae from Felsina (Bologna), which reflect urban-citizen mentality, and
indeed on both the simpler examples and those of the ruling upper class.20
Weapons as grave goods in men’s tombs are also known in Archaic southern
Etruria. An interesting example is the Tomba del Guerriero (Tomb of the Warrior) in
Vulci, from the last quarter of the sixth century. Besides a complete set of equipment
14 Jannot 1984, 382–86. Alongside heroic individual combat, hoplites standing in a row are also
known (e.g. a base from Poggio Gaiella, Palermo, Jannot 1984, A.2, fig. 65; d’Agostino 1990, 79).
Weapon dances likewise belong to the pictorial repertoire. For the unique sarcophagus from the
Sperandio necropolis of Perugia, which shows persons armed with spears (Jannot 1984, C.I.1b,
figs. 158–59), see most recently Cherici 2002, 101–3. The question of weapons as grave goods also arises
here. Fragmentary fighting scenes on horseback show paintings in the Paolozzi Tomb: Steingräber
1985, 271, no. 21.
15 Colonna 2003b, 137; Camporeale 2003, 156–62, figs. 1–3; Maggiani 2005.
16 Magi 1932, esp. 40–43. See now Perazzi et. al. 2016; Amann forthcoming.
17 According to d’Agostino 1990, 82, there could be some indication that a military class was emerging,
but he stresses that evidence is very scanty.
18 According to the tradition (Livy 1.43; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 4.6ff.), the comitia centuriata, based on
the hoplite army, were introduced to Rome under King Servius Tullius, thus around the middle of
the sixth century. The reliability of the ancient sources, however, is very much under discussion. For
armor in ancient Italy see in general Stary 1981.
19 All in all the deposit included nearly 150 bronze helmets. Martelli 1995, no. 22; CIE 3.4.12023–78;
Maggiani 2012. Cf. on this question also Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 9.5.4, who on the occasion of a campaign
in 480 speaks of “the powerful, the wealthy,” and their “dependents” (penestai) in the Etruscan army
(see chapter 59 Amann).
20 Sassatelli and Govi 2007, esp. 77, 83.

990 Petra Amann
for a hoplite, it also contained one Panathenaic amphora.21 Without a doubt, it con-
tained a high-ranking person, a sort of promachos or military leader (perhaps along
the lines of the Vibenna brothers, whom the literary tradition and the pictorial dec-
oration of the François Tomb describe as leading figures/condottieri); the warrior’s
origin and his relation to the local noble families remain, however, unclear.
The economic circumstances of the deceased were generally not a theme in the
funerary art of this period, although some few exceptions may exist. In the Tomba
della Nave (Tomb of the Ship, 480–450 BCE) in Tarquinia, for example, the depiction
of the ship can be interpreted as an allusion to the livelihood of a ship owner, but also
as a reference to the journey to the world beyond (Fig. 51.8).22
Besides the maintenance of horizontal relationships within the upper class, in the
Archaic period the very poorly documented system of retinue also must have played
an important role. The clientele system that was usual at the same time in Rome was
based on the principle of fides. The patron had to protect and to support his clients,
and in return the client assisted the patron in his economic, political, and military
interests (cf. e.g. Law of the Twelve Tables 8.21). The Casa dell’Impluvium in Roselle,
built around the middle or in the third quarter of the sixth century, illustrates the
significance that accrued to the horizontal and vertical strands of the fabric of social
relationships of a Late Archaic noble lord.23 A large part of the 330 m² building con-
sists of an entrance hall, an atrium-like inner court, and an adjoining banquet hall,
identified by the many drinking vessels found within; in contrast to this, there is a
rather small, secluded “private area”. The increasing significance of representational
duties in the house itself appears to have influenced the development of domestic
architecture around the middle of the sixth century.
2 Place and role of the female element

As has already been mentioned (see chapter 12 Amann), gender roles were defined
traditionally in Etruria, although separation of the female element was not a goal,
at least in principle. This is exemplified by women taking part in the common meal/
21 d'Agostino 1990, 78. According to Torelli 1987, 45, he did not belong to the aristocratic-gentilicial
class. For other hoplite and warrior graves see Adam and Rouveret 1990, 345–46.
22 Colonna 2003a. On the stela of Vel Kaikna in Felsina depicting a ship see Sassatelli and Govi 2007,
73 (Fig. 61.1).
23 For the building see Donati 1994.

53 Society, 580–450 BCE 991
banquet,24 women as spectators at public games,25 the general esteem accorded

to wives and the family overall, as well as the care for daughters. A certain level of
education is thus indicated by the Etruscan mirrors, with their sometimes inscribed
depictions of Greek myths, which were produced primarily for a female audience.26
The space for female development, however, was subject to the respective sociopoliti-
cal situation. Beginning from a stronger presence of the female element in the Ori-
entalizing period, increasing marginalization in the sixth and fifth centuries can be
discerned. The consolidation of the timocratic-republican structure led to women’s
displacement from the public realm and an increased concentration on the domestic
sphere.27 Comparison of the relief friezes of Murlo and Acquarossa makes this clear.
Whereas the terra-cotta decoration of the residence at Murlo (ca. 580 BCE) still clearly
stands in the Orientalizing tradition of women taking part in the princely feast, the
reliefs of the large house-complex in Zone F in Acquarossa, dating to the third quarter
of the sixth century, concentrate on chariotry with warriors and the mythological
figure of Herakles, the orgiastic kōmos, and the strictly male feast, which features
no female figures at all. This is characteristic also for the architectural plaques from
Tuscania/Ara del Tufo (ca. 550).28 The heroic figure of Herakles now appears neces-
sary for legitimizing the power of specific gentes and especially their leaders, whose
military strength is stressed. In parallel, the disappearance of the (mortal) woman
from these banquet scenes must be seen as an index of a new sociopolitical organiza-
tion in which associations of men of an Archaic-urban stamp played an important
role. Marginalization of women can also be recognized in tomb inscriptions in the
necropolises of Orvieto (second half of the sixth–first quarter of the fifth century). The
inscriptions on the outer façade over the entrance of the tombs, clearly addressed to
the external world, as a rule name men,29 while the relatively small chamber tombs
probably served for the nuclear family (possibly including select servants). The pater
familias, who was a full citizen and a warrior, outwardly represented the (nuclear)
family, while the wife remained unnamed. An interesting non-funerary epigraphic
24 An open-air banquet that seperates male from female participants decorates the walls of the Tomb
of the Funeral Couch (460–450 BCE) in Tarquinia; this extraordinary representation is probably to be
explained on the basis of special cult requirements. Most recently Scala 1997.
25 So e.g. in the Tomba delle Bighe (Tomb of the Chariots) at Tarquinia: Steingräber 1985, 289–91,
no. 47. On the tomb, most recently Benassai 2001.
26 On the not very numerous illustrated mirrors of the sixth and fifth centuries, see along with the
volumes of the CSE the fundamental compilations of Mayer-Prokop 1967 and Pfister-Roesgen 1975.
27 See d’Agostino 1993, esp. 68; Amann 2000, esp. 210. Cf. also Nielsen 1998.
28 For the interpretation of these banquet scenes, see the summary in Amann 2000, 138–41. For the
interpretation of the pictorial world of the Etrusco-Latial terra-cotta plaques see in general: d’Agostino
1991; Torelli 1992; Menichetti 1994, 93–102.
29 In only four examples is there a woman’s name over the entrance to the tomb: ET² Vs 1.37, 1.66, 1.85,
1.112 and 1.94 (cippus). Cf. Amann 2000, 116–17.

992 Petra Amann
complex is represented by the Archaic votive inscriptions in the extra-urban Porto

naccio sanctuary of Veii, in which only one woman is attested amongst the dedicators
(and this is not absolutely certain).30 While female votive statuettes and dedicatory
gifts having to do with fertility, birth, and children’s welfare refer to female piety, epi-
graphic traces of them are rare in the Archaic period. Including the aforementioned
inscription, between the beginning of the sixth and the middle of the fifth century
we know of only three to four dedicatory inscriptions of a more complex nature pro-
vided by women,31 in one case the donor was a lautenitha (see below). References to
political or sacred offices are generally rare in inscriptions of the Archaic period and
not attested in connection with women. The archaeological and iconographic mate-
rial in the Archaic period, moreover, offers very little information with regard to cult-
relevant women or priestesses.32
Etruscan funerary imagery shows clear differences in the presentation of the
female element, as conditioned by the sociopolitical background of the clients and
the type of monument. The wall paintings displayed within the family tombs of the
wealthy metropolis of Tarquinia were not intended for the general public but served
for the self-definition of the tomb’s owner within the bounds of aristocratic family
ideology. Alongside high-status thinking there was also the capability to reproduce
progeny that formed part of this ideology of nobility. Hence, the idea of the married
couple as the nucleus of society took on significance especially in the face of death,
as did the depiction of the wife as the husband’s partner and high-ranking mistress
of the house. The banquet scenes in particular show quite different interpretations of
the basic theme. The well-known paintings in the pediment of the rear chamber of the
Tomba della Caccia e della Pesca (Tomb of Hunting and Fishing, ca. 510 BCE)33 with
reclining couple on mattresses are rather concerned with the erotic aspect of the mar-
riage relationship and—via allusion to Dionysos (and Ariadne)—aim at a certain eleva-
tion and heroization of the tomb owner (the societal reservations against heroization
of normal mortals operating in Classical Athens were less strong in Etruria). The Bar-
toccini Tomb (ca. 520),34 depicts the dignified mater familias seated on her own chair,
following a pictorial model widespread in the eastern Mediterranean, and empha-
30 Readings and interpretations of this inscription differ (1st half of the 6th century), see ET² Ve 3.13;
Amann 2000, 115; Maras 2009, 413, Ve do.8: venalia(s) (female praenomen or divine name). For the
whole complex of inscriptions, see Maras 2009, 405-427.
31 Maras 2009, 208–9: Ve do.8, Py do.2, Py do 3–4 (?). On the new inscription from Orvieto, Campo
della Fiera, see below footnote 52.
32 See Krauskopf 2012 with reference to the terra-cotta frieze from Murlo. The situation is somewhat
better in the Late Etruscan period. Cf. chapter 59 Amann.
33 Steingräber 1985, 293–94, no. 50.
34 This is the oldest banquet scene with klinai in Tarquinia. Weber-Lehmann 1985, 42–44; Steingräber
1985, 286–87, no. 45; Amann 2000, 151–52. The four-chamber grave is bigger than contemporary graves
usually are.

53 Society, 580–450 BCE 993
sizes the tomb owner as legitimate pater familias and presider over a well-ordered
oikos.35 From about 500, there then evolved the aforementioned canonical banquet
type, which shows the decently dressed wife at the collective banquet amongst equals
reclining alongside her husband on the couch. Enjoying wine in public seems to have
become unfashionable for them during the sixth century,36 which is similar to what
happened in Rome. The motif of the mother with a small child generally had no
importance in wall paintings (this aspect took on weight in funerary art only from the
late fifth century onwards). It must be emphasized that beside these mixed-gender
banquets, purely male parties were normal too in Tarquinia from the beginning (thus,
for example, the symposion like party with participants lying on mattresses in the
Tomb of the Lionesses, ca. 520, and the drinking feast on klinai in the Tomb of the
Chariots, 490/480);37 the message that the individual tomb owner wished to transmit
with the painting was indeed decisive.
Naturally, gender-specific distinctions come to light more strongly in the pictorial
repertoire of the reliefs from Chiusi, which mostly relate to individual burials. Unfor-
tunately, the original archaeological context of these monuments is missing. To the
female sphere in the Late Archaic period belong scenes having to do with the funerary
ritual (especially prothesis scenes—including women as mourners—can be frequently
found38), a kind of gathering of women, and a few reliefs that may represent marriage
rituals.39 Oriented in the male direction are warriors and fighting scenes, the banquet
(often with exclusively male participants),40 athletic contests and the hunt, as well
as gatherings of men. The pictorial repertoire on the whole reflects a broader, urban-
style social class with a clear division of gender roles. This social model also contin-
ued in the painted chamber tombs of the first half of the fifth century, where banquet
scenes are found five times, always with exclusively male banqueters.41 More recent,
but comparable to an extent, are the grave stelae from Felsina/Bologna. For men,
these stress civic and military functions, while the pictorial repertoire for women
is substantially more limited, referring to a woman’s married or unmarried status
35 The wife seated on her own chair plays a role as pictorial motif in the imagery of the grave stelae
from Fiesole as well: Magi 1932, 46, no. 16; Magi 1933; de Marinis 1961, 30, no. 91–92. Stele from
Travignoli and stele bought at Sansepolcro: Amann 2000, 174–75; Amann forthcoming.
36 On this question see Amann 2000, 109–14, 154–55, 164. On women in Etruscan tomb painting see
most recently Scheffer 2007.
37 Steingräber 1985, 316–17, no. 77 and 289–91, no. 47.
38 See d’Agostino 1989, 3–4; 1993, 68–69. See in general Jannot 1984, 368–73.
39 This is certain for a relief in Chiusi dating ca. 490 BCE: Jannot 1984, 60, C. I. 30, fig. 203, cf. also 377,
380. Possibly also relating to a marriage context are a relief in Rome/Museo Barracco (Jannot 1984, 91,
C. III. 3, fig. 319) and one in Copenhagen/Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek (Jannot 1984, 82, C. II. 35, fig. 295).
40 Jannot 1984, esp. 362–68. The banquets with female participants, attested especially between
490/80 and 470 BCE and altogether not frequent, provide the opportunity for discussion of the status
of the women depicted (wives, courtesans). Cf. Amann 2000, 171–73.
41 Steingräber 1985, nos. 15, 17, 18, 22, 24.

994 Petra Amann
and strongly concentrating on the theme of the journey to the underworld (which
in Bologna was important).42 The banquet motif significantly no longer plays any
major role in this group of monuments (even if the idea of banqueting is still present
through grave goods).
Activities from the woman’s domestic sphere are entirely absent from the pictorial
repertoire of Etruscan vase painting of the second half of the sixth and first half of the
fifth centuries, which instead tended to portray Greek mythology, and furthermore
was mainly oriented toward the aristocratic-masculine world.43
3 On the integration of foreigners

Etruria’s involvement in the international trade and the attractiveness of its prosper-
ous metropolitan centers with their eager-to-shop inhabitants led, from the early
sixth century, to an increased presence of foreigners, especially Greeks, Phoenicians/
Carthaginians, Italics, and—occasionally—Celts. In the major harbor settlements,
the local authorities initially encouraged the presence of foreign merchants, espe-
cially Greeks and Phoenicians/Carthaginians. Inscriptions from sanctuaries in port
towns like Gravisca (with many Greek dedicatory inscriptions, including the Sostra-
tos anchor)44 and Pyrgi (with its famous gold tablets) suggest some kind of integra-
tion rather than separation, at least in the cult practise. Further epigraphic evidence
such as the tesserae hospitales from a wealthy tomb in the Santa Monica necropolis
in Carthage and from the St. Omobono district in Rome attest to agreements based on
the principle of hospitality with foreign merchants around the mid sixth century.45
In the earlier periods legal integration into the citizenry, at least for the foreigner’s
descendants, appears possible on an individual basis, as indicated inter alia by the
Celtic ancestor of the Katacina gens in Orvieto (ET² Vs 1.165).46 With consolidation of
the ruling classes, however, vertical social mobility generally became more difficult
beginning in the sixth and especially in the fifth century. Thus Lucumo, the son of the
wealthy Greek Demaratos and an Etruscan noble woman, according to the tradition
42 E. Govi in Sassatelli and Govi 2007, esp. 83, 91 (stela no. 169 is an exception). For the journey to the
underworld, cf. in Tarquinia the Tomb of the Blue Demons (probably last quarter of the fifth century),
discovered only in 1985: Adinolfi, Carmagnola and Cataldi 2005.
43 See the summary in Amann 2000, 141–44.
44 Cristofani 1996, 49–57; Torelli 2004. For Sostratos see also Hdt. 4.152.
45 Most recently Maggiani 2006, who also deals with the interesting finds from Murlo.
46 Due to the morphology of the Etruscan nomen gentile, early examples do not have a unique
interpretation, such as Rutile Hipucrates (ET² Ta 6.1, “Rutile of Hippokrates” or “Rutile Hipucrates”).
Cf. also larθaia telicles (ET² OA 2.2): de Simone 1968-1970, II, 228; Colonna 1975, 189. The number
of genuine Etruscan gentilicia derived from Greek personal names, however, is quite limited; see de
Simone 1968–1970, II, 251.

53 Society, 580–450 BCE 995
was not entitled to political offices in Tarquinia (Livy 1.5; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 3.47.1–
2).47 Economically powerful foreigners probably lived as free persons in Etruria, in the
manner of metics (resident aliens) or peregrini without political rights; in the mature
phase, however, most of the Greek sea merchants did not belong to the upper social
class.48 From 470–450 the presence of Greek merchants in the Etruscan core area
diminished (as is clear e.g. in the sanctuary of Gravisca), and shifted further north
toward the Po delta, with especially Spina exhibiting a considerable Greek presence.
Among the artisans of foreign origin, the situation was complex and must have
ranged from slaves (defined by their unfree personal status) to free foreigners to
perhaps fully integrated citizens. While foreign craftsmen in the Orientalizing period
(see chapter 34 Botto) probably reached Etruscan aristocratic residences as non-free
part of the gift trade, in the Archaic period East Greek emigrants played an important
role. This becomes clear in the vase paintings (the group of the Caeretan hydriae is
thus the product of one or two East Greek potter-painters who settled in Caere, for
example) and also in the wall paintings of Tarquinia. The artisans worked in organ-
ized workshops, with a workshop master and both free and non-free craftsmen of
both foreign and Etruscan origin (see below). Their signatures attest from early times
to a certain individual pride in craftsmanship. An important center for Etruscan vase
painting was Vulci, where between 480 and 460 BCE the Greek vase painter Praxias
(probably from southern Italy or eastern Sicily) had settled down and was maybe
legally well integrated (if the supposed man’s name Arnthe Praxias is in fact present;
this, however, is currently the subject of much discussion).49 The Greek craftsman
Metron, named by the Etruscan artists’ signature metru menece on a red-figured kylix
from Populonia (450–440; ET² Po 6.1), was probably free, but not a citizen.50 Since
there is no own nomen gentile, but also no patron’s gentilicium, he will have been a
kind of métoikos (resident alien).51
Prisoners of war and other prisoners often lost their personal freedom and served
their masters as slaves, primarily in private households and in factories/workshops.
From the Twelve Tables (3.5) we learn that after a specified period had elapsed,
47 See e.g. Musti 1987, 140–45.

48 See Reed 2003.
49 Amphora from the Praxias group with two Greek labels painted in the Chalcidian alphabet. de
Simone (1968-1970, II, 231−32, 242, 265) interprets arnthe as the name of the vase owner; differently
Colonna 1975, 188–89, establishes a connection between the two separate labels and recognizes them
as a binomial Etruscan personal name. See also Colonna 2014, esp. 61 with reference to other recent
opinions.
50 Colonna 1975, 190 localizes the workshop of metru, who was educated in Athens, in Vulci (because
of ‑ce instead of ‑ke in menece).
51 For discussion of the status of Greek craftsmen in Etruria, see also de Simone 1968–1970a, II, 259–
68. Secure Greek slave names in Etruscan are rare in the sixth and fifth centuries, e.g. tamum? de
Simone 1968–1970, II, 237, 265f.

996 Petra Amann
Roman debtors, even in the middle of the fifth century, could still be killed or sold
trans Tiberim peregre—probably meaning to Etruria. But large-scale slaveholding was
not found before the fourth century; in agricultural production, foreign slaves played
no significant role in pre-Hellenistic times.
A statue base from the last quarter of the sixth century that was discovered in
2008 in the Campo della Fiera sanctuary near Orvieto is of special interest.52 The
inscription records as the donor a female person named Kanuta, lautenitha (= freed-
woman) of the Larecena family and wife of Aranth Pinie. Kanuta could be an Italic-
Oscan name; the Etruscan nomen gentile larecena(s) is found in the Crocifisso del
Tufo necropolis (ET² Vs 1.51). This is a fairly large base (ca. 80 × 50 × 40 cm) for a
standing bronze figure that represents a rather costly dedication, which documents
the social rise of a formerly unfree or at least subordinated woman that was achieved
by marriage. The inscription represents by far the earliest attestation of the term
lautni(tha);53 it is unclear whether the archaic form is to be understood in the clas-
sical sense of liberta, or of familiaris (= belonging to the family). A kind of liberation
from the patron’s power must be accepted in any case. Let it be stressed that Old Italic,
and especially Sabellic, onomastic material is richly documented in Etruscan inscrip-
tions since early times, and demonstrates various forms of integration, not excluding
(especially in the early and, again, late periods) full citizenship.54
Natives, too, could have the status of a dependent or even an unfree person. In
the urban craftsman milieu this is assumed on the basis of the suffix -śa for the vase
painter kape mukathesa = “Kape, belonging to Mukathe” (amphora from the Vulci
workshop of the Micali Painter, ca. 500, ET² Vc 6.1) and perhaps also for aranth hera-
canasa = “Aranth, belonging to Heracana” (?), known from the Tomb of the Jugglers at
Tarquinia (530–520, ET² Ta 7.12).55 Dependency relations existed between parts of the
Etruscan rural population and the land-owning upper class, but are difficult to define
in their concrete legal dimensions because of the lack of sources. Nevertheless the
existence of a free peasantry with moderate land ownership in the later sixth and fifth
centuries must also be considered. Of especial interest is the bucchero inscription of
Laris Pataras from Casale Pian Roseto in the territory of Veii, whose binomial name
perhaps reveals to us the owner of the farm.56
52 Stopponi 2009, 441–49; ET² Vs 3.12: kanuta larecenas laute/nitha aranthia pinies puia turuce/
tluschval marvethul faliath/ere.
53 All of the other approximately 150 lautni inscriptions belong to the Late Etruscan period.
Fundamentally Rix 1963, 356–72; 1994, 96–111.
54 See with various results among others Torelli 1987, 46–47; Marchesini 1997, 146–66; Maggiani
2005, 47.
55 Of this opinion is Colonna 1975, 184–85 (“servo/autore delle pitture” [slave/creator of the
paintings]), 186–88 (evidence for the use of slaves of local origin in the ceramics industry); Colonna
2014, 58–60. But cf. ET² Ta 7.12 with another reading.
56 ET² Ve 2.7. Cf. Colonna 1990, 15–16.

53 Society, 580–450 BCE 997
From the mid fifth century on, especially in the coastal cities of southern Etruria,
there arose severe problems of an economic and probably also domestic political
nature. This brought about new conditions, undoubtedly affecting social organiza-
tion.
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54 Ritual and Cults, 580–450 BCE
Abstract: The rites and worship of the Archaic and Classical periods can be studied by focusing on
the increasing Hellenization of Etruria that began in the eighth century. First, the ways in which this
Hellenization took place are explained, paying particular attention to the sanctuaries of emporia like
those of Gravisca and Pyrgi. Then we show how this Hellenization took shape in the widening pan-
theon and in the sacrifices being performed that were meant for an extended family circle. Lastly the
conception of the beyond, human sacrifices, and city religious planning are considered as limits to
Hellenization.
Keywords: Sacrifices, deaths, emporia, beyond, pantheon
Introduction
During the Archaic and Classical periods, Etruscan rites and worship experienced a
profound transformation, but we do not know the details. Indeed, not only does no
literary text describe the Etruscan religious rites and practices of the time, but the
Archaic and Classical inscriptions, while decipherable, are difficult to understand.
We should therefore base our interpretation primarily on archaeological sources to try
to give an account of what seems to be the most striking fact of the Archaic and Clas-
sical periods: the continuation of the Hellenization of Etruscan practices and rituals
that had been in progress as early as in the eighth century BCE.
1 The paths to Hellenization

The paths to Hellenization are many. The essential factor seems to have been the con-
tacts made between the Greek and Etruscan aristocracies. As Mario Torelli writes,1
“Etruscan society found its ideal counterpart in Greek civilization, which was soon
adopted as a model for emerging aristocratic social setup styled on the Greek poleis.”
During banquets and ceremonies mixing Greeks and Etruscans, the oral transmission
of Greek songs, legends and epics took place. The important Greek texts and myths
were, it seems, recovered by Etruscans for local use. By definition, the signs of this
oral tradition are difficult to perceive, but their transcription is visible in the form of
figural repertoire on Etruscan artifacts, which is tantamount to observing the material
forms of this transmission.2 The links between Etruscan and Greek aristocrats might
1 Torelli 2000, 280.

2 Bonaudo 2004.
also have materialized by setting down offerings in the big Pan-Hellenic sanctuaries
of Delphi, Olympia and Dodona, where Etruscan bronze weapons and vases of the
eighth and early seventh centuries have been discovered.3
In the Archaic period, contacts between Greeks and Etruscans materialized
through the granting of specific areas, called emporia, for trade with foreigners. The
model seems to be Naucratis in Egypt, on a branch of the Nile, where Pharaoh Amasis
granted the Greeks the right to trade.4 In these emporia, as at Naucratis, a space was
left for sanctuaries, where foreigners were allowed to practice their religions. These
emporia that were also open to the Etruscans were used as vehicles for spreading
foreign religions, mostly Greek, all across Etruria.
The best-known Etruscan emporia are those of Gravisca and Pyrgi where excava-
tions have been carried out since the 1960s and are still producing surprises. Taking
these two examples, we will try to identify the particular forms taken by worship
and rituals in the Archaic and Classical periods under the influence of Hellenization.
Gravisca is perhaps the most ancient Etruscan emporium:5 among its customs were
Greeks who sought metallurgical products as early as the late seventh or early sixth
century. Recent excavations have shown that several dozen smelting furnaces were
active in the sanctuary as early as in the sixth century and that a ring of a dozen
furnaces surrounded the Archaic sacellum. This metallurgical activity had probably
a religious value for the Greeks, who honored Hephaistos as a multi-talented god—
magician, doctor, shaman, metallurgist and seer. The melting of metal, at that time,
was associated with sacrifices. The cavity of a furnace was filled with a layer of sand,
which contained the remains of sacrifices, animal bones, burnt wood, fragments of a
ceramic impasto olla, and a miniature Corinthian cup.
The association between metallurgy and religion was an argument for an identifi-
cation of the first cult goddess with Aphrodite, wife of Hephaistos, and for the opening
of the sanctuary by the Phoenicians. The latter are said to have offered a dinos in the
wild goats’ style dating from 620–610, a bronze cauldron, and a statue of an armed
goddess as an inaugural gift for the “opening” of the emporium. The presence of
foundries attracted many Greeks—often Ionians—until the late fifth century. At the
end of the sixth century, dedications of Aeginetans appeared among the inscriptions;
in the late sixth century, Sostratos from Aegina dedicated an anchor to Apollo. This
Aeginetan may be the same who made a dedication to Aphrodite in her sanctuary of
Naucratis and who grew rich by selling Attic vases and probably slaves, food products
and metals. The dedications also suggest a certain number of middlemen, naukleroi
and phortegoi, such as Hyblesios, a very rare name in Greek onomastics, which is
3 Naso 2000; 2006.

4 Möller 2000.

54 Ritual and Cults, 580–450 BCE 1003
also the name of a native dedicator on an Attic black-figure cup (band-cup) found at
Naucratis.
At Pyrgi, on the territory of Caere, the emporium received western Phoenicians.
Excavations have unearthed a Phoenician-language inscription, attesting the existence
of direct links between Caere and western Phoenicians in the 500s that resulted in a
major building program, which apparently made Pyrgi the most important Etruscan
sanctuary with two large, prestigious temples (Fig. 18.12). Indeed, in 1964 a triptych
of gold laminate plaques bearing bilingual inscriptions was found (Fig. 35.2). The two
languages were not, as one might have expected, Etruscan and Greek, but Etruscan
and Phoenician, and attested the dedication of Archaic Temple B by Thefarie Velianas,
ruler of Caere, to Astarte (the Phoenician mother-goddess) and Uni (the Etruscan Hera).
Spectacular as it may have been, the Phoenician inscription should not conceal the
extraordinary pervasiveness of Greek influence at Caere. True, the Phoenicians were
military allies and trading partners and were therefore granted one or more places of
worship, but they do not seem to have been the main and continuous reference inside
the sanctuary. When the Phoenician inscription was made and displayed between 510
and 490, the Greek model was obvious, for example, in the architecture of Temple B; the
Greek model still prevailed between 490 and 480, for the erection of Temple A.
Temple B, whose antefixes celebrate the sacred marriage of the Phoenician
goddess, was designed as a compromise between Greek and Etruscan architecture.
The peripteral plan of the temple in fact conforms to Greek models; it is built accord-
ing to a unit of measurement of 0.296 m, which corresponds to the attic foot that
was officially adopted in Athens at the time of Solon. Specifically, the influence could
be Siceliot because these features are reminiscent of the temples of Selinunte: the
plan and proportions of the adyton, the fact that it was probably raised, and the vast
area covered by lateral porticoes versus the cramped area of the cella. In addition,
Temple B borrows some of its patterns from Greek culture. The attachment to Greek
themes can be seen in some fragments of the ridgepole and of the mutuli of Temple B
that represents a mature man, a younger man, and a many-headed hydra—the victory
of Hercules helped by Iolaus over the hydra of Lerna—and in acroteria depicting char-
ioteers of the two heroes and in the short sides of the temple showing the labors of
Heracles. According to the legend, on the way back from the kingdom of Geryon Her-
cules stopped several times on the Etruscan coast, especially near Pyrgi. According
to Ovid (Fast. 6.501), he had the opportunity to snatch Leucothea and Palaemon from
furious Italic Maenads, and then assigned them to the Penates.
In Temple A, the use of the representation of Greek myths seems to be meant
to relate the city of Caere to idealized origins.6 Temple A is thus decorated with ref-
erences to Greek myths playing on equivalences between past and present. In the
late fifth century, on the great mutulus with relief of the back pediment, scenes of
6 Colonna 1996.

the Theban myth were represented: the duel between Tydeus and Melanippe, and
Capaneus killed by a thunderbolt from Zeus (Fig. 51.15). During a restoration after the
ransacking of the sanctuary by the troops of Dionysius, The main facade was then
decorated with an episode of the myth of Ino. Finally, the temple seems also to have
been dedicated to Astarte-Leucothea; an inscription with the name of Thesan, the
Etruscan Dawn, and another, carved on a black-glazed piece of broken glass from the
first half of the fourth century at the earliest, were found in near the building.
The reference to Greece is so overwhelming that, when the looting of Pyrgi by
Dionysius of Syracuse is mentioned, Leucothea or Eileithyia is presented by Greek
sources as the deity who is worshipped on the spot. Now the name of Leucothea trans-
mitted by Siceliot or Athenian sources used by pseudo-Aristotle ([Oec.] 2.1349b) is that
of a marine goddess charged with the education of young people, who is looked upon
in Phoenicia as an interpretatio Graeca of Astarte, with marine and maternal aspects.
For Raymond Bloch, two levels of assimilation should be distinguished. The first
makes Uni, identified with Astarte in the bilingual inscription, a Mater Matuta and a
Juno Lucina; the second makes these two Roman divinities Leucothea and Eileithuia.7
In the case of Leucothea, this assimilation is all the more likely because, according to
Ovid (Fast. 6.545–47), Hercules met Ino at the mouth of the Tiber in her Greek name
of Leucothea. However, there are doubts as to the existence of a Roman mediation at
a time when Phoenician-Punic people and Greeks had direct relations in the northern
area of the sanctuary.
2 Forms of Hellenization
As seen from the examples of Gravisca and Pyrgi, there are many ways to trace con-
tacts with the Greeks in the Etruscan religion: the arrival of new gods, the practice of
blood and bloodless sacrifices, votive offerings, and the architecture of temples and
shrines.
2.1 The arrival of new gods
The most striking form of Hellenization is the formation of an Etruscan pantheon that
has numerous connections with the Greek pantheon. Etruscan gods have a vague,
unclear, incomplete and seemingly contradictory character. They do not seem to have
a history, at least as the readers of Greek myths understood the word. They have mul-
tiple, sometimes antinomic functions, accumulated by the making of offerings and
7 Bloch 1969.

their successive strata. The gods are endowed with individuality and a personality to
look like men. Zeus, the Greek supreme deity with Uranian and paternal character,
became Tinia; Hera, Uni; Athena, goddess of fate and oracles, Menerva; Ares, Maris;
Poseidon, Nethuns; Hermes, Turms; Hephaistos, Sethlans; Dionysos, Fufluns; Helios,
Usil; Eos, Thesan; Aphrodite, Turan; and Demeter. Vei. Some Greek gods are even
mentioned “just as they are called,” with their name barely changed, in the Etruscan
pantheon. Apollo became Ap(u)lu; Artemis, Aritimi/Artume; Latona, Letun; Castor,
Castur; Pollux, Pultuce; Heracles, Hercle; Hades, Aita; Persephone, Phersipnai; and
Charon, Charun.8 The resemblances are at once onomastic and iconographic.
It would be a mistake, however, to consider the Etruscan pantheon a simple
peripheral copy of the Greek. Etruscan deities such as Culsans and Catha have no
Greek equivalent. Although Hercle possesses the characters of the Greek Heracles,
he is a god and not a hero, and has his own myths which are unknown in the Greek
world. He abducted a woman named Mlachuch; he is represented as a child sitting on
a raft of amphorae; he introduced his son Epiur to Tinia and became the adopted son
of Uni. Maris, whose name suggests comparison with Mars, does not have the char-
acter of the god of agriculture or war, and is never represented as Mars. In addition, a
number of deities are grouped in colleges or circles while having different names but
performing the same functions.9 Thus, the Roman Dii Consentes may have an Etrus-
can origin. It is no longer possible to think in terms of an “ordinary presence” of Greek
themes in Etruscan myths and iconography, as we used to a few years ago, as if the
Etruscans took on religious patterns without understanding them.
Etruscan artists and craftsmen knew the Greek mythical variations of the West
very well. They selected the topics that interested them, and integrated them into the
repertoire of Etruscan images, giving them a specific, political, symbolic, religious
or eschatological meaning in accordance with their beliefs, their needs and the situ-
ation.10
2.2 Blood and bloodless sacrifices
With the Hellenization of the pantheon, we can observe the regular practice of reli-
gious sacrifices in ways that partly resemble those used in Greece. Before becoming
an Etruscan peculiarity that would have given its name to the Etruscans (Lat. Tusci;
Isid. Etym. 9.2.86), sacrifices seem to have borrowed their forms from abroad. Our
knowledge of the stages in this transformation is poor, but it is reasonable to think
that the first forms of sacrifices on Etruscan territory are attested in Tarquinia under
8 Simon 2006.
9 Maras 1998.
10 Massa-Pairault 1992; Bonaudo 1999.

Cypro-Phoenician influence in the eighth century, and that they developed under the
influence of the East or colonial Greeks. Indeed, we can observe a change in prac-
tices—for example, the adoption of bloody sacrifices, the use of knives and axes, and
the adoption of bloodless sacrifices with bowls, oinochoai, paterae, cups, small cups,
thymiateria and tripods. The parallel with Greek practice is troubling. Since Etruscan
deities have the same attributes as their Greek counterparts, at least in some cases
well documented by paleozoological and paleobotanical analysis, they receive the
same kind of sacrifices as in the Greek world. Pigs are sacrificed to Uni and Vei; dogs
are sacrificed to Turan.11
As in the Greek world, sacrifices were performed not only in a private environ-
ment, but also in larger groups and in public places, where, from the end of the fifth
century, local issues played a prominent role. Private sacrifices were performed in
houses, like in Accesa (Massa Marittima), where a three-room house dating from
the first half of the fifth century, contained an impasto olla, full of thirty miniature
impasto and bucchero kyathoi, which was placed against a wall of the smallest room.
The ceremonies were extended to the clan or to the gens in the case of a funeral.12
The body of the deceased was perfumed with ointments and viewed in a room of the
house prepared for the occasion, where family members gave way to expansive dem-
onstrations of grief.
The exposition of the body, called prothesis in Greek is represented on a relief
from Chiusi dating to the early fifth century. The body is depicted on a ceremonial
bed placed under a tent, on several mattresses and partly covered with a heavy cloth.
Men at the foot of the bed lift their hands to their brows as a sign of mourning. A child
is lifted to the height of the deceased’s face, and an aulos player stands on a stool.13
Women wear their hair loose, their hands lifted to their faces or beating their breasts.
The body is moved from the bed and honored with banquets and funeral games that
were organized, it seems, on the Homeric model, sometimes on steps near the tomb,
as in Grotta Porcina (Vetralla) and in the tomb of Cuccumella in Vulci (both first half
of the sixth century).
In Vulci, the Cuccumella tomb was preceded by a 9 m wide open-air space,
equipped with tiers on three sides, on which the persons taking part in the funerary
ceremonies sat. In Grotta Porcina, we find a theatre, which is a place of worship. It
is approximately 12 m wide by 15 m long, with tiers on three sides; in its center it has
a circular altar, 6.2 meter in diameter, adorned with animal figures in relief, with a
slope giving access to it. As shown by the channel dug on the southwest side, animals
were sacrificed in the presence of the people who took seats on the tiers to attend the
ceremony. This “theatre” marked the heart of a cemetery area and must have accom-
11 Sorrentino 2004.
12 Emiliozzi 1997.
13 Jannot 1984, 90–92, no. 3, fig. 318.

modated large gatherings for funerary ceremonies. Temporary wooden structures

designed to welcome spectators are reproduced on game scenes on the delle Bighe
Tomb at Tarquinia (late sixth—early fifth century).14 This is a difference from the Ori-
entalizing period, when the open-air spaces were only provided for the family of the
deceased and above all, had to be the expression of a gentilic cult.
The body of the deceased was then cremated or buried, and pieces of furniture
were set down in the tomb. When the body of the deceased was cremated, the pyre
was placed near the tomb, as shown by the presence of ustrina near pit burials. Cer-
emonies may also have taken place also to honor dead ancestors, as shown by some
Orientalizing and Archaic tombs at Caere that contain thrones for the ancestors. This
is confirmed by the vocabulary of funerary inscriptions including words such as apa,
apas, apasi, and apires, which may be compared with the Latin parentes, Parenta-
lia, and parentare. Some necropolises house sanctuaries or structures shaped like
shrines, intended for the cult of the dead or the ancestors and the cult of chthonic
and infernal divinities. Thus the sanctuary of the cemetery of La Cannicella in Orvieto
displays several houses of worship, altars, basins, fountains, a canal network,
statue bases and numerous architectural terra-cotta ware.15 Essentially, divinities of
chthonic nature like Vei, Thanr, and Faunus-Heracles were worshipped and offered
sacrifices (see chapter 18 Maras). The link between the mortal world and the divine
world was established through sacrifices on a tufa bench, in which a well was dug
and covered with a lid, above a grave. In Capua, the sanctuary of Fondo Patturelli,
where altars and aediculea were also numerous, was also a necropolis sanctuary (see
chapter 74 Bellelli).
2.3 Votive offerings
Like the Greeks, the Etruscans of the Archaic and Classical period strongly competed
to offer the gods tokens of a vow or of gratitude in the form of sacrifices.16 These dem-
onstrations of piety displayed in shrines have many forms: actual size or miniature
(and therefore symbolic) sacrifice plates, first fruits or shares of the harvest, tithing
(dekate) in the form of a metal object, a statue or statuette representing the dedica-
tor himself performing a sacrifice, the deity to whom the offering was made, or an
episode of the etiological myth. In the late sixth century, the kings and tyrants who
liked to compare their actions to those of the heroes showed their piety with impos-
ing ex-votos, such as a terracotta group of statues of Hercle and Menerva dating to
14 Colonna 1993.
15 Roncalli 1994.
16 Maras 2009 on offerings with inscriptions.

510–500, set up in the sanctuary of Portonaccio at Veii, one of the most imposing
sanctuaries of the Archaic period.
It was there, between 520 and 500, that a large temple dedicated to Menerva
was erected in an enclosure where other cults are attested. It is as wide as it is long
(18.50 m), and presents a postica part slightly larger than the antica part. It is divided
into three cellae, and was decorated with terra-cotta plaques in bas relief meant to
mask the wooden structure, a sculpted pediment, and big acroterial figures. The acro-
teria are laid out to cover the whole length of the temple. Some important finds were
the head and the shoulders of a Turms-Hermes, a large size statue of Apollo, a Latona
holding in her arms Apollo as a child who has just shot his arrows into Python the
snake, and a Heracles capturing the hind of Ceryneia. All the statues evoke Apollo
as a symbol of an order vanquishing disorder. The Portonaccio cult received numer-
ous dedications to Menerva and there may have been other goddesses as well, such
as Aritimi/Artemis and Turan/Aphrodite, according to a bucchero vessel. Another
offering, a bucchero box dedicated by Laris Velkasnas, was possibly intended to hold
sortes for divination. Votives have been dedicated by famous historical figures. For
example, the mercenaries of the late seventh and sixth centuries are represented by
a bucchero chalice dedicated by Aulus Vibenna. The Tulumnes family, known for the
fifth-century King Tolumnius, who precipitated conflicts with Rome, is also repre-
sented. The sanctuary may have housed a school for scribes because the inscriptions
of the sanctuary are notable for a distinctive syllabic punctuation and neat lettering.17
2.4 The architecture of temples and shrines
The Hellenization of gestures goes hand in hand with a progressive monumentaliza-

tion of the places of worship on a Greek model.18 Sanctuaries were erected in an urban
and suburban environment, near the cities.19 The sanctuaries were now delimited by
an enclosure (temenos) marking the limits of the territory dedicated to the gods. It
was marked on the territory by a wall with one or more doors, as at Pyrgi, where entry
was through a propylon door, or through boundary stones (horoi), as in Bolsena. They
were now organized around one or more altars (bomoi) on which sacrifices were made
and a focolare pit for chthonic rites.20 The location and construction of Greek temples
followed Greek canons. Temples with Greek appearance were erected. Initially they
were simple wooden naoi consisting of a long single room that sometimes ended with
an apse. This is the case of the Temple of Piazza d’Armi, with an 18 m long and a
17 Moretti Sgubini 2001, 39.

18 Colonna 2006.
19 Colonna 1985.
20 Steingräber and Menichelli 2010.

slightly more than 6 m wide cella, which opened to the outside on one of the short
sides and whose roof structure was protected by terra-cotta slabs with embossed dec-
oration. Subsequently, the major civic cults of Polias multiplied between the late sixth
and early fifth centuries in southern Etruria.
Finally, Hellenization played a seminal role in the spread through Etruria of the
Orphic and Pythagorean religious doctrines in the fifth century; images of the Etrus-
can Hades, as seen in the painted tombs of Tarquinia, have a marked Greek flavor. For
the Etruscans, the journey into the bowels of the earth was plagued by demons and
myriad dangers.
3 Etruscan characters
Recent research values Etruscan originality, and show the selection and adapta-
tion of Greek models. The differences between Greek models and Etruscan realities
are not just formal; they can also be explained by the Etruscan conception of the
relations between men and gods. The Etruscan underworld is very different from
the Greek Hades. The Etruscans worshipped a plural form of Charun with varying
names (Charun, Charun chunchulis) and varying visual forms (sometimes with wings,
sometimes without). Charuns are accompanied by minor infernal forces unknown in
Greece, probably of local invention, such as Lasa, Vanth and Tuchulcha.
For the Etruscans, there is a mystical correspondence between templa in caelo, in
terris and sub terra; that is, there is a coexistence of supernatural forces in the celes-
tial spheres, on earth, and in the underworld. For example, Etruscan temples are sup-
posed to represent on the ground and as a permanent structure the portion belonging
to the gods of heavens, since, strictly speaking, an Etruscan temple is an effatus ager,
a space free from divine powers, limited by its angles and enhanced by the podium.
Another difference could be the practice of human sacrifices in exceptional cases.
Phocean prisoners were killed at Caere in 535 (Hdt. 1.167); Theodotus of Lipari was
slain during the Etruscan conquest (Callim. Aet. fr. 93 Pfeiffer), and the Romans were
massacred in Tarquinia in 358 (Livy 7.15.10). These can be considered exceptional
cases because at Caere, according to Herodotus, the murder of the Greeks was con-
sidered a religious crime because it caused a plague that the people of Caere had to
expiate by organizing games in honor of the dead Greeks and by the construction of a
sanctuary near site of the murder.
We should not overlook the Faliscan, Latin and Umbrian contributions to the for-
mation of Etruscan cults and rituals. Of evident Latin extraction are the gods linked to
man’s reproductive power and to nature, and hence to the primordial landscape and
the earliest notions of agricultural cycles: Vetis/Veive-Vediovis, Ana-Anna Perenna,
Satre-Saturnus, Uni-Juno; of Faliscan origin are Suris-Soranus; of Umbrian influence,
Vesuna.

Thus, some scholars underline the importance of Etruscan settlements in Po-area

Etruria, where forms of Etruscan religious organization are thought to be visible.21
In the sixth century, Etruscans from Perugia, Chiusi, Volterra, and so on migrated to
northern Italy (Marzabotto, Felsina, Spina, Adria, Mantua) and founded cities where
they performed rites that differed somewhat from those of the Greeks. If the orthogo-
nal plan of the city resembles that of the cities of Magna Graecia, the general Etrus-
can conception of urban planning depends on religious principles. At the junction
of the two largest streets, a stone marked with a cross facing the cardinal points of
the compass was found. Above all, in a place of the acropolis overlooking the city,
there are remains of walls that are thought to be an auguraculum and an altar with a
mundus, a tripartite temple, another altar with a molded base and access stairs.
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273–89. Milan: Bompiani.

Hilary Becker
Abstract: This chapter reviews the evidence for the mainstays of the Etruscan economy during the
Archaic and early Classical periods. In order to form a picture of the domestic economy, Etruscan
agricultural production as well as the collection and processing of metal resources are considered.
The economy of this period is also robust due to the system of cabotage along the Etruscan coast and
the emporia that flourished at this time. Important evidence can be gleaned about the littoral trade by
reviewing evidence from these emporia, as well as shipwrecks, epigraphic and iconographic sources,
and the ubiquitous “Etruscan pirates.” Different methods of exchange, from bartering to the use of
coinage, which first appears in this time, is also presented. While this period marks a highpoint for
Etruscan international commerce, beginning in the early fifth century, the pattern of international
trade changes significantly. This chapter assesses this changing commercial scene in southern coastal
Etruria as well as in northern areas (i.e. Populonia and the Po Plain).
Keywords: Agriculture, coinage, economy, emporia
Introduction
Etruria is often thought of as a loose grouping of city-states that did not have a federal
organization. The regional diversity can be identified thanks to the different months
used in Etruscan calendars, or by the fact that some city-states may have two epon-
ymous zilath (chief magistrates) while others have only one.1 But even economic
exchanges do not seem to be uniform across Etruria, as the standards of weights and
coinage could both vary.2 The economic experience was not uniform across Etruria
as the city-states enjoyed varied trade routes and local products. This diversity is
perhaps best expressed in the seminal time of the Archaic and early Classical periods,
when many Etruscan centers were at the height of their commercial power. When
there was a sudden downturn in commercial contact along the Tyrrhenian shores at
the end of the Archaic period, the economy of some Etruscan territories suffered del-
eterious effects, while other Etruscan centers continued unchanged or even experi-
enced expansion; these transitions are explored in this chapter and elsewhere (see
chapter 61 Becker).
1 Becker 2013.
2 Maggiani 2002. See chapter 28 Maggiani.
1014 Hilary Becker
1 Etruscan Resources
Products including cereals, wine, and livestock were undoubtedly the mainstays of
the agricultural economy of Etruria. Due to the ephemeral nature of these products,
it is impossible to make a quantitative analysis of productive capacity during the
Archaic period. In Roman times, the fecundity of Etruscan soil was legendary. Dio-
dorus Siculus (5.40.3–5) wrote that the soil of Etruria was moist in both winter and
summer and capable of bearing every crop. Varro (Rust. 1.44.1) believed that seeds
planted in Etruscan soil (Tusci campi) would produce substantially more in volume
compared with other regions.3 Certainly there would have been variation in the agri-
cultural economies across Etruria, and that much is clear from the different contribu-
tions given by the Etruscan city-states in 205 BCE to support the fleet of Scipio (Livy
28.45.13–18). This is also clear in coastal Southern Etruria, where both Caere and Vulci
produced enough surplus wine in the sixth century that the transport amphorae from
each have been found abroad. For example, the archaic shipwreck at Antibes had
amphorae from Caere, whereas the shipwreck at Bon-Porté had wine amphorae from
Vulci.4 In contrast, Tarquinia did not produce significant amounts of wine.
The farmhouse excavated at Podere Tartuchino (near Saturnia) provides an
opportunity to understand what agricultural life was like during the Archaic period
and beyond (Fig. 55.1). This farm had two phases stretching from the late sixth to
the late fourth century. The house had a portico and a courtyard, which could have
been used for both farming and domestic activities.5 The farm once had mixed crops,
including spelt. Such a varied strategy would have given variety to the inhabitants’
diet and protected them against the potential of blight destroying a single crop.
The remains of a large pithos with a protective interior coating of resin, as well
as hundreds of carbonized grape seeds, indicate that wine may have been produced
here, even if at a small scale. The pithos, which once held ca. 350 liters, can be helpful
in determining the farm’s potential productive capacity with respect to wine. It is pos-
sible that wine could be produced in multiple batches (as many as five to six fer-
mentations) each season. If the pithos was used each time wine was fermented, as
many as 1,575–1,890 liters of wine could have been made each year—an amount that
would far exceed the consumptive needs of the residents of the house (estimated at
4 adults). Even if the pithos was filled only once per annum, a surplus would probably
still remain. In either case, any leftover wine could have been traded for whatever was
not made locally (such as the nails, soapstone beads, or ceramics found at the site).
3 Quod tantum valet regio ac genus terrae, ut ex eodem semine aliubi cum decimo redeat, aliubi cum
quinto decimo, ut in Etruria locis aliquot.
4 Gras 1986, 146.
5 Perkins and Attolini 1992, 111.

55 Economy, 580–450 BCE 1015
Fig. 55.1: Farm house at Podere Tartuchino, reconstruction of the Phase II building.
(after Perkins and Attolini 1992, fig. 22)
Another settlement that provides a window into life and economy is at Lago dell’Accesa,
a mining settlement of the Archaic period near modern Massa Marittima. The site was
ideally situated close to mines, a lake, and a river. The proximity of the residences to
the mining area has prompted excavators to suggest that the directors of the mines
lived there.6 The proceeds from the mining activities (and perhaps other ventures)
allowed the residents to have imports from outside the local area in their homes and
tombs, including amber, Etrusco-Corinthian pottery, Attic vessels, in addition to local
materials.7 Residents were also able to extract many of the resources they needed
from the surrounding area, as exemplified by a fishing weight which was found in one
house and also by spears for hunting, which were found in many tomb assemblages.
Inside complex X, 20 loom weights have been discovered, providing evidence for the
domestic production of textiles at the site.8 It is also thought that the wooded area
now surrounding the site may have been cut back in antiquity, providing wood fuel
for metal-working. A bronze device that may have been a pruning tool for vines was
6 Camporeale, Canocchi and Donati 1985, 170.

8 Camporeale, Canocchi and Donati 1985, 134–35.

1016 Hilary Becker
also found near the river.9 While the residents of these houses were participating in
an industry that would potentially send their refined metals far afield, it is interesting
to note that while their trade enabled them to import goods, like their peers at Podere
Tartuchino, they were able to produce at least some of their daily needs locally.
A glance at a map of Etruria reveals that during the Archaic period many minor
settlements existed, in addition to the chief cities, which would have helped to absorb
some of the surplus agricultural products of the surrounding farms from their catch-
ment area and potentially to serve as places of exchange. In the last decades of the
sixth century, for example, the areas around Castro (Vulci) and the valley of the
Mignone (Caere) both saw an increase in the number of minor settlements, allowing
for much more intense agricultural production.10 These minor settlements may be
connected to members of the aristocracy who acquired rural land during this time and
who had connections to the major centers. The presence of aristocrats in some areas
has been indicated by the construction of funerary monuments, such as the chamber
tomb built near the small hilltop settlement at Poggio la Croce (Fiesole).11
In addition to the agricultural fecundity of Etruria, significant mineral resources
were also present. Paul Craddock notes that “virtually all the metals of antiquity
with the exception of gold are represented” in Etruria.12 The distribution of these
mines was laid out in such a way that many important centers were close to mines
(see chapter 25 Zifferero). Caere and Tarquinia were near Monti della Tolfa, Vetulonia
near the Colline Metallifere, Populonia near the Campigliese and Volterra was near
to mines in the Val di Cecina. Populonia in particular had long been an important
center of processing and redistribution for the metal-rich areas of inland Etruria, but
its economic orbit expanded in the Archaic period. For it was in the second half of
the sixth century that the iron from the nearby metal-rich island of Elba began to be
imported into the Porto Baratti in raw form so that it could be processed at Populonia.
Strabo (5.2.6) explains that the reason for this change was that on-site furnaces at
Elba could not process the ore sufficiently.13 At the same time, an industrial quarter
was built outside Populonia’s walls at Poggio della Porcareccia, which had different
areas for habitation and production.14 The regularized placement of the industrial
quarter and adjacent habitations inside the urban plan suggests the city’s involve-
ment in this area.15 A natural question then relates to who or what controlled the
industry at Populonia. Did the wealthy elite or the state direct this production, did

10 Naso, Rendeli and Zifferero 1989, 544, 553.
11 Cresci and Viviani 1995, 146.
12 Craddock 1984, 212.
13 It may be that there were not sufficient timber resources at Elba to heat the furnaces to the correct
temperature, as is addressed below.
14 Martelli 1981a, 158.
15 Sassatelli 1996, 109. See also Martelli 1981a, 158.

55 Economy, 580–450 BCE 1017
they work in harmony, or were these two groups, at this early period, indistinguish-
able? Certainly, a synergy between these two groups might have been important to
protect these resources from foreign powers (e.g. raiding Syracusans) in the centuries
that followed (Diod. Sic. 11.88.4–5; 15.14.3).
Populonia was not the only site where Elban ore was processed, as a series of
small- and medium-sized refineries existed in the hinterland of Populonia and Vetu-
lonia.16 Follonica (località Rondelli) was one of those sites, and, like the area of Poggio
della Porcareccia at Populonia, there was both an industrial area for processing iron,
and a habitation area adjacent to it.17 One thousand kg of slag were found there, as
well as twenty-one furnaces (although the excavators believe that there could have
been even more furnaces). In addition, a lead and bronze weight (315.41 g) was found
there that might have been used for weighing and trading the refined iron.18 One of
the advantages of this informal network of processing sites is that their fuel supply
of charcoal would have been plentiful, as the coastline was wooded. A large quantity
of charcoal is needed to reach the high temperatures (ca. 1060°–1300° C) required for
metal smelting and iron working.19
After the metal had been smelted at Populonia, Follonica, and other sites, Dio-
dorus Siculus explains (5.13.1), this refined product was exported by merchants “in
exchange either for money or for goods” and brought to Dicaearchia (modern Pozzu-
oli) or other trading centers (emporia) and worked by artisans there.20 And while Dio-
dorus gives the impression that raw iron was transported elsewhere to be processed,
we know that at least some of it was forged locally. For example, the habitation of
Fonteblanda (near ancient Talamone), a site nearly 1 km from the coast, which was
busy with the trade coming from inland areas toward the coast, had a blacksmith’s
workshop that worked Elban iron (see chapter 26 Corretti).21
16 Elban hematite in its raw form, dated to the sixth and fifth centuries, has also been found at Pisa
and Genoa (Corretti and Taddei 2001, 254).
17 Aranguren et al. 2004. The last phase of the site, which is best understood, dates to the first
decades of the sixth century to the beginning of the fifth.
18 Maggiani 2002, 169.
19 Cristofani 1986, 123; Craddock 1984, 216; Cucini 1992.
20 Diodorus’s emphasis on currency may reflect his first-century BCE perspective, although some
coinage may have been used. Note that Dicaearchia was not founded until ca. 530 BCE (Hegesander
FHG 4, 421 fr. 44; Steph. Byz. s.v. Dicaearchia; Strabo 5.4.6; Ciampoltrini and Firmati 2002, 35).
21 Ciampoltrini and Firmati 2002; Aranguren, Ciampoltrini, Cortesi, et al. 2004, 328–30. It is possible
that Fonteblanda may be one of the alternate trading centers to which Diodorus refers. Fonteblanda
was occupied for a few decades from the late sixth to the early fifth century.

1018 Hilary Becker
2 Etruscan trade at the ports and foreign contacts

It is clear that Etruria had, at that time, agricultural products and raw and finished
metal goods to trade, as well as a settled landscape composed of city-states that were
strong enough to protect their economic interests from potential maritime raiders. The
foreign contacts that first developed along the Etruscan littoral to handle the export of
Etruria’s agricultural products and raw and finished metal goods in the Orientalizing
period continued into the Archaic period. The southern cities of Caere, Tarquinia,
and Vulci continued to export the majority in metals that originated from the Colline
Metallifere, Elba, and elsewhere in Etruria. But these southern cities did not develop
directly on the coastline, and while this circumstance protected them from piracy
and afforded each city with natural defense and easy access to rivers, they were thus
removed from direct trade. In the Orientalizing period, any traders would have had to
travel to the cities themselves to trade for resources, but in the sixth century, trading
emporia were developed along the coast by these cities and their elites. Such emporia
would provide a trading port that could be used by merchants passing through or
lingering, as well as by the native inhabitants. Each of these trading ports also had at
least one sanctuary whose god(s) would serve to mediate the space so that all might
feel more comfortable trading near this sanctified space, whether one worshipped,
for example, the Etruscan goddess Uni or Punic Astarte.
Tarquinia’s emporium at Graviscae offered multiple sanctuaries, including one
to Aphrodite. This sanctuary thrived from around 600 to 480, and Greek inscriptions
demonstrate that visitors appeared to be from different areas of East Greece (espe-
cially Samos, Ephesus, and Miletus) and beyond.22 These visitors sought the help of
Aphrodite, who in other Mediterranean contexts is associated with aiding navigation,
as well as other Olympian gods.23 But interestingly, a sixth-century Etruscan inscrip-
tion was dedicated to Turan, the nearest Etruscan equivalent to Aphrodite, thus indi-
cating the international scope of this sanctuary at Graviscae. This sanctuary was
prominent enough to attract a Greek named Sostratos, who dedicated a stone anchor
and who may well have been the very successful merchant who made a large profit in
cargo abroad and came to be immortalized by Herodotus (4.152). This same Sostratos
may have also been an important importer of Attic vases to Etruria in the late sixth
century.24
The sanctuaries associated with the emporia certainly had an active economic
life. Just to give an indication of this, Rome’s early treaty with Carthage prohibited
Rome from trading or buying things past the Fair Promontory of Carthage, but an
exception was made for vital needs, such as repairing one’s ship or for sacrifices
22 Haynes 2000, 172.

23 Demetriou 2010.
24 Johnston 1972; Harvey 1976.

55 Economy, 580–450 BCE 1019
(Polyb. 3.22.5). Making dedications to the gods is something that sailors did, and such
sacred commerce at the emporia would have provided a comfortable intercultural
scene for people of different languages and cultures to connect to trade products,
customs, and ideas.
The unusual fresco of the Tomb of the Ship (mid fifth century BCE) from Tarquinia
helps us visualize the key stages of exchange that transpired in Etruscan emporia,
serving as visual documentation of a key socioeconomic phenomenon that no doubt
transpired at many commercial sites along the Tyrrhenian seaboard (Fig. 51.8). The
fresco scene depicts a merchant ship pulling in its sails and nearing the port while
being saluted by a richly dressed man on shore. Near this individual is a kylikeia, a
stand full of different types of Attic vases.25 Even though the intrinsic value of vases
continues to be debated, it is clear that to the family that owned this tomb, these
products carried important socio-economic valence.26 One intriguing and unanswer-
able question is what the arriving ship might have carried in its hold. Was the vessel
bringing more Attic vases to Tarquinia, such as those depicted in the fresco, and/or
other imported products? In return, would this ship have picked up items such as
metal ingots or grain?
The banquet, which the Attic vases helped to facilitate, served to underscore
the prominent social status of the tomb occupant and/or his family. Each banquet
would have displayed the wealth (and some of the products of trade) that was made
possible by the tomb owner’s own involvement in trade. It is also possible to specu-
late about the relationship between the merchants and the individual waiting at the
shore. It is very likely that foreign merchants had connections with particular elite
citizens in each city, which may have involved hospitality, the sharing of lodging,
or gift exchange. It is because of such social institutions that Demaratus of Corinth
might have known that he would be well-received by fellow aristocrats in Tarquinia,
and such social connections would have facilitated the movements of Etruscans into
other regions.27 It may be that the merchants sailing into Tarquinia on the fresco of the
Tomb of the Ship are about to be hosted at the very banquet depicted in that scene.
With practices like hospitality, it may be possible that the Tarquinian depicted on this
fresco may not ever have had to travel beyond Etruria to nurture trade relationships
with foreign partners.
25 van der Meer 1984; Spivey 1991, 136–37.

26 Vickers and Gill 1994. A different interpretation of these paintings has been suggested by Colonna
2005.
27 Winter 2002, 229.

1020 Hilary Becker
3 Etruscan trade abroad

These Etruscan ports and emporia were engaged in a trade that not only came to their
shores for raw materials, but that continued along a coastal route to southern France
and beyond. Small ships would make stops at the different emporia of Etruria, picking
up and dropping off goods (the practice of cabotage). This scenario is revealed by the
sixth-century transport amphorae found at Graviscae.28 As mentioned in section 1,
Tarquinia was not significantly engaged in wine export, but her neighbors were. Since
the port-to-port trade traveled northward, it is not surprising to find that a significant
number of the amphorae found there were made at Caere and not Vulci, not counting
all the imported wares found there.29 Thus Graviscae is not a port only for the goods
of Tarquinia, but a “relay” point for coastal exchange.
This exchange route is in fact marked by contemporary shipwrecks that bore not
only Etruscan goods, but also other products from around the Mediterranean, which
are representative of this port-to-port trade. For example, a shipwreck (600–590) near
the island of Giglio contained items that can be traced to Etruscan, East Greek, Corin-
thian, and Punic sources. Other shipwrecks, those from Bon Porté (540 and 510) and
that from Cap d’Antibes (560–550), and the Grand Ribaud F wreck (500–475), also had
similarly mixed cargos.30 The evidence from the Giglio shipwreck confirms our under-
standing, which is that vessels, probably of small size, stopped at many ports along
the Tyrrhenian coast, visiting ports of call in Campania, Latium, Etruria, and beyond,
all the time acquiring new cargo and dropping off items.31
Etruscan ports and emporia were clearly not passive hosts and traders but were
engaged in this long-distance trade. In Greek, the word “Tyrrhenian” was often syn-
onymous with “pirate” because of the Etruscans’ prowess at sea.32 Their power was
so strong into the fifth century that Dionysius of Halicarnassus (Ant. Rom. 1.11) named
them thalassokratores, “masters of the sea.” Cato even believed that, at that time,
almost all of Italy was under their control.33 It could be that in some cases, when the
Etruscans acted in defense of the control of preferred trading routes (e.g. Battle of
Alalia) or the metal ores, this behavior could be construed as piracy.
The Carthaginians, the most famous seafaring traders of the Mediterranean world
in their time, evidently had a symbiotic relationship with the Etruscans. We know
this because of a treaty that existed between the Carthaginians and the Etruscans
(Arist. Pol. 3.5.10–11). Aristotle mentions that this treaty involved Etruscans, but since
28 Gras 1985, 325–36; Gras 1986, 145–6.

29 Gras 1986, 145–6.
30 Perkins 1999, 178; Bound 1985; Bound and Vallintine 1983.
31 Gras 2000, 105–06; Long, Gantès and Rival 2006; Turfa 2008.
32 Ormerod 1978, 153. See also Diod. Sic. 5.40.1.
33 Serv. ad Aen. 11.567: Tuscorum iure paene omnis Italia fuerat.

55 Economy, 580–450 BCE 1021
each city-state was independent, it is likely that each of the coastal city-states active
in maritime trade (i.e. namely Caere and Vulci) would have had its own treaty with
Carthage.34 Polybius (3.22.4–13) mentions an early treaty (509) between Rome and
Carthage that had specific provisions about where Romans could trade. It is possible
that the diplomatic and contractual agreements between city-states in Etruria and
Carthage also addressed “spheres of trade.” Archaeological evidence may support
this idea of a commercial agreement, as Etruscan goods are not found west of Cadiz
in Spain.
The Caeretans famously attempted to flex their naval power when they united
forces with the Carthaginians against Alalia (Aleria) at Corsica in 540. For it seems
that new colonists in Alalia (e.g. Phocaeans) had been encroaching on the trade
routes of the Etruscans and Carthaginians, and thus in the context of this naval battle
the colonists were viewed as the pirates (Hdt. 1.167). This battle resulted in the aban-
donment of Alalia by the Phocaeans.35 The Carthaginians also took advantage of the
religious aspects of the emporia, such that the dedicatory hammered gold plaques
(ca. 500) at Pyrgi had text written in both Etruscan and Punic. These plaques show
how a goddess (Uni or Astarte, literally Unialastres, i.e. “Uni-Astarte” in the Etruscan
version) helped the local tyrant Thefarie Velianas of Caere (Fig. 35.2).
The Etruscan presence in the western Mediterranean is attested by the presence
of inscriptions at sites such as Saint-Blaise, Lattes, Collège Vieux-Port de Marseille,
and even Ampurias.36 Etruscan participation in trade was made more real by the dis-
covery of the Pech Maho plaque (near Narbonne). This is a contract from the first half
of the fifth century written in Etruscan that mentions kisne, the Etruscan word for
“down payment”, and Massalia (Matalia, possibly an origin or destination). Etruscan
individuals (a Venel and an Utavu) are mentioned on the Etruscan text.37 This inscrip-
tion was written on the reverse side of a similar commercial contract in Greek, this
time discussing the purchase of goods from Emporitans. Were contracts standard for
Etruscans like Venel who traded in the Mediterranean? And for Venel’s counterparts
in mainland Etruria, were contracts used at the Etruscan emporia or for commerce
further inland? To date, the only other recognizable Etruscan contracts deal with
private land and date to the Hellenistic period (the Cortona tablet and the Perugia
cippus: see chapter 67 Becker).
34 Turfa 1977, 373.

35 Haynes 2000, 201–02.
36 Gran Aymerich 2009.
37 Cristofani 1993, 834–35; Colonna 1988, 552. Colonna observes that the family name Utavu originates
from Perugia and the Ager Faliscus. Cristofani believed that Utavu was a Latin individual.

1022 Hilary Becker
4 Methods of exchange
Coinage, which began to be used in the Archaic period, was never the predomi-
nant means of exchange in Etruria, so much so that it is not clear that all Etruscan
cities even minted coins (see chapter 27 Catalli). Bartering, then, would have been a
primary means for Etruscans to acquire what they did not produce themselves. One
of the simplest transactions would be the exchange of surplus goods among neigh-
bors, either at the home or at a property boundary, transactions categorized by Colin
Renfrew as “home base reciprocity” and “boundary reciprocity” respectively.38 But
sometimes a simple exchange would not have sufficed, for instance if a consumer
wanted to buy sandals and only had spelt, but the sandal maker did not need any
spelt. More complex bartering could then be employed for “down-the-line trade,”
trading product A for B, B for C, and so on. Such an activity could result in a product
traveling a considerable distance.
Metal offered an attractive alternative to an agricultural society because it pro-
vided a means to store surplus over a much longer time, whereas surplus spelt, for
example, only had a limited duration. Two pre-monetary forms of exchange existed
before the introduction of standardized coinage, aes rude and aes signatum; neither
of these was currency per se, but the quality and quantity of the metal would have
been a factor in their exchange.39 Aes rude was found primarily in the form of rough
lumps but also was fused into bars or plates. A small piece of aes rude from the plow
soil of the farm at Podere Tartuchino may indicate an instance of surplus exchange.40
Excavations at Bagnolo San Vito, in the Po Valley, have uncovered 343 pieces of aes
rude.41 What is interesting about this sample is that there is a sufficient quantity
available to study and compare, and with that in mind, no clear weight systems have
emerged. Instead, it can be imagined that when these pieces were traded, they would
have been weighed individually in order to determine their intrinsic value.
Aes rude is often found in context together with aes signatum, and they could
clearly be used interchangeably. The advantage of aes signatum is that it is a bar of
bronze, characterized by a countersign on its face that guarantees the quality and
weight of the metal by a particular authority. Servius Tullius is credited with introduc-
ing aes signatum to Rome.42
When the Etruscans began to mint their own coinage toward the end of the sixth
and the early fifth centuries, eastern Greek (Phocaean) coins provided models for the
38 Renfrew 1984, 119–121.

39 Catalli 1990, 29.
40 Perkins and Attolini 1992, 129–30.
41 This count was determined by Maurizio Cattani, who classified this set by including only pieces
that had been fused together into regular plates (Cattani 1988).
42 Plin. HN 33.13: Servius rex primus signavit aes. Ampolo 1974. See also Cattani 1988, 209.

55 Economy, 580–450 BCE 1023
coin typologies as well as the weight standard, although different standards prevailed
later.43 The earliest datable coins found so far in Etruria are from the late sixth or early
fifth century.44 These coins (thirty-nine in all) were silver and were found near the
walls of Volterra together with Phocaean and Massaliot coins. These coins feature
either a pegasus or the head of a gorgon and are not marked by an inscription. Marina
Martelli believes that the iconography indicates that the coin was minted by Populo-
nia, since Populonia later came to use the head of a gorgon on some of its civic coin-
age.45
Etruscan coins were first produced in small quantities and had a high face value—
“small change” would come later (see chapter 27 Catalli).46 Fiorenzo Catalli observes
that the earliest coins had a limited area of circulation and were probably not pro-
duced on the authority of any Etruscan city but rather “were produced to circulate
within particular patrician groups for the payment and acquisition of services and
goods.”47 Another limited series dates roughly to the first half of the fifth century
from Vulci and bears the legend Thezi or Thezle and is thought to have been made
in the area of Vulci, a city whose emporium also made it a commercial hotspot of
sorts for international trade.48 The Thezi/Thezle coins were produced in small quanti-
ties and are thought to refer to the name of the family that authorized the coins.49 A
logical question centers around what provided the impetus for these initial limited
emissions. Whether these coins were needed by a gentilician group or the state, they
would have provided a means for outlaying a large sum, such as for buying armor or
hiring mercenaries, in a short period of time. Securely dated coinage minted by Etrus-
can city-states does not pre-date the middle of the fifth century.
5 The crisis and southern Etruria

A pivotal event in Etruscan history was the defeat of the Etruscan fleet at Cumae in 474
by Hieron of Syracuse. This battle, coupled with the waning presence of Etruscan influ-
ence in Rome and (eventually) Campania, signaled the end of Etruscan thalassocracy.
This “crisis” absolutely changed the economic role of the coastal south Etruscan centers
at the end of the Archaic period. The sanctuary of Graviscae, once populated by Greeks
43 Turfa 1986, 70; Cristofani 1985, 240; Parise 1985.

44 Catalli 1990, 33.
45 Martelli 1976, 103–4.
46 Catalli 2000, 89.
47 Catalli 2000, 90.
48 Catalli 2000, 89. Note that one coin of the Thezi/Thezle type was found at Malta (Catalli 1990, 36).
On Vulci’s trade see Colonna 1977.
49 Catalli 2000, 89; 1990, 35–36.

1024 Hilary Becker
and Etruscans, was now frequented only by local, Etruscan traffic, which sought the
benefits of Turan. The importation of Attic pottery into the ports of southern Etruria was
curtailed dramatically by 460–450.50 By around 450, the tombs at Tarquinia, Caere, and
even Orvieto had diminished and the funerary assemblages were less lavish.51
6 The crisis and how the north adapted
6.1 Populonia
With the sudden decline in trade experienced by the southern Etruscan ports, Popu-
lonia began to absorb some of the slack. Populonia’s apparent control over the Elban
mines reinforced the site’s centrality, as discussed in section 1, as a place to obtain
important raw materials. The importation of Attic vases to Populonia increased from
450–350.52
6.2 The Po Plain
The Po Plain was transformed in the middle of the sixth century as Etruscans sought
out both new commercial opportunities and access to the Adriatic Sea in place of the
Tyrrhenian Sea (Livy 5.33.9–10). The long-active city of Felsina (modern Bologna) was
reorganized and became the leading city of the reinvigorated and expanding Po Plain
(Pliny HN 3.15.115–16). Sites were founded or refounded, such as Marzabotto, which
lay on a key communication route in the Apennines near Bologna that led to Tyrrhe-
nian Etruria, Spina (on the Adriatic coast), and Mantua, which connected to routes
coming from Transalpine Europe.53 Some of these important demographic shifts can
be attributed to new inhabitants from northern Etruria, but the majority of evidence
from nomenclature indicates that the majority of residents of this new order were
originally from the Po Plain.54
50 Colonna 1976, 16; Haynes 2000, 263–64; Cataldi Dini 2010, 180.
51 Torelli 1986, 56; Steingräber 1985, 25; Haynes 2000, 263.
52 Martelli 1981b, 172; Camporeale 2001, 60.
53 Sassatelli 2004, 188; 2012, 172.
54 Sassatelli 1989, 26; 1993, 189; 2004, 184.

55 Economy, 580–450 BCE 1025
6.2.1 Marzabotto
Marzabotto, founded on an orthogonal plan by the end of the sixth century, was a
vital commercial and industrial city. City blocks contained both domestic quarters
and workshops for tile making, bronze foundries, and iron smithies.55 One of the most
striking discoveries that testifies to the orbit of this city’s commerce are the stone
weights that have been found there.56 While it is often said that is hard for us today to
make a quantitative estimate of the Etruscan economy, it can be said that in antiquity
quantity was very important. At Marzabotto, more than sixty stone weights have been
discovered. What is interesting about these weights is that they are not all based on
the same ponderal system. The system can be reconstructed in each case thanks to the
many stone weights that have numbers. For example, each of two stone weights has
one tick mark inscribed on it, indicating that its weight is one times the ponderal base
(in this case the ponderal base of each is 114–115 g).57 Another weight has three tick
marks and weighs 1,135 g, while yet another has five tick marks and weighs 1,905 g. A
quick calculation reveals that these latter weights are both based on a standard that
is roughly 380 g; clearly this standard is different from that shared by the first two
weights discussed.58 A weight of roughly 380 g is the most common standard found at
the site; it was also found among the Picenes and the Vestini.59
Another weight shows the coexistence of these different systems well, as one face
of the weight bears the Etruscan numeral “X,” or ten, while the other side has three
tick marks crossed by a fourth, and so, as Maggiani reads it, it represents four.60 This
weight weighs 1,432 g; thus if the weight is signaling on one side that it represents 10
times a certain base weight (or pound), this weight standard is 143.2 g (i.e. yet another
standard of measure!). Whereas, on the other side, dividing the known weight of the
stone by four gives a ponderal standard of 358 g. Both these standards are clearly dif-
ferent from those of the weights described above.
It is evident that different weight standards were in use at Marzabotto, and the
reasons for this could be manifold. It could be that different industries used different
weight standards (e.g., agricultural produce, metallurgy, or regional coins set on dif-
ferent weight standards?). Or it could be that certain standards prevailed in certain
55 Haynes 2000, 189.

56 Cattani 2001.
57 This weight standard is seen again in a late fourth–early third century bronze weight (with lead
core) from Sant’Antonio (Caere: Fig. 28.3), which weighs ten times this stone weight; this second
weight is discussed later in this volume (see chapter 61 Becker). This first weight is also 10/25 the weight
standard popularly used in southern Etruria (the “light pound” = 286.5 g; Maggiani 2002, 176). ). See
also chapter 28 Maggiani.
58 Maggiani 2002, 175 nos. 29 and 38.
59 Maggiani 2002, 176.
60 Maggiani 2002, 175 no. 32.

1026 Hilary Becker
places or at certain times. Above all, especially in an economy that was never fully
monetized, weights allowed consumers to make regulated exchanges using the weight
of bronze, in particular, as a standard.61 Finally, a loanword that the Romans bor-
rowed from the Etruscans may give some indication of the Etruscans’ use of weights,
namely, mantis(s)a, meaning “makeweight,” although we do not know precisely how
the Etruscans used this word.62
6.2.2 Spina
Spina, founded along the Adriatic coast after the middle of the sixth century, was
ideally situated to participate in Adriatic trade with Athens and continental Europe,
but its own land was marginal and marshy. The land was reclaimed by means of a
series of canals gridded within the orthogonal street plan, and houses were built on
wooden piles.63 These modifications allowed this less than optimal land to be usable,
allowing Spina to participate in the bustling trade. This massive endeavor speaks to
well organized planning in terms of the organization of local labor.64
Spina, like Caere before it, was a major port for maritime traffic, and like Caere,
even had its own treasury at Delphi, perhaps by the first half of the fifth century.65
Interestingly, of the approximately 1,700 Attic vases that Beazley counted in the Po
Valley, nearly 1,400 of them come from Spina, indicating that not a lot of the wares
(ca. 20%) were traded beyond the port.66 Goods exported from Spina no doubt
included grain from the Po Valley, animal products, amber and tin from the north,
and perhaps metals from Etruria proper.67
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62 Festus, Gloss. Lat. 103, 1L: mantisa, additamentum dicitur lingua Tusca, quod ponderi adicitur, sed
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63 Note that Strabo 5.1.7 describes Ravenna in a similar fashion.
64 Sassatelli 1993, 188.
65 Strabo 5.1.7; 9.3.8; Plin. HN 3.120. For the date, see Camporeale 2001, 98.
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Christoph Reusser
56 External relationships, 580–450 BCE
Abstract: This chapter deals with the importation of Attic pottery, which set in with transport ampho-
rae of the SOS type shortly before the middle of the seventh century BCE, and which are found exclu-
sively in particularly rich burials such as the Regolini-Galassi tomb in Caere. Around 600, the pottery
imported from Athens gradually rose in both quantity and quality (fine wares appeared for the first
time), and from the second quarter of the sixth century onward it dominated the entire Italian—and
specifically the Etruscan—market. Since the beginnings of the importation of Attic vases were recently
studied, this need not be discussed here. This chapter looks more closely at certain aspects of the
peak period of Attic importation, which lasted from the middle of the sixth century to the early fourth
century. In addition, for selected aspects the chapter examines the situation in Greece itself.
Keywords: Athens, Attic pottery, Etruscan market, Bologna, Kamiros Macri Langoni
Introduction
This chapter deals with the importation of Attic pottery, which set in with transport
amphorae with typical SOS decoration on the neck shortly before the middle of the
seventh century BCE, which are found exclusively in particularly rich burials such as
the Regolini-Galassi tomb in Caere.1 Around 600, the pottery imported from Athens
gradually rose both in quantity and quality (fine wares appeared for the first time),
and from the second quarter of the sixth century onward it dominated the entire
Italian—and specifically the Etruscan—market. Since the beginnings of the importa-
tion of Attic vases have recently been studied, this need not be discussed here.2 The
chapter looks more closely at certain aspects of the peak period of Attic importation,
which lasted from the middle of the sixth to the early fourth century. In addition, for
selected aspects the chapter examines the situation in Greece itself.
The chapter has been translated by S. Meinel.

1 Johnston and Jones 1978, 119 (Vatican 20359).
2 Reusser 2013.
1032 Christoph Reusser
1 Etruscan customers
A few years ago I undertook a critical reconsideration of this topic and developed a
new model of interpretation, putting forward several theses.3
Since a large quantity of Attic vases had been found in funeral contexts, it was
commonly held that such pottery must have had a specifically funerary dimension,
that these vases were intended for tombs in the first place, and that Etruscan custom-
ers bought them for this purpose. This is unlikely to have been the case, however,
because Attic vessels of the same shape and imagery were present in Etruria in greater
numbers in both private dwellings and public sanctuaries. Significantly, Attic vases
were distributed in large numbers throughout Etruria and are found in coastal and
inland areas. There is evidence to suggest that in the main sites the quality of the
imports was higher than in the smaller cities and the villages in the hinterlands.
Figural pottery clearly dominates the archaeological record. In addition, most
Etruscan settlements, sanctuaries, and necropolises yield Attic black-gloss ware,
albeit in considerably smaller quantities.4 These types of pottery complement each
other in terms of shape, with smaller shapes dominating in black-gloss. It is also
worth pointing out that the question of individual painters or potters—which has so
concerned many a Classical archaeologist—does not seem to have played any signifi-
cant role for Etruscan customers.
Much Attic pottery has been found in Etruscan sanctuaries.5 This is true not only
for the large sanctuaries of the main sites in southern Etruria but also for sanctuaries
of smaller settlements, for humble sacral precincts outside the cities, and for remote
shrines in rural areas. Attic pottery must therefore have commonly belonged to the
inventory of Etruscan sanctuaries from the sixth to the early fourth century.
These Attic vases may well have fulfilled several functions in Etruscan sanctuar-
ies, as was the case in Greece.6 They either belonged to the actual cultic apparatus
and served as dishes on the occasion of sacred meals (which are well known from
Greek contexts and which, it seems, are to be assumed for Etruria as well); or they
were brought to the sanctuaries as votive offerings, as is suggested by the dedica-
tory inscriptions which are occasionally found.7 From the shapes of these vases it can
tentatively be inferred that Attic imported pottery was primarily used for drinking,
and potentially used for libations in sacred rituals. In the cases where only a single
3 Reusser 2002, 1:204–6. Cf. also Shapiro 2000; Osborne 2001; Lewis 2003; Spivey 2006.
4 E.g., the case of the Attic pottery from the votive deposit of the northern sanctuary at Gravisca;
Fortunelli 2007, 55–149.
5 Reusser 2002, 36–45; 2:66–100, 146–47. See Fortunelli and Masseria 2009, 217–386.
6 See Stissi 2003, 77–79; Fortunelli and Masseria 2009, 13–55, 89–162.
7 Maggiani 1997.

56 External relationships, 580–450 BCE 1033
or very few Attic vessels are known in an Etruscan sanctuary, these objects are, with
few exceptions, cups.
Athenian vessels belonged to the usual inventory of simple as well as more
complex Etruscan houses.8 Again, this is true not only for larger cities but also for
smaller villages and even individual estates, in coastal as well as inland areas.
The frequency of cups, skyphoi, and, to a lesser degree, kraters in the context
of most Etruscan settlements underlines the fact that, as concerns private houses,
the importation from Attica is to be seen in connection with banquets and symposia.
Whether these vessels were used in daily life or whether they served festive and repre-
sentative purposes is, however, a question that remains unanswered.
In the sixth and fifth centuries, Attic vases were commonly used as funeral offer-
ings in the bigger cities as well as in the smaller centers and villages.9 It is therefore
erroneous to regard these vases as luxury items, because Attic pottery was used not
only by the elite but also by people from a wider social spectrum, in both urban and
rural areas. Men, women and children received Attic vessels as burial offerings, which
were of equal quality; no distinctions seem to have been made in terms of shape or
imagery. A detailed study of child burials in Spina has shown, however, that at least
in the case of children, there was likely a more complex situation.10 Unfortunately,
similar studies for other Etruscan necropolises are lacking.
A survey of a larger number of funeral contexts shows that in many cases a con-
scious choice of form and—at least partly—imagery can be demonstrated. It must
therefore be assumed that Etruscan customers did not buy Attic vessels at random
but made conscious selections. Most of the black-figure and red-figure imagery on
imported vases possessed certain meanings for the Etruscans, who had a rich world
of mythological images. Even though this imagery was closely connected to its Greek
counterpart, it was Etruscan. Moreover, these were meanings that Etruscan viewers
could “read” and interpret.
For the Etruscan customer, the shape of the pottery imported from Athens was of
central importance.11 Most Attic shapes were popular in Etruria, too, and met with a
ready market. Conversely, individual Athenian workshops are known to have copied
certain Etruscan shapes and to have produced them almost exclusively for an Etrus-
can market, in particular for Caere or Vulci.12 This seems to be the story told by the
manifold examples of Nikosthenic Bandhenkel amphorae, kyathoi, mastoid cups,
stands with half-cylinders, and stamnoi which Etruscan sites yield regularly. The
8 Reusser 2002, 1:30–36; 2:31–63, 142–45.

9 Reusser 2002, 1:110–22.
10 Muggia 2004, 39–45.
11 Reusser 2002, 1:124–39.
12 Cf. the overview in Rasmussen 1985.

potters in the Athenian Kerameikos must have been well aware of the possibilities of
a flourishing Etruscan market.
For the most part, the shapes of Attic pottery in Etruscan tombs, like those in
houses, can be seen in a clearly functional context. Storage jars for wine and water,
vessels for libations and for drinking, and oil flasks form comprehensive table ser-
vices for drinking and libations. Such sets were part of a “symposium culture”, which
in Etruscan society must have played an important role in daily life, cult activities,
and funerary rites.
Several years ago, Karim Arafat and Catherine Morgan presented a stimulating
paper discussing some general aspects of the significance of Attic pottery in Etruria
(and some Celtic territories).13 They were correct to postulate that certain types of
material gain new and different meanings in the transition from the primary culture
to a secondary cultural context and that it is of particular importance to examine their
new meaning in the recipient society. The following analysis adds a further dimen-
sion by suggesting that comparison with the situation of the producing culture, too,
can yield useful results and is in fact indispensable because it leads to new insights
into the nature and significance of the cultural contacts between two societies. As the
two authors emphasize, Attic pottery was mainly a possession in private hands and
was produced primarily for the home market. It did not rank among the most impor-
tant commercial articles of merchant ships, and traders and middlemen from various
regions of Greece and probably Etruria itself were involved.14 Nonetheless, there are
many hints to suggest that Athenian producers were well aware of the preferences and
needs of their Etruscan customers and that they took into consideration the exigen-
cies of the Italian market; this becomes obvious above all in the adoption of several
Etruscan shapes into the Athenian repertoire. It is safe to assume that export activ-
ity from Attica was not connected to any Athenian interests, military or political, in
Etruria. The sources provide no support whatsoever for making such an assumption.
The vase shapes and the particular preference for Dionysian themes and sym-
posiast scenes further show the context in which this pottery is to be placed: the
banquet and the symposium. This becomes obvious not only from the evidence pro-
vided by the artifacts found in tombs, but also from the finds from settlement areas
and, at least in part, sanctuaries (where other factors such as particular connections
to the deity were taken into account).15 For sacred contexts, a more detailed study is
certainly required.16 In any case, in comparison with other Italic or even Greek sites,
13 Arafat and Morgan 1994. For Attic pottery in Etruria see also Shapiro 2000; Osborne 2001; Lewis
2003; Spivey 2006.
14 Reusser 2002, 1:12–14, 23–27.
15 Maggiani 1997.
16 See the excellent study of the Attic pottery from the northern sanctuary at Gravisca in Fortunelli
2007, 55–149, 309–34. See also Fortunelli and Masseria 2009.

it would certainly be wrong, in the case of Etruria, to speak of a limited and one-sided
selection of shapes of Attic pottery.
There are some shortcomings in Arafat and Morgan’s analysis. The lack—or insuf-
ficient consideration—of less well-known sites, the specific contexts in Etruria, and
all the regions to which the Etruscans had spread, led to a number of statements
that more recent studies have seriously called into question.17 Attic fine wares were
disseminated even to remote regions and to small contexts of very different charac-
ter—settlements and sanctuaries, not only tombs.18 The evidence forbids us to speak
of diffusion only to urban centers and trading posts in southern Etruria (Chiusi is
considered exceptional).19 Bologna and Spina were not Graeco-Etruscan emporia but
Etruscan cities—and in the case of Spina, with some Greek inhabitants.
Analysis looking separately at the different geographical regions shows that with
respect to types, shapes, and imagery, the situation can differ greatly according to
time and place, and that such differences must consequently be taken into account in
generalizing surveys. It is erroneous to say that in the urban centers red-figure pottery
ceased to play any role around the middle of the fifth century. An interruption did take
place more than a generation later and must have had various causes, among which
the decline of Athenian production and the almost parallel rise of Etruscan red-figure
workshops must have been of central importance. There is no evidence for the sup-
posed “return to old native values.” There is, for example, no rise in the quantity of
metalware.
In view of the wide dissemination of the imported pottery and the knowledge
of central but also of quite specific Greek myths that can be traced to the middle of
the seventh century onward, in Etruscan culture at large and in Etruscan imagery
in particular,20 a further question arises. Namely, was the popularity of these types
really due to the fact that the complex mythological imagery was understood exclu-
sively by an elite who could bolster their social standing through this “control of myth
information”?21 By reducing these vases to elements in an urban elite display, and by
analyzing them exclusively under the aspect of “elite material behavior,” a general
assessment of their role in Etruscan society emerges that can hardly be considered
convincing. The widespread frequency of these vessels in a large number of tombs,
which is attested for the larger Etruscan necropolises, shows that we are dealing
here with a wider cultural phenomenon, one which affected a large part of Etruscan
society and is therefore of great interest in the assessment of social and cultural cir-
17 Reusser 2002.
18 Reusser 2002, 1:15–45.
19 For the early Attic imports to Chiusi and its region see now Iozzo 2006.
20 For Etruscan myths see de Grummond 2006, for the problem of Greek influence esp. 12–15.
21 Arafat and Morgan 1994, 117.

cumstances and interactions within it. The analysis of the data suggests a varied and
very complex picture.
2 Attic exports within Etruria and Greece:

A comparison of two cemeteries
In the case of Etruria, Magna Graecia, and other regions of Italy, a considerable
amount of data has been subjected to detailed analyses. These allow the study of
both the dissemination and the significance of Attic pottery. For the same regions (as
well as for the Iberian peninsula and, most recently, the Black Sea area), some studies
provide valuable surveys of the extant material.22 This is not the case for mainland
Greece. A few exceptions aside (among them Olynthus),23 there is a dearth of similar
studies. This is surprising considering the amount of relevant data available.
The extensive data from various necropolises on Rhodes, for example, which
after the extensive treasure hunting of the nineteenth century were excavated and
published by Italian archaeologists in the early twentieth century, have largely been
neglected.24
2.1 Macri Langoni, Kamiros (Rhodes)
Among the Rhodian cemeteries excavated in the early twentieth century, the Macri
Langoni necropolis (Fig. 56.1) is of particular interest,25 not only because of its large
dimensions and clearly defined topographical and chronological boundaries (later
seventh to late fifth century), but also because it has yielded a vast number—more
than 1,100—of artifacts, almost exclusively from single burials. The site therefore
allows us to make statistically relevant statements and to compare the available data
with corresponding Etruscan sites. The chronological focus of the necropolis falls in
the second half of the sixth century and in the years around 500.
Macri Langoni—on terraces hemmed in by the sea, a small valley, and a hill—
contains 257 burials of newborn babies, children, youths, and adults. The various
types of burials are laid out close to each other, and consist of 235 inhumations and
twenty-two cremations; around forty of these contained no grave goods, and around
22 Fless 2002.
23 Fless 2002, 27–40; Cahill 2002, 180–87.
24 With one notable exception: Gates 1983.
25 Jacopi 1931

Fig. 56.1: Kamiros (Rhodes), Macri Langoni necropolis. Tombs with Attic pottery.
Drawing by T. Palugyay, Regensburg. 
thirty contained only scraps.26 In Giulio Jacopi’s detailed publication of the mate-
rial, 198 tombs were presented, of which three were clearly situated outside of the
cemetery and are therefore not considered in the following analysis. Some of the
grave goods were placed on or immediately beside the tombs, where, at least in some
cases, a number of transport amphorae were also found. Of the remaining 195 tombs,
130 contained Attic pottery (Fig. 56.1), whose importation began around the middle of
the sixth century and continued until the end of the fifth.27
26 Jacopi 1931, 10–18, 30.

27 Jacopi 1931, 19–21.

Vases from Athens are present only in reduced quantities. Almost three quarters
of the burials with Attic pottery contained only one or two such vases; only rarely
were more found (on average 2.23 vases). A detailed analysis provides the numbers
shown in Table 1.
Table 1: Number of tombs containing specified number of vases (Macri Langoni)
Vases/tomb Tombs Vases/tomb Tombs Vases/tomb Tombs
1 59 3 9 7 1
1? 5 3? 2 8 1
2 30 4 11 9 1
2? 1 5 5 10 1
at least 2? 1 6 2 15 1
The 291 Athenian vases from these 130 tombs fall into the categories shown in Table 2.
Table 2: Vases per category (Macri Langoni)
Category Number
black-figure 130
red-figure 35
white-ground 2
black-gloss 124
The shapes found are shown in Table 3.
Table 3: Shapes of pottery (Macri Langoni)
Black-figure Red-figure White-ground Black-gloss

(n = 130) (n = 35) (n = 2) (n = 124)
cups 49 (16 miniature) 5 (1 small) 44 (9 small)

small cups 37
lekythoi 22 (7 miniature) 3 (1 small) 2 5 (2 small)
belly lekythoi 3 6
olpai 19 2 (1 small)
oinochoai 14 (10 miniature 1 5
pelikai 6 (1 small) 1
amphoriskoi 6
neck amphorae 6 1
belly amphorae 4 (1 miniature)
skyphoi 5 (2 miniature) 5 (1 small)
hydriai 4 (2 miniature) 6
phialai in Six’s techniquea 3 2 (1 small)

Black-figure Red-figure White-ground Black-gloss

(n = 130) (n = 35) (n = 2) (n = 124)
salt-cellars 3
feeder 3
askoi 3
alabastra 2 1 (small)
female-head vases 2
psykter 1
lekanis 1
askos 1
plate 1
stamnos 1
column krater 1 1
kantharos Saint-Valentin 1
unidentified shapes 2 1
a
Named after the Dutch archaeologist Jan Six.
2.2 Certosa necropolis, Bologna
The tombs of Felsina (Bologna), whose cemeteries are spread out along the ancient
streets leading out of the city,28 suggest themselves for comparison with the data
from Macri Langoni because the burials fall into the same chronological framework.
Moreover, the Felsina necropolises too consist almost exclusively of single burials and
provide statistically relevant numbers of tombs and artifacts. Among the various cem-
eteries of Bologna, the Certosa area in the western part of the ancient city allows the
strongest comparisons, not only because of the number of relevant tombs and grave
goods, but also because it has been described in the most detail (Figs. 56.2–56.3).29
In the nineteenth century, 418 tombs containing both children and adults and dating
from the later sixth, the fifth, and the early fourth centuries (with most burials dating
from the fifth) were excavated at this site; 287 burials were inhumations, 131 were
cremations.30 As to the age of the deceased, the current state of research does not
allow for conclusions as exact as those reached for Macri Langoni. Of the tombs, 331
contained material, and the rest contained either no or almost no grave goods; in
some cases grave goods were found but could not be identified and/or classified in
any meaningful way. The tomb types are on the whole simpler; architectural features
are lacking. Cremations occur much more frequently than at Macri Langoni.
28 For the Bologna cemeteries see Govi 1999, 13–28.

29 Zannoni 1876–84; Govi 1999, 13–18.
30 Reusser 2002, 1:70–75, 2:180–91.

Fig. 56.2: Bologna, Certosa necropolis, western part. Tombs with Attic pottery.
Drawing by T. Palugyay, Regensburg.

Fig. 56.3: Bologna, Certosa necropolis, eastern part. Tombs with Attic pottery.
Drawing by T. Palugyay, Regensburg.

The Certosa necropolis contained 196 tombs with Attic pottery (Figs. 56.2–56.3),
of which 440 examples were found (on average 2.24 per tomb). The analysis provides
the details shown in Table 4.31
Table 4: Number of graves containing specified number of vases (Certosa)
Vases/grave Graves Vases/grave Graves
1 85 at least 6 4
at least 2 53 7 2
at least 3 25 8 1
at least 4 16 9 1
at least 5 8 11 1
The types and shapes found are listed in Tables 5 and 6.
Table 5: Vases per category (Certosa)
Category Number
black-figure 100
red-figure 184
black-gloss 156
Table 6: Shapes of pottery (Certosa)
Black-figure Red-figure Black-gloss

(n = 100) (n = 184) (n = 156)
neck amphorae 14
belly amphorae 4
pseudo-Panathenaic amphora 1
amphorae of unidentified shape 12 8
column kraters 19 50
bell kraters 6 1
calyx craters 5 1
volute kraters 4
unidentified kraters 3
oinochoai and olpai 16 5 24 + 2
skyphoi 6 26 33
cup-skyphoi(?) 2
31 See Reusser 2002, 1:72, 2:180–91.

Black-figure Red-figure Black-gloss

(n = 100) (n = 184) (n = 156)
mastoid cups 5
lekythoi 9 4
cups (with and without handles) 4 54 49
kantharoi 2a 4 1
alabastron 1
pelikai 1 4
phialai 2
hydriai 2
stamnos 1
plastic vases 6
(2 ram-head rhyta
2 female-head oinochoai,
2 female-head kantharoi)
stemmed dishes of chalice shape 14
bowls 11
saltcellar 1
“coppe,” “tazze,” or “tazzette” (probably bowls) 8
“piattelli” (probably plates) 4
vases of unidentified shape 4 4 3
a.
According to Zannoni; the identification is uncertain.
2.3 Comparison
The data from Macri Langoni, Kamiros, and the Certosa necropolis, Bologna, corre-
spond in a number of cases but also show some important differences. In Bologna,
grave goods were placed only in the tombs themselves but not, as in Kamiros, beside
or on top of the tombs. In Macri Langoni, imported pottery other than that from Attica
(from East Greece and Corinth) plays an important role,32 whereas in Bologna such
pottery is almost entirely lacking. Instead, local ware, which is not common at Macri
Langoni, occurs with some frequency. Further differences can be detected in the other
types of grave goods but will not be discussed here.33 At both sites, Attic pottery occurs
in burials of adults as well as children, both female and male. The number of Attic
vases in the individual sets of grave goods is limited in both cases; for the most part,
there are only one or two vessels in each tomb, and only in isolated cases are there
more than five. The average number of vessels per tomb is almost identical in both
cases (Macri Langoni, 2.23; Certosa, 2.24). It is true for both sites that Attic pottery
32 Jacopi 1931, 21–23. 25–29.

33 For example, in the case of Certosa, the complete absence of terracottas and the comparatively
greater importance of metal artifacts and jewelry are striking.

constitutes an important part of the respective sets of grave goods, and that the vases
were not chosen at random but were, as a rule, consciously selected according to
shape and partly according to imagery. The range of types of Athenian pottery found
at each site is roughly the same.34 That fact that in each case there is a difference in the
percentage of black- and red-figure vases in the overall record can be ascribed to the
different peak periods of the two cemeteries. In both cases, works of famous artists
are largely absent, especially in the case of red-figure pottery, and at Macri Langoni
the pots tend to be of poor quality. Black-gloss ware plays an important role at both
sites, constituting around 35% of the total of Attic pottery at Certosa and around 42%
at Macri Langoni.35
For all three categories (black-figure, red-figure, black-gloss), the range of shapes
found at Macri Langoni and Certosa is roughly the same. The two sites differ in that
black-figure mastoid cups (a shape that was taken over from the Etruscan repertoire)
and red-figure skyphoi are absent from Kamiros, and feeders and red-figure lekythoi
are absent from Bologna. Furthermore, large vessels are rare at Macri Langoni. In
terms of the frequency of the various shapes, there are even more remarkable differ-
ences. Kraters constitute the second-largest group in Bologna but are almost entirely
absent from Macri Langoni, where instead lekythoi occur in large numbers, as is the
case throughout Greece. In Macri Langoni, black-figure cups are common but red-
figure cups are rare. The opposite is true for the Certosa. Skyphoi are very common
in Bologna but quite rare in Kamiros. In Kamiros, hydriai were deposited in tombs
relatively often, but only in individual cases in the Certosa necropolis. Oinochoai and
olpai occur in considerable numbers at both sites. It seems to be the case, then, that
the differences in the arrangement of the grave goods are greater than the similarities.
In the composition of the imported Athenian pottery in Bologna, there is a clear
tendency toward sets of banquet and symposium services (consisting of krater or
amphora, cup or skyphos, and oinochoe)36 and hence a conscious choice which is
further suggested by the frequency of symposium or Komos scenes.37 A similar ten-
dency does not appear in Macri Langoni, where similar sets are found in only three
tombs. In tomb VIII, a black-figure neck amphora, a black-gloss olpe, two black-gloss
cups, and a black-gloss saltcellar were found.38 In tomb XVII, a belly amphora, a cup
featuring a symposium scene, and a skyphos, all in black-figure, a red-figure cup with
a Komos scene; and an omphalos-phiale in Six’s technique were found.39 In tomb CV,
a column krater, a cup, a lekythos, all in black-figure, and a black-gloss lekythos were
34 The only exceptions are white-ground lekythoi, which occur at Macri Langoni (albeit only two
examples, and without figurative decoration at that) but are entirely lacking in Bologna.
35 For Attic black-gloss ware from Bologna in general, see Govi 1999.
36 Reusser 2002, 1:70–75, 133–36.
37 Reusser 2002, 1:74, 177–78.
38 Jacopi 1931, 64–69 figs. 41–44.
39 Jacopi 1931, 83, 86, 88–92 figs. 68–74.

found.40 It seems, then, that in Kamiros, symposium and banquet ware did not play
any significant role in the choice of the sets of grave goods.
In Kamiros, the imagery of the Attic pottery is dominated by rather generalized
scenes with clad female and male figures, warriors, animals, and ornaments.
Mythological scenes, including the labors of Heracles, are very rare, and only Dio-
nysos and his entourage occur somewhat more frequently. In Bologna, the selection
of scenes is larger and more varied. This could simply be attributed to the fact that
large vessels are present in the record in greater numbers.
One remarkable difference between the two sites is the frequency of miniature
vase shapes in Macri Langoni. Importantly, these miniature vessels are not restricted
to child burials, as is the case in Bologna. A possible explanation of this phenomenon
may be that in Bolognese burials, shapes and sizes occur which were used in everyday
life, whereas in the case of Kamiros it may be a matter of pottery specially produced
or bought for use solely in tombs.
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IV. Civilization
Late Classical and Hellenistic periods

Fernando Gilotta
57 Late Classical and Hellenistic art,
450–250 BCE
Abstract: This chapter deals with developments in Etruscan culture in a crucial and troubled period
of transition, from the collapse of the Archaic world to Middle Hellenism and the almost total con-
quest of southern Etruria by the Romans. The specifically architectural side saw the construction—or
rebuilding and restoration—of major temple buildings, both of peripteral and (mainly) of Tuscanic
type, in the coastal areas as well as in the prosperous towns along the Tiber Valley, reaching as far as
northern sub-Apennine Etruria and Marzabotto. Town walls and dwellings are also briefly surveyed,
with reference to local building traditions and to Greek models for specific defensive devices and for
the adoption of “atrium-type” houses. The best achievements in sculpture for the fifth and fourth
centuries BCE seem to be concentrated in the rich towns of the Tiber Valley area (from Falerii up to
Chiusi and Arezzo), thanks to a wide circulation and Umbildung of models (of “Severe” and Classi-
cal imprint), most probably through the major production centers of the western Greek world. Wall
painting, still essentially from the Tarquinia area, seems to be rather conservative in style and reper-
tory—influenced as it is by ritual images and signs—and shows a considerable propensity for the
persistence of several old figural themes, celebrating the deceased’s social role in life and his destiny
in the Netherworld. At the end of the fifth century, a new system of funerary themes centered on the
Netherworld, with its gods and daemons, comes to the forefront with the Tomb of the Blue Demons,
and was destined to be reproduced with variants and extended throughout numerous Tarquinian
hypogea of the fourth and third centuries.
Splendid architectural sculptures belonging to temples, and many fragments of sculpture in
stone from tombs or naiskoi, which seem to be inspired by works of great masters that were probably
echoed through vigorous exchanges with neighboring Magna Graecia, can be assigned to the new
Late Classical/Early Hellenistic koine, which predominated from about the mid fourth century to the
first half of the third.
Keywords: architecture, sculpture, painting, elites
1 Architecture
The period between the mid fifth and mid third centuries hosted crucial stages in
Etruscan civilization, from the Interimsperiode following the collapse of the Archaic
world and its economic and cultural structures, with a general readjustment of power
balances in the Italian peninsula, particularly its Tyrrhenian coast, to Middle Hellen-
ism and the almost total conquest of southern Etruria by the Romans.
The undeniable crisis experienced by the towns, especially in the south and on
the coast, after the epoch-making clashes (and defeats) of the first decades of the
fifth century, did not, however, involve complete stasis in the organization of towns
and sanctuaries, or in artistic production and handicrafts. Changes in Gravisca, Pyrgi
(and, later, Volterra), to indicate just some of the more interesting sites, include a pres-
ence of worshippers and cults of Western Greek origin previously totally unknown in
1050 Fernando Gilotta
the heart of Etruria. This concrete premise of a Western Greek “influence” in Etruscan
material culture—always assumed, but never completely and convincingly motivated
historically—will be briefly mentioned below. Yet again, as far as sanctuaries are con-
cerned, on the specifically architectural side we see the construction, or rebuilding
and restoration, of major temple buildings, both in the coastal areas and in the pros-
perous towns along the Tiber Valley, reaching as far as northern sub-Apennine Etruria
and Marzabotto.
1.1 The peripteral temple
Temple A on the Marzabotto acropolis (dated around the middle of the fifth century,
with an assumed peripteral plan of 7×4 columns, on a podium, with a long, narrow
naos) seems to lie in the wake of experiments such as the Tempio Grande at Vulci
and temple B at Pyrgi. Our understanding of its architectonic relevance, however,
has improved with the discovery of a second peripteral temple, dedicated to Tinia, in
the urban area of the same town, dating from the early decades of the fifth century.
Western Greek monumental models were assimilated and reformulated in this inland
and Apennine context in the Late Archaic and Proto-Classical periods, probably
thanks to the pliant and still pervasive mediation of southern Etruscan centers, as
would seem to be indicated by other, fragmentary evidence from Chiusi, Arezzo and
Volterra.
1.2 The tuscanic temple
Most of the remaining sacred edifices are of Tuscanic type. The Belvedere Temple, the
only one of the numerous Orvietan temples whose ground plan is known with some
certainty, was undoubtedly built in the first half of the fifth century, but was remod-
eled at the end of the same century, as shown by a set of pedimental high-reliefs. The
building opened on the back side of a temenos, had a roughly square shape, with the
central cella wider than the side ones, a double row of columns in the pronaos not in
line with the walls of the cellae, and access steps, with proportional modules similar
on the whole to Vitruvian ones. The votive inscriptions, altars with central hole, cippi
with lightning in relief, ensure its connection with a chthonic cult of Tinia Caluśna.
Not very different from the ground plan of the Belvedere Temple is that of the
sacred building discovered at Piazzale del Cassero (Castiglion Fiorentino). Located
in an area of Val di Chiana between Cortona and Arezzo, it was crucial to the control
of the roads running through the valley and thus open to cultural experiment of
various origins. Conspicuous fragments of architectural decoration, belonging to a
stage dating to the mid fourth century, reveal significant matches with materials from
sacred buildings at Orvieto and with the Belvedere itself.

57 Late Classical and Hellenistic art, 450–250 BCE 1051
Fig. 57.1: Tarquinia, Ara della Regina temple, phase III. Late Classical-Hellenistic period
(after Bagnasco Gianni 2011, 51 fig. 1)
More or less of the same period, according to the most recent research, is the temple
at Fiesole, rebuilt in Tuscanic style, with central cella and alae, two (?) columns and
access steps in front. Nothing is known about the roof covering, to which belong
excellent figured reliefs preserved only in fragments, while its attribution to the cult
of Menerva currently appears to be based solely on weak evidence.
The temple of Celle at Falerii (Ager Faliscus, in the Tiber Valley), outside the prop-
erly defined Etruscan area, is dedicated to a female deity, probably Juno Curitis, and
again features what has recently been tentatively reconstructed as a square ground
plan, a pars postica made up of a central cella and two alae and a pars antica of
similar dimensions, and a double row of four columns in front. Several architectural
and decorative stages have been identified between the fifth century and the Late
Classical period.
Different or more uncertain, on the other hand, are the versions of Tuscanic
ground plans known from other places. This is the case, for example, of the build-
ing at Fontanile di Legnisina (fifth–fourth centuries)—a suburban Vulcian sanctuary
close to a road into the town, which housed the cults of Uni and Vei—with cella and
alae and columns in front delimiting an ample (perhaps double) pronaos, in which
part of the sacred rites were celebrated.

Fig. 57.2a–b: Cerveteri, Sant’Antonio, temple A, assumed plan and column. Hellenistic period
(after Maggiani 2008, 131, fig. 16b; 135, fig. 25)
The ground plan of the first phase (middle to second half of the fourth century) of the
temple on the acropolis at Talamonaccio, in the Albegna Valley (Vulcian territory),
must have been rather long. It was built in the Late Classical period, again with cella,
probably alae, and pronaos with a double row of two columns, aligned on the front
with the side walls.
The most relevant architectonic enterprise of the period (around the middle of
the fourth century) is the complete remodeling of the Ara della Regina temple at Tar-
quinia, a town once again of primary importance as the protagonist against increas-
ing Roman expansionism. This large sacred building, perhaps dedicated to Artumes,
rose on a foundation of tufa blocks. The south side of the facade included a large
terrace that gave access to the temple itself by means of a flight of steps made monu-
mental by two projections with a molded base. The temple’s ground plan seems to
combine elements typical of the peripteral, such as the extended plan, with what are
essentially Tuscanic structural features, such as the central cella (probably with alae)

and side walls reaching the facade and enclosing a double row of two columns pro-
vided with “Ionic-Italic” capitals (Fig. 57.1).
In the first half of the third century, Temple A (dedicated to Hercle) at Sant’Antonio
at Caere was remodeled with a Tuscanic plan similar to that of the Late Archaic
phase, with a colonnade of four columns in front and a second row of two columns
aligned with the side walls. Tufa architectural fragments have made it possible to
reconstruct the fluted columns with figured capitals, showing human heads (Hercle
and Acheloos?) enclosed between scrolls. These are similar, but not identical, to
those found in other Late Classical and Hellenistic architecture in southern Etruria,
which were probably inspired by roughly contemporary Western Greek models
(Fig. 57.2a–b). For the time being, it is difficult to say whether the temple was refur-
bished before or after the events of 273, which saw Rome deprive Caere of its autonomy,
for the celebration of which a subterranean area was created in the town center with
the inscription of C. Genucius Clepsina, perhaps the mundus of the new “refounded”
Caere (Fig. 38.3).
1.3 Shrines
The knowledge of shrines has substantially increased over the last decades at both
major sanctuaries and minor cultic sites. For the period we are examining, we refer
to the gamma (mid fifth century) and alpha (roughly one century later) buildings in
the Area Sud of Pyrgi, both without podium, with a rectangular and square ground
plan respectively, and an off-axis entrance to safeguard the secrecy of the rites. They
housed cults to Śuri (gamma) and Cavatha (alpha), and were furnished with benches
along the facade, apparently intended for the comfort and rest of devotees. The
ground plan of each shrine is of the oikos type, one of the most ancient types of sacred
Etruscan edifice.
1.4 Town Walls
The crisis of the fifth century, with its traumatic military repercussions, followed by
growing aggressiveness from Rome in the fourth and third centuries – which ended,
as noted above, with the fall of the southern Etruscan towns – favoured the creation or
rebuilding of town walls, which are still visible in the Etruscan landscape even today.
These were mostly built in ashlar masonry, particularly in central-southern Etruria,
owing to the abundance of tufa, a soft and easily workable stone, albeit with different
typologies and a considerable variety of solutions, sometimes even within the same
circuit. The major towns were provided with walls, as also numerous smaller ones
that controlled territories from strongholds strategic in position and elevation. The
functional and ideological relevance of the defenses was often emphasized by the

location of liminal cults close to the town gates, as, for example, at Tarquinia, Vulci
and Cortona; but on the whole, fortifications never lost their primary character as
utilitarian constructions and rarely reached high technical standards.
The fortification system of Caere appears to be substantially adapted to the struc-
ture of the tufa plateau on which the town rises, consisting of works differing in struc-
ture and defensive purposes, which, between the late sixth and the fifth or fourth cen-
turies, covered the long sides of the plateau. At Tarquinia, between the fifth and fourth
centuries, an actual circuit of walls enclosed a relatively large area, including Pian di
Civita and Pian della Regina, the sites of the town itself, and the nearby Castellina
hill (once deemed the town’s acropolis). In this latter case, the technique adopted—
isodomic ashlar masonry—appears to be largely heir to that used in all probability for
the smaller circuit of the Archaic period. Only at a few points is it possible to see the
emplecton building technique, with a double curtain of blocks and an inner filling of
stones and earth, which was also known in Etruria from archaic times. Well known
among the defenses at Tarquinia is the gate on the northern side, at the narrow point
between Pian di Civita and Pian della Regina, of the inner-chamber type, perhaps
with a vaulted roof, which was inspired by Greek defensive architecture of the Classi-
cal and Hellenistic periods and, as we shall see, was also adopted at other sites.
Recent research has helped reconstruct a single circuit of walls at Vulci, dating to
the late fourth century, which was mostly built in isodomic ashlar masonry, but with
sections using the emplecton technique. It was provided with defensive devices such
as the triangular structure at the West Gate, whose chronology, immediately prior to
the Roman conquest, may prove the adoption of actual defensive war engines neces-
sitated by the impending clash with Rome.
Cases of elaborate defenses are not lacking in the smaller towns of southern
Etruria, either. In the hinterland of Tarquinia at Musarna, a proteichisma and a moat
on the east side of the fortifications—part of a system of aggeres and mighty ashlar
walls—appear to have a protective function with the purpose of delaying the progress
of enemy troops and war machinery. Similarly, at Ghiaccio Forte, a fortified site of
the ager volcentanus in the Albegna Valley, the wall circuit built using the emplec-
ton technique, perhaps with mud bricks, had three monumental inner-chamber type
gates. Unlike the walls, these were constructed with care and, it appears, protected by
towers or outward projections from the walls.
In northern coastal Etruria, the remains of the wall circuit of Populonia are par-
ticularly conspicuous. Their dating is still debated, owing to destruction over the
centuries (including in modern times) and stratigraphic complexity. Recent research
tends to favor an early chronology, for both the circuit around the acropolis, which
might date to the Late Archaic period, and the wall around the lower town, from Cala
S. Quirico as far as Baratti, which was built in ashlar masonry and provided with
(at least) two towers. The various stages of the last circuit may date to between the
fifth century and the Early Hellenistic period. This chronological assumption would
of course coincide with the most critical moments of the town’s history.

Outside Etruria, but of great relevance for the history of the Etruscan presence
in the central-western Mediterranean, fortifications were discovered in the Genoa
oppidum, on the Castello hill, in a position dominating the coast. This strong circuit,
dry-laid using the emplecton technique, and with a double face of regular rows of
well-squared blocks, seems to date to the first half of the fifth century. It is thus more
or less contemporary with the building of the walls surrounding Populonia, and with
the reinforcement of the Etruscans’ presence in the Po Valley area as well as in indig-
enous contexts in nearby southern Gaul.
Among inland northern Etruscan towns, the wall circuit of Cortona—which
appears datable to the Late Classical period (fourth century)—was built of large
roughly squared blocks, and must have seen partial rebuilding in the second century,
probably including the double-arched Porta Bifora. In most recent proposals, the trav-
ertine wall circuit of Perugia is dated to the mid third century, a period of great devel-
opment for the town, which was located along the line of northward Roman expan-
sion. The circuit, seemingly inspired in its building technique and defensive devices
by sophisticated Hellenistic models, is provided with gates, some monumental and
covered with arches, and some arranged in pairs, one in front of the other, to facilitate
crossfire against the enemy. The two main gates, Porta Marzia and Porta di Augusto,
are worth noting for the two towers that flank them and for the elegant and elaborate
two-story architectonic facade with busts of deities.
A great circuit of irregular, pseudo-polygonal walls—not rare in northern Etruria,
due to the lack of soft tufa-type stone that is so abundant in the South—was erected at
Volterra in the late fourth century, considerably extending the area protected by the
previous walls, which must have left plenty of open spaces. The main roads began, at
both the south and the north, from the town’s inner-chamber type gates. The south-
ern gate, known as the Porta dell’Arco, was provided with three plastic heads at the
base and on the keystone—probably the tutelary deities of the gate itself. Though
rather worn, these heads unquestionably belong to the Early Hellenistic tradition and
are also fundamental for the dating of the entire defense system.
Lastly, the wall circuit of present-day Orbetello, in the ager volcentanus, must be
briefly mentioned. Its magnificent polygonal technique seems to have been the model
used for the walls built by Roman colonists at nearby Cosa.
1.5 Dwellings
Among the most relevant architectural evidence are functionally highly developed
and sometimes monumental versions of dwellings belonging to the fifth century. It
can now be said with certainty that the ground plan of the “Pompeian” house, with
an atrium and numerous rooms arranged around a central courtyard, is the result of
experiments in Middle Tyrrhenian—Etruscan and (later) Roman—contexts, starting at
least from the second half of the sixth century. Their line of development is linked to

Fig. 57.3: Marzabotto, Casa degli Ippocampi (IV 1,2),

plan. Second half of the fifth century (after Häuser 2010,
107, fig. 2d)
the concept of houses, sacred buildings and tombs that can be traced in the Etruscan
milieu starting from the Orientalizing period. They favor a division between the front
part of the house (Lat. antica) near the entrance, for receiving guests, and the inner
part of the house (Lat. postica), which comprised the actual living quarters. The most
significant evidence of this type of establishment is to be found in a newly founded
“colonial” (see chapter 76 Malnati) town like Marzabotto. This town was designed
with rationally arranged spaces within an orthogonal urban grid, and was used for
the more central districts with buildings of greater prestige and of greater size (Insula
IV,1,2, probably dating from the mid fifth century). Here we see a long entrance corri-
dor and a central cruciform courtyard with a well, in which we recognize the layout of
a Roman-type atrium, with tablinum, alae and cubicula, clearly celebrating a function
and social status of absolute preeminence (Fig. 57.3).
The type of building with a square ground plan and rooms arranged around an
open central courtyard and compluvium sometimes delimited by a portico, is well

rooted in Etruria between the Late Archaic period and the fifth century, even in subur-
ban and rural areas. It was sometimes used for residential purposes, and sometimes
for the storage and/or processing of agricultural produce. Among the most interest-
ing examples recently found is the Casa delle Anfore at Poggio Alto, a few kilometers
south of Poggio del Castello (Marsiliana). Some of the structure’s rooms contained a
conspicuous number of Etruscan transport amphorae and domestic pottery, certainly
pointing to its use as a store for food products, in a territorial context involved in con-
siderable demographic and economic expansion at that time.
Specimens of residential architecture are abundant also for the period between
the fourth and the third centuries, in both major and minor towns and even at bound-
ary sites. At the aforementioned Ghiaccio Forte, a residential complex dating to just
before the Roman conquest between the late fourth and early third centuries has been
excavated. It includes storage rooms, kitchens, bathrooms, and rooms for domestic
activities, in which partial affinity to Greek dwelling-house architecture of the Late
Classical and Hellenistic periods has been observed. Again in the Po Valley area, the
town of Spina certainly still possessed outstanding dwelling structures in the fourth
century; in its northeastern area, a house has partially been brought to light, with
several rooms arranged at right angles around an open space. For this important
center in the Po Delta, even the structural features of floors and elevations can be
described with a degree of precision. Light perishable materials were used on timber
skeletons, some of which had pitched roofs supported by large timber pillars.
1.6 Funerary architecture
In some major southern Etruscan towns (Veii, Caere, Tarquinia), the most frequent
tomb structure is a simple single chamber, as was already found in the Late- and Sub-
Archaic periods. In some cases, however, the chambers were later extended in size
and provided with open niches at the sides, and sometimes, with separate rooms
at the back, which were destined to receive the married couple with great display
of wealth. The owners of the Tomb of the Reliefs, Tomb of the Alcove, and Torlonia
(second half of the fourth century) at Caere, for example, were probably members
of the aristocracy who, during the Late Classical and Early Hellenistic periods, were
protagonists of an extraordinary economic and cultural regeneration, open to the
ideological standards and fashions launched by the Hellenic and Hellenizing elites
of Macedonia and Magna Graecia. In the same decades, however, there were tombs
still concretely inspired by a more elaborate domestic architecture, among which the
most distinguished examples are the Tomb of the Shields at Tarquinia, with its cruci-
form plan around an atrium, and the François Tomb at Vulci (last third of the fourth
century), with its complex star-shaped plan around several rooms and its coffered
ceiling imitating both civil and sacred architecture. The Greppe Sant’Angelo Tomb,
again at Caere, which dates to the second half of the fourth century, is an architectonic

complex with a monumental facade, a courtyard with two sepulchral chambers, and
a terrace. The tomb commits its commemorative message to a planimetric and monu-
mental complexity and rich plastic decoration, which is unrivalled in Etruria. Roofing
the interior of one of the burial chambers is the most ancient (and refined) example
of the adoption of barrel-vaulting in the region, according to a Macedonian model
perhaps transmitted with Western Greek—and particularly Neapolitan—mediation.
Excluded from this brief general view, owing to their typological-stylistic specific-
ity, are problems concerning the rock-cut tombs, which are among the most refined
and original specimens of architecture of Hellenistic type in the Italian peninsula.
2 Sculpture
As mentioned above, the end of the Archaic period was followed by a transition—the
Interimsperiode—during which it appears that, from a formal and ideological point
of view, Middle Tyrrhenian material culture was no longer moving in perfect parallel
with that of the Greek world. The reasons are many, and their effects seem to overlap.
The end of an urban koine civilization—markedly Greek and to a conspicuous extent
East Greek—which had involved the Hellenic, mix-Hellenic and barbarian cultures,
and which in Etruria had seen wide acceptance and creativity, led to the rise of new
regional realities that were accompanied by new political ideologies, economic struc-
tures, and cultures. Thus, Athens saw the birth of a “Severe” and then Classical style
that, flourishing on the ruins of the Persians’ destruction of the Acropolis, were nour-
ished by a favorable economic situation and febrile intellectual activity. These styles
reached heights of originality clearly connected with the philosophical and political
developments of the civic community, and were difficult to export as such to environ-
ments lacking similar ideals . What happened in Etruria is, so to speak, the other side
of the medal. Particularly in the coastal town, the people of Etruria, defeated in the
epoch-making clashes with the emerging Western Greek powers (in 474), appear to
have retreated within themselves, continuing to draw on their own abundant tradi-
tion in major arts and handicrafts. At least during the early decades of the period,
there was a contraction in production and consumption as a result of the spread of
political models of oligarchic nature. Not all was stagnation in Etruria, however. The
archaeological traces of attendance at the major southern Etruscan sanctuaries by
Western Greeks during the first half of the fifth century have already been mentioned,
which must have had repercussions on the degree of acculturation by local popula-
tions. Also to be remembered are the always-open channels between Spina and the
Greek world, and the prosperity of the Tiber Valley towns, whose wealth depended on
their abundant agriculture and the overland exchanges with two of the most impor-
tant poles of development in the peninsula at that time: Hellenized southern Italy and
the Po Valley world, which opened onto the Adriatic Sea. For any historically complete

analysis of the artistic expressions of the period, the scarcity of major monuments
also requires taking into account minor handicrafts (see chapter 58 Ambrosini), of
which there are signs of a fair degree of lively receptivity. The possible public results
of this—particularly as far as sculpture is concerned—have been irremediably lost.
The delay in comparison with the evolution of the formal Greek (actually, Athe-
nian) Vorbild and our recognition of the most significant centers of stylistic devel-
opment should therefore be read with full awareness of all the phenomena briefly
described here and in the certainty, as also indicated by the latest surprising archaeo-
logical discoveries, that our knowledge has the precarious nature of a jobsite perpetu-
ally under construction.
2.1 Classical sculpture
The Late- and Sub-Archaic sculpture from southern and northern Etruria, with a
sound formal coherence and acceptance of the dictates of an international, Ionic-
Peloponnesian style, was followed in the mid fifth century by pieces embodying the
canons of the Severe and Classical styles. This was true especially in the towns of the
Tiber Valley (Veii, Falerii, Orvieto, Chiusi, as well as Cortona and Arezzo), perhaps
as a result of the direct contribution of Western Greek craftsmen. The excellence of
the clay mold with a female head discovered in 2008 at Orvieto, datable to between
460 and 450 BCE (Fig. 57.4), reveals a formal culture recognizable as the one traced
in the major sculptural creations as well as in the votive terracottas of eastern Sicily.
The characteristics of this new work, moreover, make it possible to introduce and
more easily understand one of the most important groups of Etruscan sculpture of
the period—namely, the stone cinerary urns of Chiusi, thus saving from their isolation
specimens of very high quality, such as a splendid fragmentary head at the Chiusi
Museum. After the “tyrannical” eclipse of the Porsenna period, the funerary sculp-
ture of Chiusi—whose clients were members of the local aristocracy in a position to
order rich chamber tombs between the second quarter of the fifth century and the
outset of the fourth—consigned its commemorative message to statues of enthroned
female figures, recumbent male personages accompanied by daemons of death, and
married couples with the wife seated on a kline and later recumbent on a couch beside
her husband. The language used in these sculptures, while preserving a certain rigid
composure, gradually incorporates, together with Sub-Archaic features, elements
that were certainly inspired by Classical models (hairstyle, facial features, arrange-
ment of folds). A similar formal approach is shown by the prestigious votive terra-
cotta sculptures from the sanctuary of Menerva at Veii (Fig. 57.5). Veii was a town
that, owing to its geographical position, had always readily accepted foreign models
(and, perhaps, craftsmen), including those from Hellenized southern Italy. The funer-
ary and votive spheres were consequently the primary points of reference for both
urban and rural aristocratic clients of the fifth century. For them, sculptors in stone

Fig. 57.4: Terracotta mould for a female head, from

Campo della Fiera, Orvieto, excavations 2008.
Mid fifth century. Orvieto, Archaeol. Mus.
(after Stopponi 2009, 471, fig. 33)
and terracotta could provide commemorative imagery (relating to their other-worldly

destiny, or self-portrayal before the deity) aware of the latest trends in Greek style,
thanks to the circulation of models, or even molds, most probably through the major
production centers of the Western Greek world.
Also from the Tiber Valley area comes one of the most celebrated (and rare) large
bronzes that have come down to us: the Chimaera, a valuable votive offering dedi-
cated in a suburban sanctuary of Arezzo, located at the entrance to major communi-
cation routes. Recent research indicates a dating to around the end of the fifth century
to the beginning of the fourth, and attributes it to a workshop either at Chiusi or even
Arezzo itself. Its overall naturalism, the plasticity of the muzzle, and the stylizing of
the coat, all seem to point to Attic or southern Italian experiments in monumental
sculpture, transferred to Etruria perhaps through the activity of (itinerant) Western
Greek masters, who followed similar methods of transmission for same period as were
found in the less prestigious sectors of painted pottery and small decorative sculp-

Fig. 57.5: Terracotta female votive statue, from

the Portonaccio sanctuary, Veii. Second half
of the fifth century, Rome, Museo Nazionale
Etrusco di Villa Giulia (Photo SAR-Laz)
ture. Another exceptional bronze object, the Cortona lamp, is also a votive offering. Its
relief decoration reveals adherence to the canons of the Ripe Classical period (end of
the fifth century–beginning of the fourth), reinterpreted—particularly the gorgoneion
and the masks of Acheloos—with Tiber Valley, and perhaps Orvietan, nuances.
Starting from the late second half of the fifth century, with increasing public
clients, sacred places continued to be, or rather were once more, the main destina-
tion for major sculptural works embellishing both new and renovated temples. Once
again, the towns of the Tiber Valley provide the most meaningful evidence. Of them
all, Orvieto occupies a place of particular importance, as the strategic center for all of
inland Etruria and a natural bridge to the Italic areas on the eastern side of the penin-
sula, as well as the seat of a major federal sanctuary. Architectural terracotta remains
of the decoration of several temples (only one of which—the Belvedere—is sufficiently
known in terms of its ground plan and related cults) testify to the existence of a major
local coroplastic school, which worked for public bodies desirous of celebrating their
ethical-genealogical profile and the town’s political destiny through the narration
of mythical events. The extremely fragmentary condition of the sculptures makes it
difficult to define with any certainty the themes portrayed or composition models
adopted, but we can certainly appreciate the formal ability of the plastai who pro-

duced them. The Classical canon in fashion at Athens in the last thirty years of the
fifth century, of which the best evidence in Etruria is a single splendid head—now in
the British Museum—that may be of Orvietan provenance, can be descried in the Via
S. Leonardo heads (late fifth century). They do, however, exhibit some rigidity in ren-
dering facial features—as in the lengthened cut of the eyes and mouth and rendition
of the beard. Better preserved is the cycle of the temple of Tinia Caluśna at the Bel-
vedere (final decades of the fifth century), in which an assembly of heroes seems to
take part in an event of special importance. In this case too, the expressive language
appears aligned with the noble models of major Hellenic sculpture—from the eastern
pediment of Olympia, to the Parthenon metopes, to draped post-Pheidian statues—
albeit with stylistic streaks of “severity.” Such a style must have become widespread
among local sculptors and craftsmen, and significant echoes of it are found in later
decades, even in works such as the Torre San Severo stone sarcophagus and in small
bronze and terracotta Instrumentum-sculptures. The posture of some of the statues
of the Belvedere cycle may be understood only as having assimilated the Kanon of the
great Argive artist Polykleitos, of whom however only a partial echo is found here (as
in Etruria, generally speaking), due to a substantial Etruscan extraneousness to the
theoretical reflections underlying the Hellenic Polykleitan creation.
At roughly the same time, the same tendencies appear in a major bronze, the
so-called Mars from Todi, which is probably once again from an Orvietan workshop.
It is not known whether this work was a votive statue in the strict sense or a cult
image. Any chiastic portrayal appears to be betrayed by the feet, which are both firmly
planted on the ground, by the wide arm gesture, and by the cuirass, which diminishes
the balance of the composition while stiffening the torso. Its relationship to one of
the Belvedere warriors is very strong, and the modeling of the face certainly recalls
on the whole the sculptures from Chiusi, Veii, and Orvieto. In the same geographical
area, but to a slightly later period, belongs another basic bronze work. This is the
head from Lake Bolsena, which may have been part of a votive (or honorary) statue.
The construction of the face and hair, similar to that of later funerary sculpture from
Chiusi, is accompanied by a very light outlining of facial planes and beard, giving it
softly individual features unlike the rather more mannered and academic Classicism
of the Mars.
2.2 Late Classical and Hellenistic Sculpture
The traumatic events of the conquest of Veii by Rome in 396 and of Syracusan pres-
sure on the Tyrrhenian coasts (the sack of Pyrgi in 384) triggered a change in the
Etruscan world. This was destined to accelerate with the increasing ascent of Rome,
with the overall restructuring of territorial management and the strong commitment
of the new aristocracies to occupying or reoccupying minor towns, thus starting a
process of social maturing and development that embraced and strengthened a wider

middle class. Starting from the mid fourth century, new conditions of mobility arose
from international changes, from the rise of Macedonia as a dominant power, to the
activism of Greek condottieri in southern Italy. This led to a gradual overcoming of
the cultural barriers created during the fifth century, thanks also to the dynamism of
greatly expanding Western Greek centers like Taranto. It also supported the establish-
ment of a new Mediterranean koine, whose pillars were Macedonia itself, the north-
ern Greek potentates, the more developed areas of Magna Graecia and, subsequently,
Alexandria. The whole Etrusco-Italic Middle Tyrrhenian area benefitted from the new
climate and took part in the splendid cultural flowering that marks the entire Late
Classical and Early Hellenistic period.
In the early decades of the fourth century, among the more properly Etruscan
centers of the Tiber Valley, a role of absolute prominence must be given to Falerii and
the ager faliscus, a cultural area that, lying just to the north of Rome, assumed prime
importance after the fall of Veii, including as a bastion against Roman expansion-
ism. Numerous temples must have been built or renovated during this period, follow-
ing a tradition that had already been well consolidated in the previous century. The
group of terracottas from Scasato II (ca. 380), belonging to an urban temple that may
have been dedicated to Minerva, comprises fragments of a complex composition with
divine personages and flying chariots against a backdrop of clouds. Their stylistic
characteristics—albeit obscured by a certain atony and heaviness in the faces—reveal
the strong inspiration of Attic Classical style of the late fifth century (Fig. 57.6), a style
also echoed widely in outlying environments even outside Etruria. Evidence of the
high quality achieved by Faliscan coroplastic workshops was also found in the sub-
urban sanctuary of Juno Curitis in the Celle district in the form of an extraordinary
statue of a draped female deity, still largely retaining its original polychromy; in the
suburban sanctuary of Sassi Caduti, with the fragmentary relief figure of Mercury (etr.
Turms), whose slender lower limbs recall the sensitive plasticity of an image by Prax-
iteles or an early Lysippos; and in other cult places in the area, with two figures of
Nikai (?) that are very similar to the best architectural sculpture produced by Hellenic
centers between the end of the fifth century and the early fourth.
The influence of the schools of plastai active in the Tiber Valley towns, first and
foremost at Orvieto, must have been considerable, since its traces can be recognized
in fragmentary architectural remains even in central coastal Etruria (e.g., Talamone,
Vulci) and northern inland areas, from the Val di Chiana (Castiglion Fiorentino,
Arezzo) as far as Fiesole.
Again within the context of terracotta sculpture (whether votive or, more often,
architectural), among the most significant discoveries belonging to the fourth century
(perhaps the first half) is a fine beardless head of Hercle. In a language permeated
with “Falisco-caeretan” and Latial stylistic traits, its lengthened face seems to recall
images of the Late Classical period, which had been known so far in the Middle Tyr-
rhenian environment only through a minor series of small bronzes, appliques of pre-
cious metals or relief-pottery of purely Greek and Western Greek inspiration. This rare

Fig. 57.6: Terracotta fragmentary bearded head,

from the Scasato II temple, Falerii. First half of
the fourth century. Rome, Villa Giulia (Photo
SAR-Laz)
piece contributes to our knowledge of the southern Late Classical schools that not
long after were capable of producing works of great refinement, such as the statues of
the renovated Temple A at Pyrgi, among which should be mentioned an extraordinary
“Praxitelean” Hercle (?).
In any overview of fourth century sculpture, a fundamental role, particularly in
southern Etruria, is played by images of the deceased sculpted on the lids of stone
sarcophagi that decorate the chamber tombs of members of the middle and upper
classes and of the aristocracy. Quite clearly, although wholly private, they appear to
be highly representative of the status of the deceased and sometimes even indicate
his religious or political role within the community, thus partly compensating for the
lack of actual public honorary statues. The origin of the sarcophagus with a figured
cover is still uncertain. It must have incorporated the local tradition of the cinerary
urn with the deceased semi-recumbent at a banquet or portrayed stretched out on
his deathbed, which is well attested between the Archaic and Classical periods both
in southern Etruria and, as noted above, in the Chiusi area. However, chronological
coincidences, specific typologies of lids, and the concentration of the most ancient
specimens in southern Etruria lead us to believe that even outside models were not
wholly foreign to this process.

Mid fourth century stone sarcophagi found in Etruria—such as the Sarcofago del
Sacerdote, from the tomb of the aristocratic Partunu family at Tarquinia—portray the
deceased supine on the cover in a standing (if seen from above) position. Such valu-
able marble products were created mainly for Punic customers (in Carthage) by crafts-
men of Greek training and origin (Paros?) lending the figures of the deceased features
of a purely Late Classical Greek imprint. Creations such as the bearded face attributed
to the deceased member of the Partunu family were probably well accepted in Etruria
by local craftsmen, as appears to witness the man’s face on a double sarcophagus
from Vulci that belonged to the Tetnie family and dates to the mid fourth century.
At Caere the oldest sarcophagus in the Tomba dei Sarcofagi (dating to the
second quarter or middle decades of the fourth century) reveals in the typology of
the deceased on the lid links with the just-mentioned sarcophagi of Greco-Punic
manufacture, which reached Etruria in the same period and, perhaps, even with
their anthropoid antecedents. This sarcophagus is accompanied in the same Caere-
tan tomb by other architectural type specimens, with ridged lid and with no figure
of the deceased, which in turn imitate sarcophagi from Greek workshops. The face of
the Caeretan deceased, who was certainly a person in the public eye (a magistrate?),
is characterized by an anonymous and remote dignity, permeated by “Severizing”
stylizations, which are comparable to contemporary funerary and votive sculpture
and wall-painting.
Later, from the second half of the fourth century to at least the first half of the
third, the main schools of southern Etruscan sculptors—first and foremost in the
Tarquinian area—gave rise to an abundant production of sarcophagi, as shown by
the tombs of the prominent and emerging classes in the towns and their hinterland,
whose material was the cheap local stone, nenfro. The deceased is portrayed standing
in the manner of Greco-Punic specimens, stretched out on his deathbed or banquet-
ing, with an increasingly marked twist and raising of the torso toward the onlooker.
The deceased are characterized by faces whose massive structures are often spheri-
cal, in an attempt to reproduce to some extent the features of an adult or an old man.
These faces bear traces of an intent to portray only a generalized indication of age
and social and intellectual status. This was variously interpreted over the decades.
At the beginning, faces are of sub-Polykleitan or purely Classical type, with meas-
ured plastic treatment of single traits. Later, inspiration was drawn from the best of
Late Classical and Early Hellenistic portraits, first and foremost the dynastic images
of Alexander and the Diadochoi. An echo of these images reached Etruria through
numerous channels of exchange, largely reactivated on the Italian peninsula, and
also through the fruitful presence of major Greek artists in nearby southern Italy (see
chapter 36 Haumesser). The final result of this multifaceted process of assimilation
and re-composition was consequently not the formulation of truly physiognomic
portraits, nor—as has recently been assumed (Papini)—the mechanical adoption of
Hellenistic portrait standards. This latter suggestion would consequently involve the
greatest caution in proposing a dating of Etruscan sarcophagi on the basis of their

(presumed) automatic equivalence with the portraits of eastern Mediterranean sov-

ereigns.
Such sarcophagi, however, constitute important evidence of the developments
in Etruscan sculpture at the end of the fourth century and first half of the third, also
as regards the wide repertory of reliefs that embellish the various typologies of their
boxes. This includes episodes from Hellenic and sometimes even local myth celebrat-
ing or evoking the funerary dimension (e.g. Amazonomachies) in an iconographic
guise that is largely, but not exclusively, of Western Greek origin. These subjects are
increasingly, and with an ever more rough and simplified style, accompanied by
images of the separation brought by death, of the journey to and arrival in the Nether-
world, in ambiguously-set parades (earthly or chthonian?) that may take on the char-
acter of actual magistrates’ processions, aimed at emphasizing the social prestige of
the deceased in life.
Apart from sarcophagi, the funerary sphere has also provided us with valuable,
albeit fragmentary, sculptural evidence belonging to the Late Classical and Early
Hellenistic periods. Indeed, many such fragments of stone sculpture belong to the
architectonic decoration of tombs or naiskoi. These include figured capitals with
human faces in vegetal calyxes, heads of Gorgons or of death daemons (Charun) that
probably belong to ceilings or architraves, and sculptural groups with figured scenes
(Amazonomachies). They also include images in full relief of animals and fantastic
creatures that embellished monumental tomb enclosures, discovered in the principal
towns of southern Etruria (Caere, Tarquinia, Vulci). Both the style and function of
these sculptural embellishments largely derive from the contemporary creations of
Magna Graecia (particularly Taranto). There is no lack, however, of interesting sculp-
tural specimens (e.g. Caere, Greppe Sant’Angelo) in which a conservative stylistic
approach appears to be deliberate, aimed at defined and recognized ritual messages.
Furthermore, fragments of figured funerary stelae have been found at Tarquinia, their
typology and style accompanying the sarcophagi with figures stretched out on the lid
discovered in the same town, and also hinting at partial inspiration from Greco-Punic
models. Lastly, we must mention the draped female figures of stone or marble found
at Tarquinia and around Volterra and used as funerary semata. Their iconographic-
stylistic characteristics reveal late Praxitelean models that were possibly filtered
through Western Greek (Tarentine) channels, a route that may be more clearly under-
stood today thanks also to the identification, at Taranto itself, of remains of funer-
ary monuments of certain Greek inspiration. It may also be possible to link to such
a climate some major bronzes discovered in Etruria that are of uncertain function,
chronology and attribution. These are wholly isolated, owing to our almost total loss
of the great bronze sculpture tradition. They include the Menerva of Arezzo (first half
of the third century?) and the so-called Filatrice from the Fulgur conditum at the Great
Temple of Vulci (an original of the Praxitelean period, a creation of the third–second
centuries, or of the Roman age?).

Fig. 57.7: Terracotta fragmentary male statue,

from the Scasato I temple, Falerii. Late fourth-
beginning of the third century. Rome, Villa Giulia
(Photo SAR-Laz)
The splendid architectural terracotta sculptures of the Scasato I cycle at Falerii

can satisfactorily be assigned to the dominant Late Classical/Early Hellenistic koine.
They must relate to a temple decoration dating to the end of the fourth century–begin-
ning of the third. It is possible to appreciate the great technical and formal refinement
of the decorative elements despite the extremely fragmentary nature of the remains—
including high reliefs, acroteria, and antefixes—whose overall arrangement escapes
us with regard to both its structural function and narrative content. The celebrated
bust of the youthful deity—perhaps an oracular Apollo, to whom the temple was dedi-
cated, inspired by the dynastic portraits that became established at the court of Alex-
ander—is accompanied by statues, whose Praxitelean-Skopadean features (Fig. 57.7)
appear to alternate with more Classicistic trends, and by hand-molded antefixes
of extraordinary coloristic effect. Today, they provide a valuable reference for the
roughly contemporary terracotta decoration of the Temple A recently discovered in
the Forum at Cumae. This new archaeological datum is of importance in identifying
the main topographical reference points of the international Hellenistic koine to the
north of Taranto, between by then Samnitic Campania, Mid-Republican Latium and
Etruria.
As the symbolic end to this rapid overview we must place the so-called Capitoline
Brutus, dated to around the end of the fourth century–beginning of the third. The
vivacious flow of facial features gives this image all the inflections of an honorary
portrait. It has an intense spirituality, but no truly individual features; it is a merger
of the already consolidated Etruscan capacity of experimenting with non-ideal traits

with Late Classical and Early Hellenistic elements of true Greek portraiture, traces
of which can be recognized just as much in minor handicrafts as in properly major
sculpture (portrait-statue of Demosthenes). Identifying the place where it was pro-
duced is rather more difficult, but must be sought—judging from what we have so far
examined—in southern Etruria or in the Tiberine district of Latium.
3 Painting
The basic problems with defining developments in wall painting—still essentially, if
not exclusively, from the Tarquinia area—starting from the mid fifth century draw on
the historical motivations indicated for sculpture above. This sector of artistic produc-
tion also comes to a standstill for monuments related to the second half of the fifth
century and resumed in the Late Classical and Early Hellenistic age.
3.1 A conservative art
Exacerbating the problems concerning the stylistic and chronological clarity of monu-
ments, especially during the period from the mid fifth century to about the mid fourth,
the funerary context—influenced as it was by ritual images and signs—displays a con-
siderable propensity for the persistence of several old figurative themes that celebrate
the deceased’s social role in life and his destiny in the Netherworld. Thus, tombs of this
period, as in the Late Archaic period, continue to emphasize the central importance
of scenes of the deceased banqueting, surrounded by dances, music and games in his
honor. Even the style of such scenes appears highly conservative, long preserving a
Severe or Proto-Classical, and to a certain extent even ritualistic, imprint—perhaps
because it was deemed more suitable to represent a world of traditional values solidly
rooted in Etruscan society. Stylistic and thematic updates are clearly not absent, and
have only started to be properly assessed in the last few decades, leading to a better, if
not conclusive, definition of the chronological sequence of the paintings.
Some tombs at Tarquinia that seem to assimilate innovative hints from the great
Greek paintings of Polygnotan lineage can be dated to the second quarter and the
central decades of the fifth century. The Tomba del Letto Funebre (Tomb of the Funer-
ary Bed) provides a complex, spatially articulated scene of funerary banquet and
games, dominated by a great bed that was perhaps intended to display the deceased
or to host rites for a funerary cult of the Dioscuri. The side walls of the Tomba della
Nave (Tomb of the Ship), a seascape with a trading vessel of enormously effective
realism and perspective, appear to provide an allusion to the deceased’s business
in life, sublimed in an Elysian banquet that constitutes the focal point of the entire
composition and dominates the back wall. Repertorial novelties include individual

hunting scenes (e.g. Tomba della Scrofa Nera or Tomb of the Black Sow) that replace
the more “choral” compositions of the Archaic period. A few decades later, tombs
convey a strong moral exemplum (Tomba del Biclinio or Tomb of the Biclinium) and
occasionally portray the ceremonies in honor of the deceased (Tomb Querciola I).
3.2 New Images of the Netherworld
Some of the Tarquinian tombs dating to the second half of the fifth century, such as
the Francesca Giustiniani Tomb, the Tomba della Pulcella (Tomb of the Maiden) and
the Tomba del Guerriero (Tomb of the Warrior), with their festive processions and the
first appearance of winged funerary daemons, constitute a conceptual bridge toward
the Tomba dei Demoni Azzurri (Tomb of the Blue Demons), which is now deemed to
be the turning point in Tarquinian painting of the Classical period. Indeed, it is in
this tomb, which dates to the end of the fifth century–onset of the fourth, that a new
system of funerary themes comes to the forefront. This system would be adopted and
reproduced with variants in numerous Tarquinian hypogea of the fourth and third
centuries. Studies of the various narrative themes of this monument’s painting cycle,
paralleled by those on contemporary painted funerary vases, have made it possible
to identify a Netherworld in Etruscan beliefs of this period. It is a world with well-
structured morphological and topographic features, in which the death-daemons
have differentiated tasks of supervising and assisting the deceased on their journey
to their final destination (Figure 57.8). This world does not appear to be oppressed by
any pessimistic view, as maintained on several occasions in the past. The inclusion of
daemons, also found in Greek figural art of the same period, seems to be suggested by
the overlapping of different elements (popular beliefs, the influences of the theatre)
and by the concept of the family hypogeum as the home of several generations of
deceased members. That is, the hypogeum was seen as a physical Hades, portrayed
with all its legitimate inhabitants and with the creatures that “manage” it—deities
and daemons.
In particular, on the left wall of the Tomb of the Blue Demons, the Netherworld
is located on the banks of the River Acheron, where the ferryman Charun (the Greek
demon Charon) controls the flow of souls of the deceased, allowing them to join their
family members under the vigilant eyes of other custodian and escort daemons. On
the opposite wall, a male figure is the protagonist of a triumphal chariot parade,
accompanied by musicians and dancers, that seems to be directed toward the Elysian
banquet on the back wall, the goal of the deceased at the end of their unequal and
varied journeys. The Acheron scene with the ferryman demon appears to be solidly
inspired by the iconography depicted on Greek funerary vases of the Classical period.
At the same time, it seems to echo the spatial and compositional qualities of lost mon-
umental Hellenic painting, as does the complex hunting scene on the entrance wall
(almost totally vanished). The lively plasticity and coloring of the demon figures also

Fig. 57.8: Tarquinia, Tomb of the Blue Demons: two demons of death in the Netherwold.
End of the fifth-beginning of the fourth century (after Gilotta 2005, p. 47)
gives the impression of a fairly advanced pictorial language. There is no other com-
parable work from this period, in contrast with the more traditional and still Proto-
Classical profiles of figures employed at the banquet and in the triumphal procession.
In turn, the latter, though traditional in form, seems innovatory in its commemora-
tive content, and in fact, is the forerunner of depictions of magistrates’ ceremonies
frequently found on sarcophagi and, later, in Hellenistic tombs. In short, the whole
complex simultaneously provides new themes and episodes of family commemora-
tion that were already rooted in local tradition, such as the banquet on the back wall.
It also illustrates rather vividly a profile of aristocratic culture at the time, its figura-
tive codes, and the changes taking place within it.
3.3 In the Beyond, with gods and Greek heroes, accompanied

by funerary elogia
The Tomba dell’Orco I (Tomb of the Orcus I) at Tarquinia can be dated to the second
quarter, or mid fourth century. With still firmly traditional pictorial language based
on outlined design, but in what is now a fully Classical style, its aristocratic owners
are portrayed at a funerary banquet in which the Beyond— with its daemons—is indi-
cated in an original fashion by a curtain of black clouds. In the Tomb of the Orcus II,
which dates to the third quarter of the fourth century, the Beyond is once again rep-
resented as a place wrapped in mists and black clouds, its entrance presided over by
the pair of infernal deities, Hades and Persephone. Within its landscape, which is
depicted as an infernal marsh, are portrayed heroes and characters of Greek myth—
Theseus, Pirithoos, Agamemnon, Tiresias (Fig. 19.6)—engaged in sundry narrative

contexts. In even greater detail than in the Tomb of the Blue Demons, we are dealing
with an ideological plan hinging on Greek literary and figural traditions, in which the
commemoration of aristocrats is placed in a catachthonic frame that almost precisely
coincides with the tradition of the Odyssean Nekyia. The tomb also marks the intro-
duction of innovatory painting techniques, which derive from development in major
Greek paintings, with the adoption of a hatched chiaroscuro or with a veil of denser
color around the outlines.
Roughly contemporary or slightly earlier is the Tomba degli Scudi (Tomb of the
Shields), another great Tarquinian family hypogeum, mentioned in section 1.6. Here,
the technical procedure is still traditional and does not accomplish much more than
to fairly skillfully highlight the outlines and internal details. The painter does show
considerable ability in drawing plastic monumental figures and faces with non-ideal
features, but they do not reach the level of true portraits. On the compositional side,
careful studies of the articulated funerary architecture have made it possible to iden-
tify a module-structure centered on the tomb’s founder and his father, who is seen
engaged in timeless activities in which earthly and infernal dimensions sit side by
side and somehow overlap. There is a strong emphasis on the solemnity of banquets
and magistrates’ processions, and on the inscriptions that give details of the kinship
of the protagonists and the cursus honorum of the monument’s founder.
On a similar stylistic and chronological level are the Orvietan family tombs at
Settecamini, which may also have been painted by craftsmen working at Tarquinia. In
the Golini Tomb I, the two frescoed zones represent, respectively, the lively prepara-
tions for a banquet—with images of a larder stocked with various meats and a crowd
of servants busy in the kitchen—and the Elysian banquet itself, once again taking
place in the presence of the gods of the Netherworld. A newly deceased member of
the family appears to be making his way to this banquet, portrayed on a chariot and
accompanied by a female daemon (Vanth). Here too, painted inscriptions contribute
to celebrating the memory of the deceased, recording their social rank and the public
offices held by members of the gens when alive.
Restoration and modern electronic techniques that activate the original colors
have made it possible to recover in part the narrative and stylistic legibility of another
major Orvietan tomb, the Hescanas Tomb, which can be tentatively dated to the third
quarter of the fourth century. Its walls illustrate the journey of the deceased in the
Netherworld, from his arrival on a chariot to the triumphal procession, from the
meeting with his family members, to his final point of arrival at an altar (?), where a
complex initiatory sacrificial scene appears to be taking place.
3.4 Funerary and ethical-political commemoration
Of primary importance from a historical as well as pictorial point of view is the Fran-
çois Tomb at Vulci, which dates roughly to the last third of the fourth century, and

belonged to the Saties family. Indeed, the frescoes on its central walls (the so-called
atrium and tablinum) narrate episodes of archaic Etruscan history, in which warri-
ors (each of them provided with a painted onomastic-ethnic inscription) of Vulci and
from several towns in the Tiber valley hinterland are involved in conflicts that will
end in Rome itself. These can probably be identified as the fall of king Tarquinius
and the rise of Servius Tullius in the first half of the sixth century. Over two hundred
years later in around 330, Vel Saties, the tomb’s noble owner, in exhuming these his-
toric events, mirrors them with episodes from Greek myth, which are depicted in the
same spaces. The final aim, it seems, is to celebrate the heroic nature of those distant
events, and to evoke the certainty that similar splendors will return in the present
(different but not less problematic) context. This was a context marked by Rome’s
strong expansionist drive in the direction of Vulci and central-southern Etruria. On
the more properly pictorial side, experiments with chiaroscuro hatching are accom-
panied by a certain stylistic conservatism in the tomb, which is especially evident in
some of the faces (e.g. Nestor, Phoenix). The minor friezes, on the other hand, like
the one with a meander in perspective and images of animal fights, reveal familiarity
with more recent conquests of Greek and Western Greek painting, achieved by veiling
or by points of color and hatching, and indicated by a comparison with Macedonian
monuments and Apulian ceramography.
3.5 Other evidence. The new “journey” of Sarteano
The Sarcophagus of the Amazons and the Sarcophagus of the Priest, which were
found in aristocratic tombs at Tarquinia, constitute two valuable examples of major
funerary painting other than on walls. They date to or shortly after the middle of
the fourth century, and are expressions of a composite handicraft tradition, with
Greco-Punic, Western Greek and Etruscan features. The two sarcophagi actually have
complex paintings on the sides of the box and are thus to some extent, both func-
tionally and ideologically, comparable to a painted tomb. In the Amazonomachy of
the former (Fig. 57.9), which is probably based on Western Greek (Tarantine) icono-
graphic models, a highly articulated use of color is seen that is aimed at conferring
plasticity on the figures. The color is thicker for the orbital cavities and for shaded
areas, together with a lightly hatched chiaroscuro and the use of yellow and light
blue, with skillfully applied chiaroscuro, which provides a plastic finish to bronze or
iron weapons. At the same time, as far as can be deduced from its bad state of preser-
vation, the Amazonomachy of the Sarcophagus of the Priest appears more schematic,
with a simplified perspective. The pictorial qualities of the two sarcophagi seem to
equate them with tombs such as the François Tomb at Vulci or the Tomb of Orcus II
at Tarquinia, whereas the use of mythical battles as Hellenizing images of the rough
journey from life to death recalls numerous other contemporary funerary monu-
ments, whether western Greek or Etruscan.

Fig. 57.9: Tarquinia, sarcophagus of the Amazons. Mid-third quarter of the fourth century. Florence,
Nat. Archaeol. Mus. (Photo SAT)
Unfortunately, almost totally lost are the wall paintings of public buildings,
making it all the more essential to mention the small fragment of a painted terra-
cotta slab from the sanctuary at Celle (Falerii) dedicated to Juno Curitis, which shows
the profile of a youthful head, the style and graphic conventions of which are wholly
similar to Tarquinian and Orvietan tomb frescoes of the mid fourth century.
Besides Tarquinia, Orvieto, and Vulci, painted tombs are also found, for example,
at Caere, Blera, Bomarzo, Chiusi, but it is proper to close this chapter on Late Classical
painting with the newly found Tomba della Quadriga Infernale (Tomb of the Infernal
Quadriga), which was discovered in 2003 at Sarteano, a site of strategic importance
for the control of the Val di Chiana and routes to Orvieto and Chiusi. Its paintings, tra-
ditional in their layout, and largely lacking chiaroscuro elements, date on a stylistic
basis to the last decades of the fourth century and provide evidence of strong links
with the tomb painting and still more so with contemporary ceramography of Orvieto.
This has led to the hypothesis of the direct involvement of Orvietan craftsmen, who
were clearly still active and inventive in this important sector of Etruscan artistic pro-
duction. The figured scenes, yet again centered on the Netherworld banquet presided
over by monstrous creatures (bearded snakes), include a subject otherwise unknown
in funerary wall-painting—a red-haired daemon on a wagon drawn by wild and fan-

tastic animals, who, having concluded his journey ferrying souls, starts off once more
toward the exit to collect his next load. This novelty may be taken as the metaphorical
conclusion of an entire age and an introduction to further developments of what may
be termed Hellenistic painting.
Select Bibliography
Up-to-date (1992) bibliography on architecture, sculpture, and painting, including all the basic
reference books and articles: Colonna 1994.
More recently, on architecture

Maggiani 1994; Cagianelli 1995–1996; Quilici and Quilici Gigli 2000; Bonamici 2003; Fiorini,
2005; Colonna 2006 (with rich bibl.); D’Atri 2006; Steingräber 2006b; Albers 2007; Città murata
2008; Maggiani 2008; Torelli and Fiorini 2008; Camporeale and Firpo 2009; Patitucci Uggeri
2009; Zifferero 2009; Albers 2010; Barbieri, Maggiani et al. 2010; L’Etrurie et l’Ombrie 2010; Govi
and Sassatelli 2010; Häuser 2010; Material Aspects 2010; Bagnasco Gianni 2011; Stopponi 2011;
Romualdi 2012; Cambi 2013.
On terracotta sculpture
Cicli figurativi 1993; Gaultier 1998; Baglione 2001; Gilotta 2002; Stopponi 2003; Deliciae fictiles
2006; Baglione 2008; Gaultier 2008; Stopponi 2009; Deliciae fictiles 2011.
On sarcophagi
Gentili 1997 (with up-to-date bibl.); van der Meer 2004; Haumesser 2007a; Gentili 2009.
On stone and bronze sculpture

Weber-Lehmann 1997; Scala 2003a; Scala 2003b; Maggiani 2004a; Maggiani 2004b; Papini 2004;
Bonamici 2005; Cygielman 2008; Minetti 2008; Moretti Sgubini 2008; Camporeale and Firpo 2009;
Iozzo et al. 2009; Bartoloni 2010; Sassatelli 2010.
On wall painting and painted sarcophagi

Brecoulaki 2001; Steingräber 2006a (with rich bibl); Weber-Lehmann 2006; Bottini and Setari 2007;
Descamps-Lequime 2007; Gilotta 2007; Haumesser 2007b; Pittura ellenistica 2007; Vincenti 2009;
AIPMA 2010; Pittura ellenistica 2011.
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Laura Ambrosini
Abstract: From the mid fifth to the mid third centuries BCE, the middle class aspired to identify itself
with the role played by the aristocratic families, which stimulated the production of high quality
handicrafts. These included pottery (ancient black-glazed ware with overpainted decoration in “Six’s
technique;” red-figure, silvered, yellow slip, polychrome and unglazed relief pottery; black-glazed
ware, bronzes (vessels and utensils), jewelry, and glyptic, many of which, intended to be used in life,
were buried in tombs.
Keywords: Red-figure pottery, black-glazed pottery, jewelry, glyptic
Introduction
The political and social situation of Etruria from the mid-fifth century to the mid-
third century BCE was highly diversified, depending not only on the period, but also
on region (see previous chapters)1. During the Late Classical and Hellenistic periods,
the re-occupation of the country, which was accompanied by a revival of small and
mid-size properties, is evident. The middle class aspired to identify itself with the role
played by the old aristocratic families. The middle class became important through
production and exchange activities and stimulated the production of high-quality
handicrafts,2 including pottery, bronze vessels and utensils, and jewelry, many of
which, intended to be used in life, were buried in tombs.
1 The Red-figure Pottery

Arnthe Praxias, who was active around 480 BCE, is one of the initiators of the Etrus-
can overpainting technique, which mimicked red-figure Attic pottery and called
“Six’s technique”3. His signature, written in a Chalcidian Greek alphabet, was
painted before firing on the rim and handle of an amphora now in Paris. Although it
is commonly accepted that he was a metic who used his Greek name as a gentilicium
to demonstrate his incorporation into civic society and took an Etruscan personal
1 In this chapter the most important topics were selected and necessarily synthesized; because of
space limitations only the most recent bibliography (with references) was mentioned.
2 Roma 1973; Siena 1977; Enea 1981; Maggiani 1985; Gilotta 1985; Carandini 1985; Torelli 1985;
Romualdi 1992; Gentili 2000; Emiliozzi and Maggiani 2002; Martelli 2000; Ambrosini 2013a; Ambrosini
and Jolivet 2014; Ambrosini 2016.
3 About Etruscan Red-figure pottery Martelli 1987, with references.
1080 Laura Ambrosini
Fig. 58.1: Stamnos with decoration in superposed color,

from Chiusi. Florence, Museo Archeologico Nazionale,
inv. no. Vagnonville 14 (Photo SAT)
name, he may instead have been the Etruscan son of a Greek immigrant. In the work-
shop of the Praxias Group, the hands of several painters can be distinguished.4 The
style is Sub-Archaic, and in some ways still linked to the Micali Painter. A subsidiary
of the Vulcian workshop of Praxias is the Vagnonville Group5 (Fig. 58.1), which was
probably active in Chiusi in the third quarter of the fifth century. Apart from some
strongly Atticizing large vases made in inland Etruria (Orvieto and Chiusi) even in the
fifth century—which are still connected with the black-figure (Orvieto Group) and the
Praxias Group—the real red-figure technique seems to have been born at Vulci. The
Rodin cup, made in Vulci, seems to date to around 400.6 The external decoration faith-
fully copies an Attic kylix by the Oedipus Painter found at Vulci and an amphora by
the Painter of Achilles. Later, there is Pheziu Paleś or Taleś (now read as Hezi Utaveś)7
on a kylix from Grotti (Siena) (Fig. 58.2). The artisan does not have a gentilicium, but
has only a personal name and a name, maybe, of the father rather than the master.
According to Mario Torelli, it is an Attic red-figure kylix made in Athens in the work-
shop of the Penthesilea Painter by an Etruscan slave (440) for the Etruscan market,
4 Szilágyi 1973, with references. Bruni 2013; Scarrone 2014; 2015.

5 Bruni 1993, with references.
6 Shefton 1967, with references; Lubtchansky 2013.
7 ET2, AS 7.2 with references.

Fig. 58.2: Red-figured kylix from Grotti (Siena), Tomb 3. Siena,

Museo Archeologico Nazionale, inv. no. 36602 (Photo SAT)
but according to Mauro Cristofani it is a north Etruscan red-figure kylix (similar to the
work of the Argonauts Painter) made on Attic model (380–350).8
We must also list the groups gathered around the Stamnos of Bologna 824 and the
kylikes, which mimic the Attic red-figure kylikes with Atticizing style and Lucanian
characters. The Painter of Bologna 824 and the Argonauts Painter are connected to
the technique of “superposed color” used by the successors of the Vagnonville Group.
Around the end of the fifth century the Attic “earlier red-figure” production technique
began.9 Recent research has shown that the use of the first productions of Etruscan
red-figure pottery in Etruria was intended for middle-upper class people, mostly con-
centrated in the Tiber valley and in the Val di Chiana, but also in in Volterra, in the
Apennine area, at Felsina and in the maritime commercial site of Genoa. Recently,
Martine Denoyelle10 proposed identifying the Perugia Painter (one of the painters of
this early production active at the end of the first decades of the fifth–fourth centu-
ries) with the Lucanian Arnò Painter, who would be transferred to Etruria.11 Fernando
Gilotta stressed that these contacts with Lucanian pottery generally involve the
Creusa-Dolon Group, the Intermediate Group, and the Primacy Group.12 The vases of
8 Torelli 1985, 129 fig. 79; Cristofani 1987, 231 fig. 178.1, 329, with references; Bruni 2013, 303; also
Colonna 2014, 60, 73, fig. 18 who read the inscription: Hezi Utaveś, i.e. Hezi (slave) of Utave.
9 Gilotta 2003, with references; Melli 2009; Gilotta 2014.
10 Denoyelle 1993.
11 See now Gilotta 2014.
12 Gilotta 2003.

Fig. 58.3: Red-figured bird askos from the Cinci Collection. Florence,
Museo Archeologico Nazionale, inv. no. 4232 (Photo SAT)
the Argonauts Painter are linked with the Protolucanian Amykos Painter (last quarter
of the fifth century). The transfer of craftsmen from Magna Graecia to Etruria is prob-
ably connected with the foundation of Thurii (444/443). Etruscan and native buyers—
and not just urban ones—adhered to especially Attic cultural models, transmitted
primarily through Italiot mediation, during the second half of the fifth century. Falis-
can red-figure pottery began to be made in Falerii Veteres around 380–370 with the
transfer of Attic artisans to the Ager Faliscus (e.g., the Del Chiaro Painter). This phe-
nomenon has been linked both to the economic crisis that resulted from the Pelopon-
nesian War and to the devastating effects of the plague (430).13 In addition, the arrival
of Attic red-figure vases at Falerii Veteres in the first decades of the fourth century14
certainly brought new life to local pottery production. This new life is evident in the
iconography, the scenic composition of scenes, the style, and the technique. Around
380 at Falerii Veteres there was a transfer of Greek craftsmen, who began to make red-
figure pottery.15 The Del Chiaro Painter, founder of workshop A, identified by Bened-
etta Adembri, was probably a Greek (an Attic painter of the Jena Painter circle), but
the next generation of painters was already of local origin. The workshop continued
to operate in the following decades with the Nepi Painter and the Diespater Group,
who accepted both Attic and Italiot stimuli and adapted them to a very local taste.
Two other workshops, B and C, were active and headed by the Painter of Vienna 4008
(370) and the Villa Giulia Painter 8361 (360) respectively. The Painter of London F 484
13 See Ambrosini 2005, 317, with references; Ambrosini 2009b, with references.
14 Ambrosini 2009b.
15 Adembri 1990.

Fig. 58.4: Red-figured stamnos from the Chigi Zondadari

Collection Funnel Group. Siena, Museo Archeologico
Nazionale, without inv. no. (Photo SAT)
and the Painter of the Vatican Biga worked in a workshop connected to the Faliscan
atelier and to the Lucanian products. Their vases circulated mainly in Vulci. The Cam-
panizing Group16 in the second quarter of the fourth century made vases in southern
Etruria and Falerii with a Campanizing/Paestanizing language. The Settecamini
Painter worked in inland Etruria (Chiusi or Orvieto), and was inspired by Faliscan
painters. The Vanth Painter,17 who had Faliscan training, produced monumental
vases for tombs in his workshop in Orvieto. In the third quarter of the fourth century,
the Clusium Group18 (Fig. 58.3), created kylikes, plastic terra-cotta vases, and small
skyphoi and disseminated them to Chiusi and the Val di Chiana; while later, around
320 two workshop teachers moved to Volterra and specialized in the production of
large column-kraters (kelebai) (Fig. 58.4)—which were intended primarily for funerary
use—and stamnoi. The tondi of kylikes are decorated with scenes related to Dionysian
or erotic themes. This production seems not to have derived—as was previously
thought—from a branch of the Faliscan kylikes of the mid fourth century, because it
was contemporaneous with them. The northern Etruria output had three phases:
16 Bocci Pacini 1979.

17 Dragoni 2006, with references.
18 Rastrelli 2009; Gilotta 2010, with reference; Harari and Franceschini 2014.

Fig. 58.5: Red-figured kelebe from Asciano,

Poggio Pinci, tomb 3. Asciano,
Museo Archeologico, inv. no. 189
(after Martelli 1987, 234 fig. 179.4)
early (340–330), transitional (330–310), and fully-developed (310–300). The scenes,

often with funerary meaning, seem to depict initiation rites and/or the transfer of
persons related to the sphere of Dionysus.19 The production of the Alcestis Group and
of the Turmuca Group can be located in the Vulci area20. This red-figure pottery is rife
with iconographic and symbolic religious meaning, which is also evident in the
Funnel Group.21 The Funnel Group (Fig. 58.5), which had been considered Vulcian
(possibly with a Tarquinian branch), was recently assigned by Gilotta to craftsmen
with Faliscan training. Two famous Fould stamnoi,22 one with a Dionysiac scene and
the other with stories of Achilles, and a chalice-krater are assigned to the Hague
Painter, the leader of the Frontal Workshop of the Funnel Group, who was active
around 300. He was a skilled designer, attentive to spatial effects, chiaroscuro, and
anatomy. The Faliscan workshops in the mid-fourth century began making more
standardized vases for the middle class, especially kylikes, mainly with Dionysian
themes—at first, with the relief line (class α, Würzburg 818), and then without (class β,
19 Cristofani 1995. See now also Ambrosini 2013c.

20 See now Pieraccini and Del Chiaro 2014.
21 Del Chiaro 1974; Harari 1990; Coen 2013; Massa Pairault 2014, 381–382.
22 Villard and Gaultier 1985.

Würzburg 820). The output of the Faliscan workshops in the second half of the fourth
century was standardized and of ordinary quality, with figured scenes with erotic or
Dionisiac themes (Faliscan Figured Group, 340–280); the Full Sakkos Group23, named
for the distinctive headgear worn by the women on the vases, and the Barbarano
Group, which consists of oinochoai decorated with a female head in profile. The Fluid
Group is late Faliscan, and takes its name from the appearance of thinned paint on
most of the vases.24 The style is smooth, rounded, easy, and plenty of water, according
to the definition of John Beazley25. The meander has the “soft” form, with no relief
line. The vases are stamnoi, amphorae, calyx-kraters, oinochoai, skyphoi, and so on,
and feature the themes of Nikai, Dionysos, Maenads, and Satyrs. Caeretan figural pro-
duction (340–300/280), dependent on the Faliscan, can be identified. In the Caeretan
Figured Group, the oldest painter—and one of the most prolific—was the Villa Giulia
Caeretan Painter, who was probably still working at Falerii, in the Faliscan-Caeretan
style), and later moved to Caere (Caeretan old, middle, and recent styles).26 The Torcop
Group27 of the second half of the fourth to the early third century is named for the
vases in the museums of Toronto and Copenhagen. The vases are oinochoai decorated
with women’s faces in profile (two on the body and one on the neck). Mario Del Chiaro
suggests Caere as the location of production, and dates it to between the second half
of the fourth and the early third century. The Torcop Group was much more widely
distributed than the Caeretan figured vases, including to coastal Etruria and the Falis-
can and Latin areas.28 In this period, the Genucilia plates were a very widespread
pottery class; Del Chiaro’s study is still fundamental.29 The eponymous plate in Provi-
dence, Rhode Island (USA), which might have been purchased at Falerii Veteres, has
the name Poplia Genucilia painted below the foot. The first name is typical of the
Faliscan area;30 the gentilicium is attested in the nearby countryside Ager Capenas at
Lucus Feroniae. The production began at Falerii Veteres in the third quarter of the
fourth century (350–325) and then continued in Caere. The plates are decorated with
a female head (in both the Faliscan and the Caeretan versions) or with a star (in the
23 Del Chiaro 1964.

24 For the relationship with the Alto Adriatica pottery made in Picenum see Ambrosini 2003b.
25 Beazley 1947, 133.
26 Jolivet 1982 for the Group; Ambrosini 2009a, 49–50, with references, for the Painter.
27 Ambrosini 2009a, 52–53, with references.
28 For the finds in Corsica see Ambrosini 2007.
29 Del Chiaro 1957. Ambrosini 2009a, 53–56, with references; Ambrosini 2014a; Torelli 2014. For the
Mario Del Chiaro Archive of Etruscan Vase-Painting at the Getty Research Institute see Ambrosini
2014d.
30 M. Torelli highlighted the dedication M. T. V. Genucilio sen l(iberti) / Feroneai dedit on a base from
the sanctuary of Lucus Feroniae, dated to the second half of the second century. According to him
sen would be sen(atoris), so the patron of the three liberti would be a Roman senator (Torelli 2014,
423–424).

Fig. 58.6: Stamnoid situla in silvered pottery, probably

from Chiusi. Chiusi, Museo Nazionale Etrusco, inv. no. 62523
(Photo SAT)
Caeretan). But there were also local products.31 Coin-devices and shield’s episemata,
according to Torelli, inspired the decoration of the plates. The Genucilia plates were
popular in tombs, votive deposits, buildings related to worship, and the sanctuaries
of Latium and Etruria. According to Torelli the main function of the Genucilia plates
was ceremonial—to receive symbolic (or not) parts of food during the public (such as
the hecatombs to Hercules) or private feasts in homes for the cult of the dead in the
graves or of Lares. The silvered32 (Fig. 58.6), yellow slip, polychrome, and unglazed
relief pottery was created with the aim of mimicking metal prototypes. Volsinian,
Faliscan, and Volterran products have been identified. Their contacts with Apulia and
Macedonia are noteworthy. For example, oinochoe shape VI is borrowed from Mace-
donian specimens (Stauropolis, Derveni, Arzos, and Vergina)33. In the repertoire there
are many scenes of Amazons, derived from the decoration of the Mausoleum of Hali-
carnassus and revised and distributed through cartoons in the Etruscan and Italiot
31 Ambrosini 2009a, 55, with references.

32 Ambrosini 2010c, with references.
33 For the oinochoe shape VI see Krauskopf 1984.

areas. There are the labors of Herakles—which are also found in Greece and Magna
Graecia on mirror cases and helmets.34 In the second half of the fourth century, black-
glazed ware with overpainted decoration, which initially mimicked Attic red-figure
ware, spread35. During the fourth century, the presence of Greek metics (probably
from Campania) is attested by the signature Sokra(tes) on a overpainted vase of the
mid fourth century from Falerii Veteres, head of a large production for the middle
classes (Sokra Group).36 The Phantom Group was started by a Faliscan artist who emi-
grated to Caere (Jolivet) or to Tarquinia (Pianu) at the time of the war of 358–351, in
which Tarquinia and Falerii Veteres were allied against Rome.37 Stefano Bruni sug-
gests a greater articulation of production in several sites (one probably in Latium).38
Bruni’s hypothesis, pending confirmation, would even make it likely that this group
was widely distributed in southern Latium and Rome itself. This group is connected
to the Ferrara T 585 Southern Group or the Palmetta Southern Group39 (late fourth or
early third century), which includes skyphoi with white triangular palmettes within a
metope. The technical characteristics of the Saint Valentin Group40 vases and of the
imitation of Gnathia Style41 vases seem to refer back to southern Etruria, especially to
Tarquinia. Many features demonstrate the transmission of technical know-how that
took place through direct contact between craftsmen, perhaps by Apulian artisans
who moved from Apulia to Etruria.42 For that period, the problem has especially been
discussed in relation to the creation of the Pocola deorum.43 Dated to between the late
fourth and the early decades of the third century, these are a small number of vases
with overpainted inscriptions and—almost always—overpainted decorations, which
were influenced by Apulian vase painting and connected to the vases produced by the
Atelier des Petites Estampilles. The figure of Eros predominates, enriched with accla-
mations in Latin of many deities, which include some of those for whom cults were
introduced in Rome between 303 and 291, such as Salus, Bellona, Venus, and Aescu-
lapius. Cristofani thought that the production of Pocola deorum was related to the
transfer of Vulcian artisans to Rome after the Roman conquest of Vulci in 280. The
Hesse Group (300–280) is connected with the Pocola deorum in its painting technique
of painting. The vases of the Group, which are tentatively attributed to Vulci, have
overpainted decoration, but the style is more properly Etruscan. They have close con-
34 Ambrosini 2010a.
35 Bruni 1992.
36 Michetti 1993, with references; Ambrosini 2013b L. Ambrosini, in Ambrosini and Pellegrini 2015.
37 For the Phantom Group see Ambrosini 2009a, 59–60, with references; Pianu 1978, 184.
38 Bruni 1992, 62.
40 Bruni 1992.
42 Ambrosini 2009c, 130; Ambrosini 2010a.
43 Cifarelli, Ambrosini, and Nonnis 2002–3, with references; Ambrosini 2012.

tacts with the Gnathia pottery of Taranto, although the quality of the Apulian vases is
much higher. Etruscan figural pottery was superseded by black-glazed ware,44 which
thereafter was destined to predominate not only in Etruria, but also in the Mediterra-
nean basin.
2 Bronze vessels and utensils

Candelabra45 continued to be made until the second half of the fourth century,
although southern Etruria seems to have been more engaged in the production of
thymiateria of the tripod type (Vulcian, Faliscan, Volsinian, and Todi versions) and
the portable type (the “Curunas type” from Tarquinia) (Fig. 58.7).46 The candelabra,
made of bronze, was a luxury item for the wealthy classes, while the vast majority
of the population used tallow candles, pitch or torches. The large bronze “lamp”
with multiple noozles from Cortona,47 an object of exceptional size, was evidently
intended to be exposed in a sanctuary, as was the more recent find in the sanctuary
of Fucoli in Chianciano.48 More modest lamps have been found in the hypogeum of
the Volumni49. During the Archaic period, Vulci had dominated bronze production
in southern Etruria, but Orvieto took part as well. Orvieto is also believed to have
manufactured various vases, tools, and mirrors. Relief mirrors were also made at
Vulci.50 Mirrors seem to have been made at Volsinii51 around the late fifth century,52
which show scenes that are directly dependent on the Attic red-figure vases of the
third and fourth quarter of the fifth century. This continued during the first half of
the fourth century with the San Francisco Group. Data relating to the discovery of
the mirrors of this group seem to orient the location of the workshop to Orvieto, with
circulation in coastal and southern Etruria, through the Tiber Valley, and to northern
and inland Etruria.53 As for mirrors from Perugia, Marisa Bonamici has demonstrated
that workers transferred from Latium to revitalize an existing local tradition. These
mirrors exhibit iconographic motifs of Paestan or Italiot origin, perhaps by way of
Palestrina, because they are similar to those attested in the production of Praenes-
44 Morel 1981.
45 Ambrosini 2013d, with references.
46 Ambrosini 1999; Ambrosini 2002; Ambrosini 2011b.
47 Weight about 58 kg and diam. 60 cm. See now van der Meer 2014, containing all the references.
48 Diam. more than 1.50 m. Rastrelli 1993a, 351, fig. 1; Rastrelli 1993b, 474, Pl. XIC; Rastrelli and
Paolucci 1997, 76–7, fig. 62.
49 See now L’Ipogeo 2011, 31–2, figs. 15–6, 103, figs. 10a–b, 128, fig. 5, most of all 137, with references.
50 Carpino 2003.
51 Ambrosini 2005.
52 Ambrosini 2003a.
53 Mangani 2005, 648–49; also Ambrosini 2003a, 426, with references.

Fig. 58.7: Bronze thymiaterion of the portable type. Florence,

Museo Archeologico Nazionale, inv. no. 70848 (photo SAT)
tine cysts and Etruscan red-figure pottery.54 In Etruria, circular mirrors55 with tang
cast in one piece with the disk, for attaching a handle of a different material (ivory
or especially bone), continued to be made until the end of the fourth/beginning of
the third century. This type of mirror, with one, two, or three figures was still being
made in the second half of the fourth century.56 The disks are normally thinner and
the concavity of the reverse becomes slightly more pronounced. At that time began
the production of mirrors with the disk cast in one piece with the handle (Fr. “miroir
à manche massif”). The handles regularly terminate in an animal head, either a ram
or a deer. In the late mirrors, the disks are smaller in diameter but have a strongly
curved profile and thickened rim. In the Lasa Mirror Group,57 the name is often con-
ventionally applied to a nude female winged figure, a spirit associated with adorn-
ment or anointment. Tang mirrors (type A Wiman) do not appears after the first half
of the third century. The chronological limit for the late Lasa mirrors of the tang
type, indicated by the context of the finds, is the end of the fourth/beginning of the
third century. Study of their contexts years ago showed that the tombs in southern
Etruria in which Lasa mirrors of the cast-handle type (type B: 1-2-3 Wiman) (Fig. 58.8)
were found dated to the beginning of the third and the mid second century, those
in Picenum (Ager Gallicus) to the second half of the third century and those in
54 Bonamici 2002, 87; Ambrosini 2010a, 64.

55 CSE Italia 7.
56 For the inscriptions see Ambrosini 2009d and Ambrosini 2010b.
57 Ambrosini 1996, with references; Cateni 2002.

Fig. 58.8: Lasa bronze mirror type B:1 from Volterra. Volterra,
Museo Etrusco Guarnacci, inv. no. MG 4330 (Photo SAT)
northern Etruria to the first half of the second century.58 The subsequent publica-
tion by Gabriele Cateni of Volterran funerary contexts containing a mirror and some
datable objects such as coins (given the controversial dating of “the “weight reduc-
tions” of the coins), seems to have generally confirmed the chronology proposed
for Lasa mirrors in northern Etruria.59 The dating of the Dioskouroi Group, with
images of the Dioskouroi facing each other, is also controversial. The same is true
of the localization of their centers of manufacture, because these mirrors have been
found at a wide range of sites in Etruria. Most scholars support the assignment of
the Kranzspiegelgruppe to Volsinii (or Chiusi).60 They date from the second half of
the fourth century for the best mirrors, to the third century, with some even in the
second century (according to some scholars). A recent study stressed that the earli-
est mirrors of the Kranzspiegelgruppe, which have been found in funerary contexts
dating from the late fourth and early third centuries, were intended for aristocratic
families living in the Volsinian countryside. The problem is certainly more complex
58 Ambrosini 1996, 87.

59 Cateni 2002.
60 Della Fina 2002, with references; CSE Italia 4, 23, with references.

for the most recent mirrors of the same type, with schematic scenes. There were more
workshops, in both southern and northern Etruria, as the distribution of the mirrors
shows.61 In Etruria, as in Magna Graecia and Macedonia, the use of the mirror case
(Ger. Klappspiegel) spread at this time.62 The mirror case, which was invented at the
end of the fifth century in workshops in Athens, Corinth, and Chalcis, was found in
Etruria from the end of the fourth century and was widespread in the third in Tar-
quinia, Vulci, Tuscania, Caere, Elba, and elsewhere. There are also many representa-
tions of hinged boxes for mirrors on Volterran urns. Especially in northern Etruria,
from the third to the first century the mirror could be placed in the depression carved
inside the wooden clamshell box. Bronze vessels63 from the second half of the fifth to
the fourth century were well shaped for the symposium, and intended for the middle
class. The decline of the symposium as an institution, however, led to a reduction
in the variety of vase shapes (the shapes seem to be more widely linked to eating a
meal, than to drinking wine). As shown below, this phenomenon is connected to the
imitation of metal vessels with silver or black-painted pottery (especially the Mala-
cena made in Volterra). Among the vases is the bronze flask of the first Cianferoni
type, which was made in Chiusi between the second half of the third and the early
second century. These artifacts spread not only to Clusium and the surrounding terri-
tory, but as far as southern and northern—and including coastal—Etruria, the land of
the Umbrians (Spello), and the Gallic sites of Picenum (Montefortino of Arcevia). The
decorative elements of this type of flask are common on the precious vessels of the
Hellenistic period from Dacia, Boeotia, Bithynia, and Magna Grecia.64 Even in metal
vessels, the Amazonomachy is the predominant theme.65
3 Jewelry
Specific laws in Archaic Greece and Rome gradually limited the use of gold in the private
sphere, transferring it to the public sphere and to sanctuary treasures. During the fifth
century there was self-regulation as to the exhibition of luxury during the funeral in sites
in southern (especially Tyrrhenian) Etruria, perhaps under the influence of Roman laws.
Jewels are less numerous; they are more plentiful in the cities of the inland Etruria. Many
such precious jewels are also depicted on clay votive statues (such as the very famous
example from Lavinium), tomb paintings, bronze statuettes, mirrors, and so on.66

62 Anderson 1981; Jucker 1988; Pochmarski 1988, with references.
63 See e.g. Krauskopf 1980; Del Chiaro 1984; Bini, Caramella, and Buccioli 1995.
64 Ambrosini 2014b.
65 Ambrosini 2009c, 130; Ambrosini 2010a, 64, figs. 27–28.
66 On Etruscan jewelry: Cristofani and Martelli 1983; Castor 2010b; Gaultier 2014; Guzzo 2014.

Fig. 58.9: Gold leaf crown from Volterra, Portone necropolis. Volterra, Museo Etrusco Guarnacci,
inv. no. 4 (Photo SAT)
Diadems
From the late fifth century, diadems decorated with embossed ends (for example, the
peacock, a symbol of death and rebirth that was perhaps connected to Dionysus, as
well as the Silenus mask) were used. The crowns (Fig. 58.9)—which are particularly
evidenced in Volterra, Vulci, and Chiusi—seem to end at the end of the third century.67
The scope of this ideological ornamentation may be related to the military sphere,
and are perhaps connected with triumphal ceremonies and worship (the Orphic reli-
gion). Some differences in iconography and techniques allow identification of Etrus-
can make and distinction from that of Magna Graecia. The crowns from the Greek
peripheral world—and in particular the Black Sea colonies and Macedonia—do not
seem to be typologically related to the Etruscan ones. It seems that in Etruria funerary
use of the metal crown was usually connected to beliefs of the Dionysian type or to
other mysteries.68
Earrings
The a grappolo earring type circulated in Etruria during the Late Classical and Early
Hellenistic periods. A recent study confirms that the a grappolo earring type was
purely an Etruscan creation with no close Greek predecessor.69 The contexts of the
finds show that this type of earring appeared by the second or third quarter of the
67 Coen 1999.
68 Ambrosini 2010a, 66, with references.
69 Castor 2010a, 166.

Fig. 58.10: Gold earrings with head of an African from Riparbella, Volterra. Volterra, Museo Etrusco
Guarnacci, inv. no. 91 (Photo SAT)
fifth century, and was used until the end of the fourth/beginning of the third. The
tube earring, which seems to stem from older forms such as cornet earrings, seems
especially prevalent in northern Etruria. These examples are widespread, being
found at Vulci, Pyrgi, Volterra and the surrounding area, Bettona, and Volsinii. The
use of earrings with lion heads (such as from Caere and Volterra) relates to Macedo-
nia and arrived in Etruria in the late fourth century by way of the Taranto area. In
Etruria were found not only earrings made in Magna Graecia (mostly in Taranto, such
as those from the François Tomb in Vulci),70 but even earrings depicting the heads of
African people (in amber instead of garnet)71 (Fig. 58.10), which, while using Taranto
models, are likely Etruscan-made. Other earrings of a Magna Graecia type, found in
Apulia, were imitated in Etruria, including those with figured pending, little bells,
amphoras, or glass paste birds. In Vulci have been found earrings type V b Schojer,
with a pendant of a bunch of grapes (or a variant with glazed grapes hanging from
the disk), dated at the end of the third or the early second century, and earrings of
type II D Schojer with disc and triple glass paste pendant in the shape of a bird. At
both Vulci and at Chiusi, earrings of type II D Schojer with disc and triple pendant
70 Ambrosini 2010a, 68, with references. For the typology see Schojer 1984.
71 Ambrosini 2009c, 130; 2010a, 66 figs. 36–37.

with a glass paste bird have been found. Ettore Maria De Juliis believes that buttons
depicting the head of Medusa—characteristic of a Taranto workshop—found in Tomb
1 of Peschiera in Todi,72 are gold foil studs for clothes or belts. Pelta earrings and
disco earrings with inverted pyramid, which concisely reproduces types that were
common in Taranto in the fifth and fourth centuries, are also attested between the
third and second centuries.
Rings, necklaces and bullae

As for rings, there is the Fortnum Group, named for a collector73. Devised in the late
fifth century but only becoming popular in the fourth, these rings have an almond-
shaped bezel, with heroic episodes and love scenes. Between the Classical and Early
Hellenistic ages, eye-shaped rings are common: they have a large oval relief bezel of
obvious apotropaic significance, decorated with beads, animal (lions or dolphins, for
example) or plant matter images. In both rings and necklaces, the Heraklean knot—
which signified luck—is attested from the fourth century. Disk-shaped bullae74 in
necklaces with pendants, decorated with embossed ornaments, were typically worn
by boys, but were also part of women’s outfits. Bullae with a talismanic value have
mythological subjects that are generally connected to the sphere or have apotropaic
significance. Mythical characters were taken as a model of ethical reference behavior.
The single bulla has been interpreted as an attribute of the puer ingenuus, to connote
a particular status, but, according to Alessandra Coen, it is related to some aspects
of Dionysian (like the necklaces with multiple bullae, which were worn by women).
There was certainly a workshop for bullae and diadems in Clusium. The jewels found
in Picenum, ascribed mainly to Vulci,75 show that the path from Vulci through the
Tiber area to the towns of Umbria and the Picenum was still active. The Macedonian
taste for the lonchía necklace (with thick lanceolate pendants) spread beginning in
the last decades of the fourth century.
4 Glyptic
There is clearly a decline in Etruscan inscriptions on scarabs, which peaked during the
period of the Severe style76. Peter Zazoff suggests that the southern Etruscan carving
72 Ambrosini 2010a, 68, with full references; Cristofani and Martelli 1983, 309 no. 230 (M.A. Rizzo).
73 Boardman 1966.
74 Coen 2005, with references.
75 Coen 2007.
76 Martelli 2000 and Hansson 2014 about Etruscan glyptic. Ambrosini 2011a for inscripted scarabs
in Etruria.

workshops were at Caere or Vulci, while Marina Martelli suggests that they were at
Tarquinia. Martelli considers this location most plausible because it is supported not
only by the style and distribution of the scarabs, but also by the paleographic charac-
teristics of the inscriptions that accompany the images. From the mid to the late fifth
century, the glyptic passed through the “Middle” style, from the “Severe” style to the
“Free” style, with softer shapes. The style at the end of the fifth century was close to
the Greek model because the figures moved more freely in space. Most of the figures
seem selected from and linked to Etruscan religion, with all that is connected to it,
including the sacrifices, divination, and otherworldly beliefs. The a globolo scarabs
constitute a large and distinctive group of Etrusco-Italic intaglios. Their engraved
devices (human and animal figures) consist of a limited number of round cavities
achieved by using the spherical drill and the disk-shaped drill. The name refers to the
technique by which the figures are composed. The contexts of finds indicate a wider
social stratification among owners of gems probably used as seal than was previously
attested.77 They come from Etruria, Campania, Apulia, and the islands, and, outside
Italy, the wider Mediterranean and Black Sea areas. The datable contexts clearly show
that, though they began to be made in the late fifth century, the majority of items
were deposited after the mid fourth century and no later than the early decades of the
third. The peak of production was during the years 325–275, or about two generations.
Ulf Hansson believes that some motifs that are less commonly attested in Etruscan
culture, and which have been incorporated into the repertory of the globolo gemseals,
are Latin and South Italian influences.78 The end of Etruscan gem production is dif-
ficult to pinpoint. The Etruscan workshop may have continued to produce ringstones
(gems intended to be set into metal finger-rings). The ringstones vary in shape from
circular to oval or more angular, and depict figures from the Greek myth or anony-
mous male or female figures, few with inscriptions written in Latin letters. Between
the third and the second centuries ringstone workshops seem to have been created in
central and southern Italy. The influence of Etruscan engravers seems to be active on
later Italic and Roman-Republican workshops.
5 Conclusions
In the Hellenistic Etruria various production centers were engaged in the creation
of artistic objects for the upper middle class. This class, thanks to the economic and
social transformation, often partecipated to the political government of the cities
and wants to regain possession of the status symbols of the oligarchic class. The
77 For the depiction of the artisans on Etruscan-Italic gems see Ambrosini 2014c.
78 Hansson 2005, 142.

future economical development will see a more standardized production for a greater
number of people. Slave activity in the workshops become more intense.
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Petra Amann
Abstract: The economic crisis of the southern Etruscan coastal metropolises in the second half of the
fifth century bce, whose social consequences are unfortunately little known to us, appears to have
been overcome by a systematic reorganization of the territory at the beginning of the fourth century.
The previously broader urban upper class developed into an increasingly elitist oligarchy of the nobil-
ity, in which a few gentes, strategically scattered across the territory, set the political and social tone.
This circumstance was characteristic for all of Etruria and persisted until the merger into the Roman
state, which promoted the status quo in its own interests. Large-scale landholdings now once again
functioned as the economic basis of the nobility; ancestor cults, outward representation, and exhibi-
tions of luxury were integral patterns of behavior of these elites.
Contrasting with them, especially in the larger and smaller urban centers, were large parts of
the population who we shall call the free middle classes. The epigraphic and archaeological evidence
from the funerary realm reveal their existence. This is true for cities in inner Etruria like Chiusi and
Perugia (with their many funerary inscriptions of Etruscan citizens) as well as for coastal Tarquinia.
Their rights were not equal to those of the principes. Transition to the lower class, the urban prole-
tariat, was probably also fluid in Etruria. It seems that free men in rural northern Etruria could be
small landowners, while in the south, beginning in the third century, they were adversely affected by
large-scale Roman land confiscations. Although it is continually suggested in both older and newer
research, there exists no concrete evidence of “half-free” classes of population. Client-patron relation-
ships created a moderate balance of interests that lay in private rather than state hands. Slaveholding
increased sharply in the Late Etruscan period; slaves worked in the fields of the large landowners,
in manufacturing, in the metal industries (e.g. Populonia), and in private households. In contrast to
Rome, most freedmen did not immediately achieve citizenship; as a rule only their descendants were
entitled to it. Social tensions could lead to open revolts (e.g., in Arretium, Volsinii veteres); but the
unclear terminology of the ancient authors and the indubitably broad front of discriminated persons
strongly hinder a deeper understanding of these events.
The tendencies toward social liberalization typical of the Hellenistic period are also perceptible
in Etruria; the weakening of the rigid Archaic family structures brought the female element more
freedom (e.g. matrimonial law). The epigraphic documentation of women is now more substantial
than in the sixth and fifth centuries—especially in funerary inscriptions, but also in dedicatory ones—
but clearly remains less substantial than that of men. In the aristocratic environment, proud female
figures made their appearance along the lines of Roman matrons; they played an important role as
a means of alliance between the great gentes, but always against the background of basic inequality
of rights.
Keywords: oligarchy, middle class, freedmen, social revolts, female element
1 Crisis in the south and resurgence of the nobility

Archaeology tells us that beginning in the middle of the fifth century BCE, large parts
of southern Etruria (and Rome as well) began to slip into an economic and cultural
1102 Petra Amann
crisis,1 although this was less true for the interior and the more northerly regions
(e.g. Volsinii veteres, Populonia, Pisa).2 The reasons for this decline were probably
complex; alongside foreign misadventures against the Greeks, domestic tensions,
whose exact nature remains to be clarified by future research, must have been highly
significant. The migratory movements of central Italic tribes, which had a consider-
able impact on the overland trading routes heading south (Aequi, Volsci, Hernici) and
ultimately led to the loss of the Campanian colonies (Samnites/Campanians), contrib-
uted to the intensification of the situation. The fact is, a reorientation of the market
in the direction of the eastern Po plain (with its important ports of Spina and Adria)
set in at the middle of the century. It is probable that the economic recession in the
southern coastal centers must have especially strongly hit the urban middle classes,
whose members earned their living as traders and craftsmen. Unfortunately, we know
very little of the social impact of these developments.
Overall, the southern Etruscan city-states were strong enough to overcome this
temporary crisis by the beginning of the fourth century. They did so by means of a
deliberate reorganization of their territory, as can be shown particularly in the case
of Tarquinia, where modern research likes to speak of an “internal colonization” with
the activation or reactivation of the smaller centers (such as Tuscania, Castel d’Asso,
Norchia, Musarna, and Ferento).3 Major port settlements such as Pyrgi had in fact lost
their international character, but in the early fourth century again became tempting
targets for looters, as shown by the raid that took place in 384, in which the Syracu-
sans seized rich booty and many prisoners (Diod. Sic. 15.14.3; Strabo 5.226).
The driving force of this reorganization of the territory was the urban upper class
of the respective urban centers, or more precisely only some of it, and in fact prob-
ably only those families who were landowners or in a position to acquire land. For,
beginning in the fourth century, a situation appears throughout Etruria that can be
described as an increasingly elitist oligarchy of the nobility. At the same time, a par-
allel (re)evaluation of the gentilic structures took place, so that the end result was a
few large gentes—strategically spread across the territory and probably with a con-
siderable entourage—setting the political and social tone in the various city-states of
Etruria. They include, among others, the Spurinna in Tarquinia, the Satie in Vulci, the
Leinie in Volsinii, the Velimna (Volumnii) in Perugia, the Cilnie (Cilnii) in Arretium
(one of them was the friend and political companion of Augustus, C. Cilnius Maece-
1 For example, there was a gradual decline in the presence of Greeks at the so-called emporion-
sanctuaries as well as in imported Attic ceramics, which also holds for the number of painted chamber
tombs in Tarquinia in the second half of the century. See among others Colonna 1990, 7–9, 18.
2 On these regions, which are not very well known, see Maggiani 1990. On Greek ceramics in Etruria,
see also Reusser 2002 and chapter 56 Reusser.
3 In the late sixth and first half of the fifth centuries, these small centers had been considerably
curtailed by the urban centers. Colonna 1990, 12, 17; Torelli 1990, 193; 1995, 114.

59 Society, 450–250 BCE 1103
nas), and the Caicna (Caecina) in Volterra.4 This situation remained essentially intact
until the final incorporation of Etruria into the Roman world in 90 BCE. No longer
relevant to Late Etruscan development was Veii, only 17 km distant from Rome, which
already in 396 (respectively 388) fell to its old rival (Livy 5.19–22; Diod. Sic. 14.93.2).
Rome enslaved a large part of Veii’s population and incorporated the conquered ter-
ritory, and through individual land appropriations divided it among its own people,
which helped to relieve the social pressure in the emerging settlement on the Tiber.
The major Etruscan gentes had branches in the smaller centers of the territory
and are recurrently cited in the local magistratal inscriptions (such as the Tarquin-
ian gens Alethna in Musarna and the gens Curuna in Tuscania).5 The custom of the
cursus honorum is documented considerably more clearly in southern Etruria than
in the northern part of the land. Alliances by marriage within and outside of their
own spheres of influence furthered internal solidarity between these gentes (social
endogamy).6 Especially revealing is the funerary epigrapm of Larthi Cilnei, which
presumably comes from one of the necropolises of Tarquinia and probably belongs to
the early third century bce.7 The text confirms marriage contacts between two politi-
cally eminent families, the Cilnii of Arretium and the gens Spurinna of Tarquinia.
These can more easily be categorized because, thanks to the Elogia Tarquiniensia,
we know of Tarquinia’s (not precisely datable) political-military assistance, under
the command of a certain Aule Spurinna, of the aristocratic elite of Arretium.8 Natu-
rally there will also have been internal power struggles within the local aristocracies,
which—as is sometimes suggested—in the case of Chiusi might have provoked the
invasion of Celtic groups.9
In order to legitimize their own position of power, the leading families now
again strongly sought connection to the ancestors and their merits. This tendency
found its ideal expression in the fourth century in the painted “banquet of the ances-
tors”, typical of some Early Hellenistic chamber tombs of the nobility. This unites the
deceased of a gens—including also the wives—in the hereafter, sometimes in the pres-
ence of the ruling couple of the underworld. Prominent examples are the wall paint-
ings in the Tomba dell’Orco (Tomb of the Orcus) and the Tomba degli Scudi (Tomb
of the Shields) in Tarquinia, the Golini Tombs I–II and the Hescana Tomb in Orvieto,
4 On the great gentes of the south Etruscan city-states see Morandi Tarabella 2004. On the epigraphic
evidence for the Cilnii see Maggiani 1988.
5 Morandi Tarabella 2004, 625, 636–37 and 627–28, 635. Additional examples there.
6 On southern Etruria generally, see Morandi Tarabella 2004, on Tarquinia also Chiesa 2005. For
Chiusi most recently Benelli 2009.
7 The original is lost; the text is known only from a sixteenth-century copy. Maggiani 1988, 176–77;
Steinbauer 1998; Agostiniani and Giannecchini 2002; Morandi Tarabella 2004, 129–31.
8 Quelling of a bellum servile: Torelli 1975, 41, 80–81. Cf. footnote 38 below.
9 Most recently Bourdin 2007 with a summary of scholarly opinion on the Celtic invasion of 391/387
BCE.

1104 Petra Amann
and the Tomb of the Triclinium in Caere.10 In parallel, beginning in the fourth century,
extensive tomb complexes known as gentilic tombs, with one large room or several
smaller chambers, were developed for receiving numerous interments from one gens.
With varying local manifestations, this type is found throughout Etruria. Some of the
gentes must have been considerably ramified, so that the individual branches of a
family group could have held social positions that differed in detail.
Beginning in the late fourth century, the tomb and especially its facade took
on increased significance as a place for representation to the outer world. Clear
tendencies toward the “heroization” of the tomb’s owner can be recognized in the
Late Etruscan rock-facade tombs, which are strongly oriented to Greek architectural
models (e.g. temple tombs in Norchia and Sovana; aedicula [small shrine] tombs in
Sovana with emphasis on the tomb’s owner banqueting in the hereafter).11 The mate-
rial wealth of the principes, which to a considerable extent relied on the possession of
a large amount of agricultural land, was expressed moreover in a luxurious lifestyle
in lordly manors with extensive staffing. Moralizing ancient Greek authors were quite
disposed to pin on the Etruscans—and on other barbarian peoples with highly hierar-
chical structures as well—the label of tryphé, which was defined by excessive luxury
at the table, exaggerated good living, and decadence. This holds even for the well-
informed Posidonius, whose well-known passage on Late Etruscan society also relies
on other, Etruscan-friendly sources and emphasizes various cultural achievements
of this people (including signs of public authority, the type of the atrium house, and
the adoption of writing) (apud Diod. Sic. 5.40). For the philosopher, the moral decay
of the Late Etruscan upper class brought about by the agricultural surplus served as
a silent warning to Rome.12 That the clothing of the house slaves in attendance corre-
sponded to the high status and the striving for representation of their masters should
not be overinterpreted.
2 The middle and lower classes

Alongside the upper class, the cities housed a broad, heterogeneous middle class with
presumably fluid boundaries to the lower segment of the population, which had basi-
cally no possessions of its own. The regular city plan of the settlements like Musarna
appears to reflect this broad middle class.13 Non-state, privately based client-patron
relationships provided a moderate balance of interests; the smaller tombs, such as
those grouped around the central chamber tomb of the aristocratic gens Anina in Tar-
10 For these see Steingräber 1985.

11 Oleson 1982; Maggiani 1994; Barbieri 2010.
12 Malitz 1983, 87. Whether 5.40.4 should be seen as an interpolation by Diodorus is controversial.
13 See among others Broise and Jolivet 1997.

59 Society, 450–250 BCE 1105
quinia (Fondo Scataglini; late fourth–first century), should probably be interpreted

in this sense.14
Regarding the access of the middle-class population element to permanent forms
of burial, there were regional differences in Etruria. Especially in the inner Etruscan
cities of Perugia and Chiusi, beginning in the third century, their deposition in less
extravagant and increasingly standardized ash urns is strikingly high.15 The numer-
ous inscriptions show that these persons were citizens. This is undoubtedly a sign of
an improvement in the standard of living in broader parts of the population. From the
late third century onwards the general trend toward simpler forms of burial contain-
ers—in contrast with southern Etruria— did not fail to leave its mark among the Chiu-
sian aristocracy as well. Regulating norms of a civil or religious nature are assumed,
but the existence of an aristocracy is not to be doubted.16 Little rural landholdings
appear to have been a possibility for earning one’s living in the inner and northern
parts of the country (Chiusi, Perugia, Cortona, Volterra). Alongside the archaeological
evidence, the Tabula Cortonensis, discovered in 1992 near Cortona, which belongs to
the late third–early second century, is of interest in this regard.17 It seems to be a sort
of evidentiary document for the purchase of estates. A fairly large number of persons
with Etruscan citizenship, but of different social status, are enumerated, among them
probably—although the interpretations of the document differ in detail—smallhold-
ers (and/or free tenants).
Little known are the urban middle classes in the Late Etruscan south. The many
simple chamber tombs found at Tarquinia have, in contrast to the hypogaea (under-
ground tombs) of the nobility, no figural wall paintings, but in the Hellenistic period
sometimes exhibit painted inscriptions.18 Yet altogether, the epigraphic remains of
the middle classes in the south are considerably thinner than in the inner parts of
northern Etruria. Also to be assigned to this segment are the less prestigious fourth-
and third-century tomb complexes in the smaller urban centers in the southern Etrus-
can rock tomb area (e.g. Castel d’Asso).19
14 On the necropolis see most recently Chiesa 2005, 89–187, esp. 254–257. On the Anina tomb:
Steingräber 1985, 67, 282, no. 40.
15 The evidence is especially rich in Hellenistic Chiusi, but even here there are no systematically
excavated necropolises. The number of documented burials increases tenfold with the beginning of
the third century. See Cristofani 1977, 77–78; Berrendonner 2007.
16 See most recently Benelli 2009, 157–58.
17 In general see Cristofani 1986, 151–52. On the Tabula Cortonensis among others Agostiniani and
Nicosia 2000; Pandolfini and Maggiani 2002. Summary of the interpretations in Amann 2005.
18 In all, about 6000 chamber tombs have been excavated by the Fondazione Lerici, of which a not
precisely specifiable, but in any case significant, number belongs to the Late Etruscan period. See
among others Cavagnaro Vanoni 1996, 19–21; Serra Ridgway 1996; Chiesa 2005. About thirty-four
painted tombs belong to the period between the mid fourth century and the second half of the second:
Steingräber 1985, 58.
19 Colonna 1990, 13–14. For Castel d’Asso see Colonna di Paolo and Colonna 1970.

1106 Petra Amann
In the second half of the fourth century, the conflicts with expansion-hungry
Rome increased (according to the tradition Caere appears to have been closely linked
with Rome, as among other evidence the Tomb of the Clavtie/Claudii suggests20). The
final outcome was the permanent subjection of Etruria, at the latest in the second
quarter of the third century. Its city-states became Roman allies with the obligation
to military service.21 Whereas the more distant north did not fall among the direct
territorial interests of Rome and profited economically, in the first half of the third
century the Etruscan south had to put up with extensive territorial annexations. It
was presumably mainly the local nobility that managed to repossess the available
ager publicus for agricultural purposes. The long-term losers in these developments
were more likely the mid-sized and especially small landowners of southern Etruria.
Unfortunately, no basic study of social relationships in the rural and urban area of
southern Etruria between the fourth and second centuries has yet been done.
As for craft production, beginning in the third century there is a noticeably stronger
trend toward mass production (ceramics, votive statues, mirrors, etc.), and, as a result, a
clear increase in larger establishments. In ‘industrial’ cities such as Arretium, which pro-
vided a large amount of weaponry for Scipio’s African campaign of 205 (Livy 28.45.16–
17), beginning in the third century there must have been a fairly high pool of cheap
labor, whether slave or freeborn. Naturally this ‘mass’ production—which was also
exported, but in good measure remained in the land itself—on the other side presup-
poses a corresponding buyers potential, which in turn points to a broad middle class.
The Roman literary tradition wavers between plebs and—more commonly—servi
to describe the lower classes, generally having in mind the existence of a dependency
relationship. The Greek sources, however, only very rarely use the Classical Greek
word for slave, doûlos (as a rule in Greek consciousness referring to a foreigner);
instead they speak of “household servants” (oikétai) and “servants” (therápontes).
The term penéstai is used only once, in Dionysius of Halicarnassus (9.5.4), to describe
the Etruscan troops in the war between Veii and Rome in 480 (cf. chapters 53 Amann,
65 Marcone). Although both older and modern literature relies on this passage
again and again,22 it is not evidence for the existence of a class of half-free persons
in Etruria along the lines of the penéstai of Thessaly or the helots of Messenia.23 As
20 The tomb owners could have been clients or a distant branch of the powerful patrician gens
Claudia in Rome. Most recently Morandi Tarabella 2004, 132–35.
21 On the character of these foedera see the still fundamental Harris 1971, 85–113.
22 See among others Heurgon 1959; Harris 1971, 121–23; Cristofani 1986, 145–46; Torelli 1995, 104–5.
Most recently Mastrocinque 1996, 252, who takes them to be slaves in the possession of the state (“servi
pubblici”) from the native population. Massa-Pairault 2000, 262–63. Mostly the right of “slaves” to
hold private property is emphasized as an Etruscan peculiarity.
23 These represent autochthonous population groups defeated by conquerors (with varying
legal positions), whereas especially Dionysius of Halicarnassus (1.30.2) vehemently supported the
autochthony of the Etruscans as a whole.

59 Society, 450–250 BCE 1107
Enrico Benelli rightly insists, in this context it was merely a designation for a group of
persons dependent on the ruling upper class, without reference to their concrete legal
status.24 It is reasonable to recognize client relationships that cannot be more closely
described, but must have been normal in the ancient world. The parallel version in
Livy is marked by the Roman Conflict of the Orders, whose excesses would have been
used as an advantage in the war by the Etruscan principes (cf. 2.44.7–12). Livy (9.36.12)
knows of emergency troops among the rural population, who were promptly invoked
by the noble lords in 310 in order to face the Roman army that had surprisingly
invaded the country. This appears to be a sort of rural Etruscan plebs. In this context,
there has been much discussion about the meaning of the term etera (or lautn eteri),
epigraphically attested several times in the Late Etruscan period, which appears in
connection with personal names (usually with praenomen and nomen gentile).25 It
is neither the Etruscan designation for the slave or the “half free” nor, probably, for
the client.26 There were (state or religious?) offices like the zilath eterau and zileteraia
(Tarquinia, Musarna, Vulci, Orvieto) and the camθi eterau (Tarquinia), whose holders
came from the upper class. Since in some cases the holder of the title is quite young, it
has been thought that the office of the zilath eterau meant some sort of youth organi-
zation under a—likewise youthful—praetor iuventutis.27 But this interpretation too is
problematic; hence Benelli’s latest proposal to understand the term not in relation to
the person, but to the tomb or the burial, constitutes an interesting alternative.28 What
remains certain is that the word can in no way be cited as evidence for the existence
of Etruscan “half-free” persons.
In any case, the steadily increasing groups of slaves included foreigners, who
(through abduction, war, etc.) were deprived of their human rights or held the status
of a slave from birth. This last possibility must have drastically increased in the Hel-
lenistic period. Whether debt slavery was lessened for Etruscans, or—as in Rome—
might have been abolished for full citizens, is just as unknown as the Etruscan term
for “unfree” (respectively the enslaved person). The name formula consisted of the
individual name of the slave, to which the owner’s nomen gentile was added in the
24 Benelli 1996, 340. In this sense also Cristofani 1995, 83. Cf. Dion. Hal. 2.9.2 for the introduction of
the patronage system by Romulus: The Thessalians would have called their pelátai by the pejorative
term penéstai.
25 Examples collected by E. Benelli, in ThLE I², 2009, 119.
26 As already excluded by Rix 1963, 371 footnote 165. But see also Torelli 1987, 90–91: “classe dei servi”;
Mastrocinque 1996, 255–59; Massa-Pairault 2000, 264–65: „clientes“; Facchetti 2002: “semiliberi
dotati di una (seppur limitata) capacità giuridica,” “plebeo, cliente, vassallo.”
27 See already Olzschka 1968, 222; Rix 1977, 65–66; Maggiani 1996, 117–23, esp. 119–20: “membro della
iuventus.” Camθi might correspond to Latin camillus in the sense of “(highborn young) cult servant.”
28 Benelli 2003, 220. The construction lautn eteri known from Perugia and Chiusi remains difficult
to explain.

1108 Petra Amann
genitive.29 Naturally, names of slaves are rarely documented, and moreover the ambiv-
alent formula often leads to hermeneutic uncertainties. Interesting name material in
this regard can be found in the few Late Etruscan chamber tombs nearby Orvieto,
which accommodate the members of a small oligarchic circle. Of note, for example,
is the petinate hescanas in the Tomb of the Hescana in Porano (ET² Vs 7.38); of special
interest, however, is the problematic Golini Tomb I near Settecamini. This tomb of the
Leinie gens shows the banqueting nobility (with long inscriptions) in the presence of
the ruling couple of the Underworld and the activities of the servants in the kitchen
physically separated from the banquet of the nobles by a partition.30 The short labels
on the servant figures are morphologically heterogeneous; alongside appellatives
that less resemble personal names than a description of individual duties (e.g. tesinθ
tamiaθuras, ET² Vs 7.9) are found binomial names that are hard to interpret in view
of the concrete social status of their bearers—runχlvis papnas and θresu penznas, for
example, could be slaves (who belonged to other families?).31 In theory, the hiring of
a “catering staff” with both free and non-free workers for upper-class banquets (as
known from the comedies) is also a possibility.
The fate and living conditions of slaves depended, as elsewhere, on their use.
Hard physical labor was performed by work-slaves in the fields of large landowners,
in the factories, mines, and generally in the area of metalworking (Accesa, Populo-
nia). Among house slaves there were certainly grades. Valuable slaves, their lack of
freedom aside, were accustomed to a higher lifestyle than that of the Etruscan prole-
tariat and belonged among the equipment of lordly representation (as shown by the
servant figures in the tomb paintings). Unprovable, but quite likely, is the peculium of
slaves known from Rome.
The existence of some sort of setting free (manumission) is certain, although
its procedures and legal extent remain in the dark. The outcome was that the lautni
(m.)/lautnitha (f.) achieved his/her personal freedom but definitely remained closely
bound to the patron (hence lautni = “the one who belongs to the family”).32 Full equal-
ity and political integration into the state—which in the name formula is made clear
by a praenomen and a nomen gentile of their own—was as a rule achieved only by
their descendants, whose nomen gentile was formed from the individual name of the
(freed) father. Yet the quite numerous lautni inscriptions—which with a few excep-
tions (including one from the Late Archaic period) mostly come from Late Etruscan
29 Rix 1963, 372.

30 Steingräber 1985, 278, no. 32. Most recently Massa-Pairault 2000, 263.
31 ET² Vs 7.11–12. Rix 1963, 274; de Simone 1968–1970, II, 96, 143. The individual names that seem to be
typical for slaves are seen as decisive. Most recently Morandi Tarabella 2004, 350, 363–64.
32 Rix’s (1994, 111–16) proposal to see lautni(tha) not as “the one who belongs to the family/gens”, but
as “who belongs to the community of the free (= the people)” does not seem to me convincing, since
the lautni was free in regard to his own person, but as a rule had no political rights.

59 Society, 450–250 BCE 1109
northern and inner Etruria—exhibit a certain degree of fluctuation in the formula.33

Alongside Etruscan names, many foreign individual names are found that indicate
the origin of the erstwhile slaves. Greek names are especially common (e.g. Clepatra/
Kleopatra, Apluni/Apollonios, Atunes/Adonis, Tiphile/Diphilos),34 but Italic and
occasionally Celtic names (such as Mucetis/Mogetios) are also found.
As a rule the lautni did not have civil rights (and so politically was not directly
useful to his former master), but economically he was in a position to fend for
himself. A few examples of votive gifts from freed persons are known from inscrip-
tions (e.g. in Vulci).35 His (freeborn) descendants did not bear the nomen gentile of the
former owner. Freedwomen could marry outside the manumitting gens, in fact either
freedmen or freeborn.36 The Roman system, which generally allowed freed persons
(= liberti) limited civil rights, differed clearly on some points, although it too knew dif-
ferent kinds of manumission and in theory discriminated against the libertus. These
differences could thus have led to misunderstandings among the ancient authors.
3 Social unrest
Beginning in the fourth century, severe social unrest in some Etruscan city-states is
documented, namely in the inner and northern parts of the country. In general, the
oligarchic upper class seems to have been quite unwilling to share political and eco-
nomic power. The ancient tradition, however, scarcely makes it possible to precisely
define the social groups that acted against the ruling nobility: urban plebs, freed-
men according to Etruscan law, or true slaves. This problem interferes considerably
with the analysis of the real causes of the revolts. Were they prefigured as inherent to
the system, or were they prompted by especially harsh special circumstances in each
individual case?
According to Livy, the unrest in Arretium in 302 was a rebellion of the plebs
against the omnipotent gens Cilnia.37 As regards the Roman intervention, which led to
33 About 150 examples, collected in Rix 1963, 356–72, and 1994, 100–106; ThLE I², 2005, 237–38. Rix
interprets the differences in the formulas historically (before or after 90 bce), but there also might
have been different forms of manumission. On the Late Archaic inscription from the Campo della
Fiera sanctuary nearby Orvieto (ET² Vs 3.12) see chapter 53 Amann.
34 See also de Simone 1968–1970, II, 259–68. It’s of course possible that especially Greek names were
“in vogue” for slaves.
35 REE 56, 1991, 364–66, no. 82 (E. Benelli). On dedications from the lower classes: Maras 2009,
210–11.
36 E.g. ET² Vs 3.12; Cl 1.1179; Cl 1.1459; Cl 1.1565; Cl 1.768; Cl 1.777. Rix 1994, 99.
37 Livy 10.3.2 speaks only of unrest, 10.5.13 defines it more clearly: Cilnio genere cum plebe in gratiam
reducto. Cf. also the cetera multitudo in contrast to the 470 ditissimi in the case of the Etruscan city of
Troilum (Livy 10.46.10–12: 293 BCE).

1110 Petra Amann
reconciliation, he had different sources available. Social tensions also appear in the
Elogia Tarquiniensia of the Spurinna gens, engraved in the Claudian period, which
speaks of a suppression of a bellum servile in Arretium that is not precisely datable.38
Even more unclear and interpreted by modern research in the most varied ways
is the bloody revolt of 265–264 in Volsinii veteres, which left a lasting impression, not
least because it resulted in the destruction of Orvieto by Rome (aside from the detailed
account of Zonar. 8.7, see Val. Max. 9.1, ext. 2; Flor. 1.16; Oros. 4.5.3–5; De vir. ill. 36;
John of Antioch, FHG IV.557 fr. 50.).39 Blended with the motif of tryphé, the accounts
of the ancient authors seem to repeat the stages of the Roman Conflict of the Orders
in a very accelerated way. The question of who the real actors were remains open.
The vehemence of the events, however, shows that the oligarchic upper class must
have completely lost control of the city at some point. Unfortunately, the prehistory
of the events is also unknown to us. (Had the number of domini been thinned out in
the struggle against Rome? How did the flagging of economic power affect the lower
classes?)
The first true and unequivocally recognizable slave revolt took place in Etruria in
197/196 (Livy 33.36.1–31; see chapters 65 Marcone and 68 de Angelis).
4 On the presence of foreigners in Etruria

Whereas the coastal cities in the Po delta like Spina and Adria clearly had a Greek
component in their population before the invasion of the Celts, the number of Greeks
living in the southern Etruscan urban areas as merchants and craftsmen decreased
sharply during the second half of the fifth century. With regard to the presence of for-
eigners, however, port cities lying farther north remained interesting, such as Popu-
lonia, with its flourishing metal industry,40 which even in the Late Etruscan period
attracted foreign laborers, craftsmen, and merchants. Thus a Neo-Punic vase inscrip-
tion of the third century has recently been recovered in the dromos of chamber tomb
4 of the Le Grotte necropolis;41 if there is, in fact, a direct connection between the
occupancy of the tomb and the inscription, the presence of a socially and economi-
cally well integrated Phoenician-Punic metic in Populonia could be assured.
38 Interpreted as two different events by Torelli 1975, 80–81; Maggiani 1988, 187. Contra Steinbauer
1998, 273–76.
39 See among others Harris 1971, 115–17; Torelli 1987, 91–92; Benelli 1996, 342–43. On the revolt of
“Oinaréa” (Mir. ausc. 94) see Harris 1971, 118.
40 On the industrial quarters, see most recently Bonamici 2007.
41 Romualdi and Amadasi 2007. The burial chamber itself had been completely looted.

59 Society, 450–250 BCE 1111
Alongside these personally free individuals, of course the slave trade brought to
Etruria an increase in foreigners, often originating in the eastern Mediterranean, who
on occasion achieved at least partial social integration as freedmen (see above).
Additionally, the onomastic material of Hellenistic Etruria includes a fairly large
group of names that are of Italic—often Sabellic—origin or are ethnika on such a basis,
particularly in the inner Etrurian areas (Volsinii, Chiusi, Perugia).42 The integration of
Italics—in legally quite different ways—must be recognized since the earliest period.
It appears in the Late Etruscan period, though, to have reached a new dimension, to
some extent, especially in Perugia. From the start, that settlement had had the func-
tion of a bridgehead toward Umbria, and from the fourth century on it expanded con-
siderably into these areas. Here the usually so-called “Vornamengentilizia” (= gentile
names formed on the basis of a praenomen) are well documented. According to Enrico
Benelli, these names were actually for the most part not formed on (Italic) praeno-
mina, but on true (Italic) gentilicia.43 This could mean that freeborn Italics (in this case
Umbrians) were taken in during the course of territorial incorporation into the polity
of Perugia, although complete legal equality must not be assumed.
5 Women’s lifestyle and Hellenistic liberalization

tendencies
Despite the general background of basic inequality of the sexes and traditional gender
roles (cf. chapters 12 Amann and 53 Amann), in the Late Etruscan period, self-aware,
proud Etruscan women take the stage. For example, we have Ramtha Visnai from
Vulci, whose splendid mid-fourth-century sarcophagus depicts her together with her
husband Arnth Tetnie. Larthi Cilnei, from Arretium, died highly honored in her new
home, Tarquinia, at the age of 83. Seianti Hanunia Tlesnasa, whose well-preserved
skeleton provides information about the living conditions of this matron of the Chi-
usinian aristocracy of the late third−early second century.44 All three were honored
members of the nobility and in this framework had representative duties to carry out.
As brides they constituted an important means of alliance between the significant
families of the land.
42 Meiser 2009, 147–50. The suggestions by Rix 1963, 372–78, and 1977, 67, regarding the enrollment
of formerly discriminated Italics (called penéstai) in the citizenry of Chiusi in the Hellenistic period
were based on incorrect archaeological assumptions and should be disregarded; see the criticism in
Benelli 2011.
43 Benelli 2002. On the territorial expansion of Perugia see Amann 2011, 150–58.
44 For these women, see Haynes 2000, 287–89, 336–39; Swaddling and Prag 2002. For Larthi Cilnei
see footnote 7 above.

1112 Petra Amann
A passage by Theopompus of Chios from the second half of the fourth century
(apud Athen. 12.517d–518b) is often—wrongly—cited for information about the
freedom of Etruscan women. It reveals information about Greek self-definition, but
it is not helpful for the evaluation of Etruscan social structures. In no way did the
Greek have in mind a precise description of Etruscan customs, of which he had only
the vaguest knowledge; rather it was his intention to define the Etruscans as barbar-
ians of the West. To that end he invented a social organization the exact opposite
of the Greek way of life, in which monogamic, marriage-like relations between the
sexes were unknown, as were the fathers of all children, this being “customs of the
land.”45 It is significant that Roman or Rome-influenced Greek writers never mention
an extraordinary position for Etruscan women.
At the same time, the tendencies toward social liberalization typical of the Hel-
lenistic period brought to Etruria a weakening of the rigid Archaic family structures
and probably created greater freedom for women. Thus second-century inscriptions
exhibit a clear increase in the custom of interring married women in the burial site of
their family of origin, especially in northern Etruria. This probably reflects a change
in matrimonial law, which now also knew forms of marriage with less legally-binding
entry into the husband’s family (behind which, as in Rome, could lie requirements
of inheritance law).46 The role of the mother was generally respected, with the motif
of mother and child a favored theme of Hellenistic tomb sculpture (e.g. the so-called
kourotrophos Maffei from Volterra).47 Also, Late Etruscan tomb inscriptions sometimes
give the number of children who were born or fathered, which usually amounted to
fewer than five (thus not particularly high). The small single-chamber tomb of the
Spitu, a family of the upper middle class in Tarquinia (ET² Ta 1.164–68), is informative
in this regard.48
Beginning in the fourth century, women are somewhat better attested epigraphi-
cally in the votive area as well;49 dedications were made in the interest of the family,
and perhaps even of the public (the sex of the dedicator of the two well-known bronze
statuettes from the Porta Bifora of Cortona, which took on a protective function for
the city, is unfortunately controversial).50 There remains, of course, the problem of
45 On the passage, see Amann 1999.

46 Probably similar to the form of marriage sine manu in Late Republican Rome, as convincingly
argued in Nielsen 1989, 85.
47 Haynes 2000, 357; ET² Vt 3.3. Emphasis on the deceased as mother is already found on the large
figural cinerary urns from Chiusi and territory, which were used by the aristocratic upper class
beginning in the second quarter of the fifth century: Cristofani 1975, 39, no. 7 (so-called “Mater
Matuta” from Chianciano).
48 Steingräber 1985, 344, no. 111; Chiesa 2005, 257-258: second half of the third century.
49 See the compilation in Maras 2009, 209–10.
50 ET² Co 3.3–4. Completion as either v(elia) (so recently Maras 2009, 256–258), or v(el) cvinti (so
Benelli 2007, 220) is possible.

59 Society, 450–250 BCE 1113
their active engagement in (public) cult practices outside the home. Aside from the
oft-cited but lexically unclear appellative hatrencu in Vulci, we have only a few possi-
ble indications of priestesses.51 The “Tomb of the Mothers and Daughters” in Perugia,
whose inscriptions name only women related in a direct line, is an interesting case.52
Whether it is more than the inevitable reaction to the epigraphically attested custom
in Perugia of burying only men of one gens in a family tomb must for the time being
remain an open question.
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60 Ritual and cults, 450–250 BCE
Abstract: A novelty of the Classical and Hellenistic periods is that a greater number of anatomical
votive offerings were found in sanctuaries than before. This chapter endeavors to understand the
meaning of that change by examining their medical, political and religious significance. It also exam-
ines the implication of the change in how the Etruscans related to death.
Keywords: Body, votive offerings, sanctuaries, health, fertility
Introduction
In the Classic and Hellenistic periods, there was a change in the forms of worship in
comparison with the Archaic period, with new gods that were introduced. Offerings
were dedicated to them, often in great number and in the image of human body parts.
The richness of these deposits has been systematically studied since the mid 1970s.1
These studies have allowed searchers to unveil the existence of worshippers who were
often invisible in the Archaic period, a period when luxury and precious temple orna-
ments suggest that the donors of offerings were probably cities, communities, dynasts
or tyrants.2
1 Medical significance of offerings

The offerings of Etruria’s Classic and Hellenistic sanctuaries offer an overwhelming
proportion of anatomical representations featuring limbs. From their presence, the
healing character of the sanctuaries where the offerings were set down has long been
deduced; in particular, the shape and quantity of these objects have given us informa-
tion about the diseases from which the ancients suffered. The problem is that healing
sanctuaries do not necessarily contain anatomical ex-votos and do not necessarily
show that the disease was cured. For example, ex-votos in the shape of ears indicated
that in some cases the dedicator sought the “ear”—the benevolent attention—of the
deity. In addition, many offerings were terra-cotta votive offerings made from a mold,
and therefore intended to meet the demand of the faithful suffering from various ill-
nesses. Besides, the baking of clay could cause distortions in form of protuberances,
1 Comella 1981; 2004; Edlund-Berry 2004.

2 MacIntosh Turfa 1986; 1994; 2004; Edlund-Berry 1987; Comella and Mele 2005; MacIntosh Turfa
2006.
the material also wore out with time, the limestone was damaged, the terra-cotta
broke, or coatings lost their original color. We should therefore wonder more about
what this abundance of fragmented bodies and the massive presence of certain body
parts—and not others—reveal.
1.1 Representations of human heads
Heads are the most ancient and numerous anatomical representations set down in the
shrines of Etruria. The first heads date from the Late Archaic period and are attested
in Falerii and Veii. According to some scholars, the heads are thought to represent
the goddess worshipped in the sanctuary and were made on the model of masks and
busts for Demeter and Kore in Sicily and Magna Graecia. According to others, to make
votive heads, the Veian terra-cotta artists would have used prototypes intended for
antefixes. Some votive heads, however, are covered or half-covered by a veil, which is
mostly the prerogative of pious men. The appearance of terra-cotta heads in sanctuar-
ies could thus mark a significant break in the history of worship in the sanctuaries
of Tyrrhenian Etruria. Worshippers offered the gods a representation of themselves,
rather than one of the gods they honored.
1.2 Representations of penises and uteri
After heads, internal and external genitalia were most often represented. The concern
for worshippers to give birth to descendants naturally explains the profusion of votive
offerings of this type, but some uteri have abnormal characters, such as appendages,
small fibroids, or small ribs. It is not certain whether to consider these pathological
pieces, because this type of interpretation is based on contemporary gynecological
knowledge, and not on the anatomical knowledge of the Etruscans.
The only medical treatises or statements dealing with gynecology that could be
used for medical practice in Etruria—the Hippocratic treatises—were written in Greek
and therefore could be known only to a very limited elite. The first physician known
in Rome, by comparison, is a Peloponnesian called Archagathos who came to Rome
in 219 BCE, and the dissection of human bodies was not performed until the third
century BCE at the medical school in Alexandria.
In addition, not all anatomical offerings should be explained in terms of the body
part they represent, because anatomical offerings were also conceived of as repre-
senting the whole body. Aelius Aristides (Orat. 48.27.472) writes that to divert death,
the god Asclepius advised him to “cut off some part of my body for the sake of the
well-being of the whole. But since it was difficult, he remitted it for me. Instead of this,
he ordered me to remove the ring which I wore and to dedicate it to Telesphorus—for

this had the same effect, as if I should give up my finger—and to inscribe on the band
of the ring, ‘Son of Cronus.’ And if I did this, I would be saved.”3
2 Political significance
An explanation offered for the sudden spread and immediate success of the prac-
tice of anatomical ex-votos is that the increasing distribution of terra-cotta offer-
ings would be the result of the simultaneous conquest of central Italy by Rome. The
custom of making terra-cotta offerings would have spread from Rome to the subju-
gated territories, where the new nobilitas stemming from the leges Liciniae Sextiae
would have imitated Greek forms of self-representation and terra-cotta limbs would
have recorded the material stages of Roman expansion and the installation of Roman
colonists in central Italy, from the conquest of Veii in 396 until the First Punic War.4
One of the consequences of this was that worshippers in the shrines were repre-
sented as givers or deeply religious people performing acts of Roman piety in Roman
garb.
2.1 The veil of piety
The presence of a veil on votive heads would indicate a Roman influence, not to say
a “religious Romanization.” Roman rites were distinguished from Greek rites by the
fact that the Roman sacrificer officiated with his head covered, while the Greek sac-
rificer was bareheaded. However, we should hesitate to attribute all the veiled votive
heads to one of the consequences of the Roman conquest. The phenomenon of veiled
heads made a late appearance in Rome, either in the late fourth or the third century.
Moreover, Roman influence cannot explain why the most ancient heads, veiled or
not, are overwhelmingly female. Another type of foreign influence should therefore
be considered, either Campanian or Magna Graecian.5 Indeed, in the Greek world, the
veil is associated with marriage, especially for the worshippers of infernal gods, and
veiling one’s head is also required in Greek mysteries. It was not until the very last
years of the fourth century that Etruria’s votive heads displayed a veil closely associ-
ated with Roman piety.
In Rome and Latium this spread occurred at the same time on male heads as well.
It was not characteristic of the worship or of a specific god.
3 Translation by Behr 1981.

4 Torelli 1973a; 1973b; de Cazanove 2000; contra, Glinister 2006a; 2006b.
5 Glinister 2009.

In the Etruscan area, veiled heads are to be found in large quantities, but in very
different proportions in different shrines. From the late fourth and the third century,
the geographic areas where votive heads were veiled encompassed almost exactly
those of the ager Romanus. In Veii, the first male votive heads—that is, heads which
are not likely to be related to a female chthonic cult—are attested once the city was
incorporated into the ager Romanus, after the defeat of 396. In Lucus Feroniae, where
veiled votive heads were found in the third century, there occurred, according to Livy,
so disturbing a portent in the year 210, that the pontiffs called for a supplicatio in
Rome: thus Lucus Feroniae was considered a part of Roman territory. At Tessennano,
where the territory has been divided into parcels of twenty actus reserved for settlers,
over 60% of adult heads were veiled.6
2.2 The citizen’s toga
Toga-clad figurines in the votive deposits representing worshippers in Hellenistic

Etruscan shrines signal a clear break with the customs of self-representation. Indeed,
both male and female Etruscans during the independence period wore either a round
mantle revealing a shoulder, called tebenna or the Greek mantle, called himation. The
Romans wore the toga when they wanted to show that they belonged to the Roman
city—especially in the Forum in Rome. In the minds of those who wore them, togas
showed more a sense of commitment to citizenship and its functions than the actual
possession of that right. In Etruria, togas were therefore perhaps not only worn by
settlers but also by those Etruscans who were anxious to identify themselves with the
Romans—even before being granted Roman citizenship. There are a few examples of
togas being worn at Veii, in the sanctuary of Campetti; at Tarquinia, in the sanctuary
of the Ara della Regina; at Punta della Vipera, at Bolsena’ in the sanctuary of Pozza-
rello, at Fontanile di Legnisina. We can add to these examples the late second century
statue of the Arringatore in a toga, preserved at Florence, which is believed to have
come from one of the Etruscan shrines.7
2.3 The bulla
Another sign of the Roman influence on Etruscan religious practices is the reuse of
the bulla, a locket containing an amulet, in many representations of children from the
fourth century onward.8 In independent Etruria, adults as well as male and female
6 Söderlind 2002.
7 Colonna 1991.
8 Haack 2007b.

children wore several bullae displayed by way of lockets, bracelets or necklaces,

sometimes combined with other jewelery. The bulla disappeared from the representa-
tions of Etruscan adults and children from the late fourth century only to reappear
in the second century solely in representations of children, thus repeating a Roman
custom. Indeed, the Romans adorned the chests of young boys who were born free
with bullae. When such a boy hit puberty, he would take the bulla off, along with
the praetexta toga, and dedicate it to the tutelary deities of the home on the occasion
of the Liberalia. The Romans themselves said they had borrowed the bulla from the
Etruscans.
By providing statues and figurines of children with a bulla, worshippers in Hel-
lenistic Etruscan sanctuaries resumed an Etruscan custom, apparently without seeing
it as a form of reappropriation of an Etruscan cultural heritage.
Bullae are indeed visible on terra-cotta offerings in sanctuaries where prevailing
religious customs were, at least partially, those of the Roman conquerors.9
3 Religious significance
The appearance of these clothing markers has long been ascribed to the worship of
Asclepius.10 The most striking argument is the similarity between Greek offerings to
Asclepius and Etruscan anatomical offerings: the limbs show no trace of diseases and
are usually made of terra-cotta.
In Corinth, for example, offerings dating from the last quarter of the fifth century
to the last quarter of the fourth are sometimes made of terra-cotta and painted red
when they represent limbs of male bodies, and white when female.11
The similarities between Greek and Etruscan ex-votos have been explained by
an identical worship of Asclepius. There are indeed Etruscan artifacts mentioning or
representing Asclepius. A vase dedicated to Asclepius found near Chiusi dates to the
time before the spread of anatomical offerings in Etruria, the late sixth or early fifth,
or the fourth century12—in any case before the foundation of a temple dedicated to
Asclepius in Rome. The theonym Aisclapi is indeed close to the forms Aisklapios and
Aisklapieus found on the inscriptions of Epidauros, which at the latest, date to the
early fifth century. In Bologna, near the courthouse in a suburban location, a figurine
of a worshipper bringing an offering (third quarter of the fifth century) has a dedica-
tion to Asclepius in Greek.13 After the foundation of the temple of Asclepius in Rome,
9 Haack 2007b.
10 Lesk 2002.
11 Van Straten 1981, 129–132.
12 CIL I 440 = CIL XI 6708.2 = ILLRP 40.
13 Miari 2000, 170–71 n. 1.

the cult of Asclepius is thought to have continued in Etruria until the imperial era. An
Etruscan mirror from Bolsena dating from the third or early second century names the
god Esplace which also has its origin in the Dorian form Aisklapios.14 Two tablets from
Tessennano depicting viscera have a collapsed trachea ending in the head of a snake,
the symbol of Asclepius.15
How was the cult of Asclepius introduced? Two ways have been proposed: either
through the mediation of Rome, where the god was imported by Q. Ogulnius in 292,
or through the mediation of Southern Italy, where the cult of Asclepius might have
been first imported. This last hypothesis is attractive because in Sicily, Agrigento had
a small Doric temple dedicated to Asclepius as early as in the late fifth century, and
in Southern Italy, Taranto received Asclepius as early as in the middle of the fourth
century and housed votive terra-cotta phalluses.
As for the idea of importation by Rome, it is based on the story of a Roman
embassy of ten men in Epidaurus bringing to Italy the god Asclepius in the form of a
snake. He would have first been worshipped on the Tiber Island before the building
of a shrine dedicated to him at Fregelles in the second quarter of the second century.
Requests for healing might have been addressed mostly to Apollo.16 Indeed many
Hellenistic Etrurian sanctuaries contain figurines of a type of Apollo musician similar
to Apollo Maleatas at Epidaurus: he is sitting or standing, naked or semi-naked,
holding a lyre in his left hand and a coat or a plectrum in his right hand. The represen-
tation of Apollo with the lyre might have indicated the healthy character of the god:
as the bow sent diseases and epidemics, the lyre provided care and healing. Apollo
was in compliance with the oracle that he himself had made for Telephus about Achil-
les: “who wounds, heals.” In the wake of an epidemic, the official introduction of
the cult of Apollo Medicus in Rome in 433 may have played a role in the evolution
of the medical cult of the god Apollo in Etruria. A temple was then consecrated to
the god and first dedicated by the consul Gnaeus Iulius in 431, and again after res-
toration in 353, and then used as starting point for solemn processions, between 207
and 200, towards the temple of Juno Regina on the Aventine, before being restored in
179. The worshippers of Apollo Medicus seem to have adopted the custom of offering
anatomical terra-cotta votive limbs in the temple of the god. A whole string of ana-
tomical offerings were found near the Ponte Garibaldi and the Ponte Quattro Capi;
downstream, others found near the Ponte Cestio, Ponte Rotto and Ponte Palatino may
come from the temple of Apollo Medicus which was nearby; and recently, ex-votos
have been discovered in the southwest corner of the temple of Bellona, adjacent to
that of Apollo Medicus.17
14 Krauskopf 1988, no. 1.

15 Costantini 1995, E III 12
16 Haack 2007a.
17 Pensabene et al. 1980.

Yet it is not certain that the success of the musician medicus Apollo in Etruria
should be explained by the Roman conquest of Etruria and the sending of Roman
settlers into the vanquished territories. Indeed the cult of Apollo Medicus in Etruria
seems to be at least as old as that of the god Asclepius in Rome.
At Villa Cassarini in Bologna (a single site), a naked statue of Apollo with a lyre,
two bronze legs, and a bronze foot, all dated from the fifth century, were found.
Menerva is another popular deity who was charged with the education of young
people in the Hellenistic period. On a whole series of mirrors in the fourth century,
the goddess is shown with children, Tages, Epiur or Maris. There, Menerva is either a
midwife, taking children by the arm, helping them out of vases placed on the ground
as if out of the womb, or a maternal and educative deity, receiving children from the
hands of Hercle, who holds them firmly. The function of midwife may be evidenced
in the sanctuary of Punta della Vipera where anatomical offerings are indeed numer-
ous. Among the 131 anatomical offerings, thirty-one are reproductions of a phallus,
and twenty-one are reproductions of a uterus. Menerva may have played the role of
educator and protector of small children in Punta della Vipera too, since a figurine of
a woman with a child and three fragments of swaddled infants have been discovered.
The goddess Vei might have specialized in fertility problems, since two terra-cotta
uteruses, found in an area of Gravisca where terra-cotta uteruses abound, bear her
name. It is even possible that the cult of Demeter ultimately superimposed itself on
that of Vei. The sanctuary of Gravisca, for example, combines evidence of the worship
of Demeter and of Vei near room G. There were found statues of female couples fea-
turing Demeter and Kore, female masks of the fifth century resembling those found
in the sanctuaries of Demeter and the other chthonic deities in Southern Italy and in
Sicily, and a round altar of Thesmophoria on the west. Outside of room G, i.e. in the
X area very close to it, were found terra-cotta uteruses, a dedication in Greek to the
goddess dating from the fifth or sixth century, and two dedications to Vei dating from
the first half of the fifth century.
In the fourth century, Uni also became a maternal deity, protector of births and
young children. In the sanctuary of Gravisca, a bronze bowl with the name of Uni was
discovered in room M. It contained 145 uterus-shaped votive offerings, or almost half
the uteruses found in the sanctuary. It also contained twenty-two offerings of swad-
dled infants—more than 91% of the offerings of this type found in the sanctuary—and
ten figurines of draped women. In the sanctuary of Fontanile Legnisina near Vulci,
in a crevice of the cave adjacent to the altar, a figurine was discovered of a tunic-clad
worshipper making an offering, dating from the first of the third century. There is a
dedication to Uni on the leg. The worship of Uni was probably related, here too, to the
sphere of reproduction, as numerous sexual offerings were found nearby, namely 234
terra-cotta uteruses and a dozen small phallic cippi. The cult also had to do with the
health of young children, as eleven figurines of swaddled infants and thirteen votive
terra-cotta breasts have been found on the site. At Pyrgi, where one of the two temples
was dedicated to Uni, who is sometimes presented in Greek sources sometimes as

Eileithyia, and sometimes as Leucothea, many votive objects may relate to the sphere
of fertility and the cult of Uni. Thus, in the area in front of temple A, around seventy
fragments of statues, including three swaddled infants, around 174 fragments of
heads, and hundreds of anatomical gifts were unearthed. In the area facing temple B,
a fragment of a statue, a head, three figurines and twenty-three fragments of lower
limbs were found. Finally, in the area between the two temples, a fragment of a statue
of a worshipper making an offering, three fragments of heads, an upper limb, and six
lower limbs were discovered.
The salutary action of some gods has been explained by the healing effect of
waters that were placed under the protection of the same gods.18 The problem with
this explanation lies in the lack of literary or epigraphic sources and of figurative rep-
resentations clearly showing scenes of healing brought about by the waters’ actions.
On the other hand, it is absolutely certain that some waters were worshipped because
they were considered the property of the gods. Not all waters possessed this divine
value. Sea water was not worshipped in the big coastal sanctuaries like Gravisca and
Pyrgi, but drinking water was worshipped19 given the number of votive objects set
down into sources of potable water nearby. These include lakes like the Lago degli
Idoli on Monte Falterona, where, among more than 600 votive donations that were set
down, a statuette of Heracles was found.20 They also include spring waters around
which sanctuaries were sometimes erected, like the sanctuary-spring of Marzabotto,
where two anatomical ex-votos of the fifth century were discovered;21 and the spring
waters near which votive offerings were set down, as in Vicarello, where a collection
of objects from the eighth to the fourth centuries was unearthed.22 Sometimes, the
water was kept in basins or cisterns as in Falerii Veteres, in the sanctuary of Vignale,
which housed about 100 anatomical ex-votos, including a dedication to Apollo of the
late fourth or early third century discovered near the cistern. Drinking water seems to
have lost its religious character at the end of the Hellenistic period. In Sasso Pisano
near Larderello, where the water had hitherto fulfilled religious purposes, an edifice
was built in the second half of the second century to use hot and cold springs as a
cure.23 In Musarna near Viterbo, in the late second century, a temple was turned into
a small spa.24
18 Gasperini 1988; Prayon 1993; Zinelli 2003; Gasperini 2006; Haack 2007a.
19 Maggiani 1999; Chellini 2002.
20 Fortuna and Giovannoni 1975.
21 Colonna 1985, 114, 5.4.B.6–7.
22 Colini 1979.
23 Broise and Jolivet 1991, 89.
24 Broise and Jolivet 2004, 34–35.

4 The Etruscans and death

The fact that the Etruscans were concerned with entrusting the care of a sound body
to the gods had as a consequence a new concept of death and of life in the beyond.25
Thus, in the Hellenistic period, what is beyond the grave seems to gain in importance
as never before. The tombs, stelae, and sarcophagi display an increasing number of
representations of what lies beyond the grave. Death is seen as a voyage—frequently
by land—to the beyond, where the deceased are shown feasting. In Volsinii-Orvieto,
on the frescoes of the Golini I Tomb, the deceased, comfortably dressed as if for a
long and perilous journey, arrives on a chariot and is welcomed by feasters who were
no doubt recognized as members of his clan who predeceased him, since Hades and
Persephone are present. The journey to the beyond is also done by sea or by river. In
Tarquinia, on the wall of the Tomba dei Demoni Azzuri (Tomb of the Blue Demons) in
the Calvario necropolis, dating from the late fifth century, a benevolent demon guides
the deceased woman to the bank of a river that Charun is to help her cross, while on
another wall, four couples lying on four klinai take part in a banquet. In Tarquinia,
in the Tomba dell’Orco I (Tomb of the Orcus I), a demon attends the banquet; and in
the Tomba degli Scudi (Tomb of the Shields), couples of the same family (gens) feast
very close to a demon holding a hammer in each hand. Demons are present in scenes
that are not funerary at first sight. In the famous fresco of the fourth century François
Tomb in Vulci, which show the massacre of Trojan prisoners, the infernal demons
Charun and Vanth appear. The latter, often represented with wings and an inscribed
roll, seems to announce the fate awaiting the deceased; more often than not she is
not alone but in the company of several female spirits, winged or not, who lead the
deceased.
New forms of worship of the dead also appear. In the Vulci, San Giuliano and
Chiusi necropolises, small shrines are built whose upper parts are decorated with
terra-cotta. This evolution results in a transformation of the tomb shape: in the Caere,
Stigliano, Blera, Grotta Porcina and Bomarzo-area necropolises, in the late second
and first centuries BCE, tombs in the shape of temples or altars were built; these
tombs replaced the cube tombs of the previous period. The large aristocratic monu-
ments of the sixth and fifth centuries began to be reproduced in the shape of cippi or
small cube-shaped monuments with false doors. A good example of this sort of stele
is provided by the ara Guglielmi of Vulci, dating from the third century, where on the
front, between two columns, the deceased appears so as to benefit from the sacrificial
rites being performed before this funerary altar.26
25 Krauskopf 2006.
26 Cristofani 1989 (= Cristofani 2001, 725–30).

Sanctuaries seem to be dedicated to the gods, such as la Cannicella in Orvieto,

where small temples (naiskoi) reserved for the worship of the dead, are found.27
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exhibition catalogue. Montepulciano: Le Balze.

Hilary Becker
Abstract: The period from 450–250 BCE witnesses a number of changes in Etruria’s economy, some
of changes related to the international and regional relationships that each city had. This period saw
the fall of Veii, as well as changes to the north in Po-area Etruria. In many areas, the demographic
concentration of the hinterland increases in tandem with a rise in agricultural production.
Etruscan sanctuaries played an economic role in their larger community at all times; the evi-
dence for this activity in this period is considered here. This activity includes the votive objects them-
selves, some of which, at least, seem to have been purchased at the sacred site. The resources that
a temple could amass because of dedicatory offerings could even attract looting, for which there are
attestations during this period. Weights found in sacred contexts also allow us to understand more
about the economic dimensions of the temple. Finally, the evidence for coinage and state property is
briefly reviewed.
Keywords: coinage, economy, votives
Introduction
The onset of the Classical period saw the steady decline of Etruscan trade at the sites
of traditional emporia, and at the same time, the development of new and expanded
economic opportunities at Populonia and in the Po Plain. The new economic reali-
ties of this period in Etruria were, at times, connected to Rome and its progressive
expansion northwards. In 396 BCE, Rome annexed the territory of Veii and dispatched
colonists there.1 The wars between Veii and Rome, according to the ancient histori-
ans, had occurred intermittently since at least the time of Romulus. While the causes
of this deep rivalry are manifold, the economic tensions between these two sites are
easy to spot, for they both aimed at controlling the vital Tiber river traffic. Both Rome
and Veii were also active in the salt trade, and when Rome first defeated Veii in the
eighth century, ancient historians later recorded that Rome took land away from Veii
that included the salt beds.2
1 Livy 5.30.8; Diod. Sic. 14.102.4.

2 Plut. Rom. 25.4. Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 2.55; Livy 1.15.5; for the salt beds as a reference point during the
final war, see Livy 5.45.8. See Roselaar 2010, 41–44 for a brief summary of the Roman distribution of
the territory belonging to Veii.
1130 Hilary Becker
Fig. 61.1: Tombstone of Vel Kaikna. End of the fifth century

(Photo credit: Museo Civico Archeologico. Used with
permission, Museo Civico Archeologico di Bologna)
1 The Po Plain
Etruscan territory was encroached upon along its northern boundaries as well, when
the Gauls took much of the Po Plain in the first half of the fourth century. The Gauls
occupied Marzabotto and became the “chief middlemen” for the long-distance trade
passing through that area.3 The transportation networks controlled by the Etruscans
in this area experienced changes, as did the population. The number of Attic vases
reaching Felsina in the fourth century fell drastically from fifth century levels, but
Spina itself continued to receive a large number into the end of the fourth century.4


61 Economy, 450–250 BCE 1131
Indeed, the port city of Spina continued to thrive from the second half of the fourth to
the late third century, with funereal and epigraphic evidence pointing to an increased
population, which may be a result of Etruscans moving from elsewhere in the Po Plain
during this crisis period. In fact, the dominance of this Etruscan port was so strong
that the Athenians became concerned about the safety of their grain due to the Etrus-
can pirates in this area.5 The tombstone of Vel Kaikna (end of the fifth century) testi-
fies to the vitality of Etruscan maritime commerce at this time (Fig. 61.1). It depicts a
large Etruscan merchant marine ship at sea.6 Interestingly, Vel Kaikna was buried at
Felsina (Bologna) but plied his trade in the Adriatic waters based out of Spina, which,
as Giuseppe Sassatelli notes, shows the commercial interconnectedness of these two
important sites.7
2 Land use and the changing agricultural economy

Whether by a greedy Gaul or a land-hungry member of the Gracchi family, the terri-
tory of the Etruscans was historically targeted by the Romans, Gauls, and others. The
fecundity of Etruscan soil was cited as one of the reasons the Gauls entered central
Italy in the fourth century:
“The story is handed down that this people, entranced by the delightfulness of the produce of
the fields and especially by the new (at that time) pleasure of the wine, crossed the Alps and pos-
sessed the fields previously cultivated by Etruscans.”8
According to the ancient historians, the Clusine merchant Arruns traveled north to
trade with the Gauls, bringing with him products of Chiusi: olive oil, figs, and wine.9
The story goes on to explain that the Gauls were so impressed by these products—
which they considered superior to their own—that they were easily persuaded by
Arruns to invade Chiusi. Arruns told the Gauls that the land of Chiusi was large, fruit-
ful, and sparsely inhabited. The story of Arruns, however fictional, does have many
points of interest for an economic examination of this area. Such references to the
irresistible fecundity of the Etruscan lands provide a strong impression of a robust
and varied agricultural production.
During the fourth century, in many territories (e.g. Tarquinia, Chiusi, and Fiesole),
the minor settlements that had been prominent in the Archaic period rebounded,
5 Sassatelli 1993, 216. See also Giuffrida Ientile 1983, 84–87.

6 Jannot 1995, 775–776. Sassateli 1993, 188.
8 Livy 5.33.
9 Livy 5.33.2–5; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 13.10.3–13.11.2; Plut. Vit. Cam. 15.3–17.4.

1132 Hilary Becker
and other, new small centers developed. One notable trend during this period is the
emergence of a group of small hilltop settlements that correspond closely to the Latin
term castellum.10 While many of these sites were occupied in the Archaic period, it is
in the fourth and third centuries that they acquire monumental fortifications. Cas-
tella are found in many areas of Etruria, but notably in liminal areas between the
borders of city-states. The increasingly dense occupation of the hinterland by such
sites, as well as other small centers and farms, points to a more intense agricultural
production that would have served these minor centers as well as the larger ones, and
evidently provided sufficient yields for export (see chapter 67 Becker). Rome at this
time certainly knew of Etruria’s agricultural strength, because Rome asked for grain
repeatedly during the fifth century.11 While in later Etruscan history, grain could be
something demanded from Rome as an indemnity or as an ally’s contribution to a
war effort,12 in this earlier period Etruria was the “go-to” area for acquiring grain (ad
frumentum mercandum)13 to relieve Rome’s occasionally blighted supply.
3 Economy and the sacred sphere

Votive dedications were made in Etruria as early as Proto-Villanovan times and the
dedication of votives continued after the collapse of many of the most popular sanc-
tuaries in late Etruscan/early Imperial times.14 The dedication of votive objects was
inherently an economic transaction.15 Whether a dedicant brought first fruits, coins,
a bronze statue, or a molded terracotta shaped like a human body part, these prod-
ucts were intended as a reciprocal exchange with the gods. The Latin formula, do ut
des, roughly means “I, the dedicant, give something so that you (the god) should give
something in return.” Thus offerings given to the gods were usually made to ask the
gods for assistance or to give thanks for help already rendered.
During this time mold-made terracotta votives could be manufactured more
quickly and at less expense for dedicants. Focusing on one type of these votives in
particular, the widespread use of anatomical votives is economically relevant because
they are typically not found in different contexts (e.g. homes, tombs, etc.), but occur
only in known sacred spots or sites that could have had a sacral import. For this reason
it is highly likely that souvenir stands existed at sacred sites, ready to sell worship-
10 Becker 2002–2003; 2008; Cerasuolo and Pulcinelli 2008; Prayon 2008.

11 Livy 2.34.5; 4.12.9; 4.25.4; 4.52.5. Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 7.12.3 and 12.1.2. See Colonna 1985, 106–8.
12 Livy 9.41.4; 28.45.13–18.
13 Livy 4.52.5.
14 Turfa 2006a. For recent collections of votives from many different Etruscan sites, see: Comella and
Torelli 1986–; Simon et al. 2004; Comella and Mele 2005.
15 Becker 2009.

61 Economy, 450–250 BCE 1133
pers the anatomical votive (or figurine) that best suited their dedicatory need(s). Such
souvenir stands—likely made of wood—would leave little or no archaeological trace.
In her study of anatomical votives, Jean Turfa notes that out of the perhaps
tens of thousands that were made in terracotta (and occasionally in metal) from the
late fourth to the first century, only four extant Etruscan anatomical votives were
inscribed.16 A prefiring inscription made on a terracotta model of a knee found at the
Ara della Regina at Tarquinia indicates that “Vel Tiples dedicated” it.17 The handful
of terracotta anatomical votives that were inscribed beforehand indicates that these
were specifically commissioned before they were fired. But for the thousands of other
such votives, many of them were made in batches in advance in order to be sold at
sacred sites to whomever might have had the need to buy such products.
Over time, sanctuaries could amass large amounts of resources such that they
served as treasuries of a sort. Some resources with short shelf lives, like agricultural
donations, could even have been used by the sanctuary staff. Considering ancient
economies in general, Karl Polanyi posits, “the personnel of the temples consumes a
large part of the payments made to the temple in kind,” such that we might imagine
offerings such as first fruits being consumed by the temple staff and their families.18
When and where coinage (as well as pre-monetary devices such as aes signatum) were
used, such offerings could have also been used by the staff of a sanctuary.
And while—according to ancient mores—temples were sometimes considered off-
limits for military looting, the wealth of stores that temples could contain made them
prime targets for rapacious generals. In 384, Dionysius of Syracuse went to war against
Etruria ostensibly for the suppression of pirates. He used a wealthy Etruscan sanctu-
ary at Pyrgi, where he collected “no less than a thousand talents,” to help finance his
continued expedition.19 The fall of Volsinii in 264 was lucrative, perhaps due to its
sanctuaries—sanctuaries which may have included the Fanum Voltumnae. Pliny the
Elder records that the Romans took 2,000 statues (probably votive statues) as their
booty. Indeed, Pliny’s report of statues being taken from this site may not be without
merit, for the Roman victor Fulvius Flaccus set up a dedicatory monument in front of
the twin temples of Fortuna and Mater Matuta at the sanctuary of Sant’Omobono in
Rome.20 On the top surfaces of both donaria (one of which was inscribed: Fig. 38.10),
divots with traces of bronze can clearly be seen (Fig. 61.2). These divots very probably
once held a few of these statues and were perhaps part of Flaccus’ personal spoils.21
16 Turfa 2006b, 73; Turfa 2004, 363. All of these inscriptions date from the third and second centuries
BCE.
17 Turfa 2004, 363 no. 301; CIE 10012 = TLE 898; Colonna 1966.
18 Polanyi 1957, 27; Becker 2009, 94.
19 Diod. Sic. 15.14.3–5.
20 Plin. HN 34.16.
21 Torelli 1968. See chapter 38 Torelli.

1134 Hilary Becker
Fig. 61.2: Rome, Area sacra di Sant’Omobono: the circular donarium of M. Fulvius Flaccus.
Indentations along the top are attachment points for bronze statues. (Photo credit: H. Becker.
Used with permission, Sovraintendenza ai Beni Culturali di Roma Capitale)
Offerings made at Monte Falterona between the sixth and third centuries include
more than 1,000 pieces of bronze and copper, numerous pieces of aes rude, as well as
some aes signatum and aes grave, amongst other offerings.22 The excavators observe
that the aes rude deposited at the site varies in size and this points to an ancient tradi-
tion where bronze was a weight standard by which other things were valued. Thus in
a consideration of consumer preferences and how goods were used, sacred sites and
their dedications should be considered.
4 Weights in the sacral sphere

The presence of weights at sanctuaries speaks to careful accounting—certainly a form
of economic behavior—that occurred in the sacral sphere. Metal weights were found
in a number of different contexts, such as the weight discovered at the late archaic
22 Ducci 2005, 24–46; Turfa 2006a, 99.

61 Economy, 450–250 BCE 1135
farm, datable from the second half of the sixth to the middle of the fifth century at
Pian d’Alma (Vetulonia) (see chapter 28 Maggiani).23 Adriano Maggiani writes that
of ten extant, inscribed weights, five can be associated with a sacred context on the
basis of their findspot or the specific content of their inscription.24 The great majority
of weights date to the fourth and third centuries, although weights were certainly in
use long before (such as the stone weights from Po-area Etruria discussed in chapter
55 Becker). Two weights associated with a sacred building at località I Fucoli at Chian-
ciano Terme are bronze with a lead core and date to the late fourth to third centuries.25
These weights seem to be a pair, as they both take the form of janiform heads; one has
the face of a woman on each side, in the other, a maenad and a silenus. The maenad-
shaped weight weighs 265 g and the other 576 g. Given that the first weight is heavily
worn (and so might have originally been 288 g), it seems that these objects conformed
to the same scale, so that one was twice the weight of the other. The aforementioned
metal weight from the farm at Pian d’Alma is also 288 g, which is believed to corre-
spond to the Etruscan pound in south-central Etruria.26 A weight dating to the third
century—now in a private collection—has an inscription dedicated to the god Catha.27
This weight can be related to the two from Chianciano because it weighs 144 g, half of
the aforementioned pound.
A weight dating to the fourth–early third century from the sacred area of
Sant’Antonio at Caere reveals even more about the weight standard and how these
weights might have been used (Fig. 28.3). It bears a ten-line inscription that has a
number read as “IIC” or “2.5.” If one discounts the weight of the hanging ring that
once supported this object, it weighs 716.28 g; 716 g is roughly 2.5 times the Etrus-
can pound, such that this seems to be another standardized weight.28 In addition,
the inscribed weight is dedicated to Turms (with the possible epithet of Rath), the
Etruscan Mercury. The Greeks believed that Mercury was the inventor of weights and
measures, and it seems possible from this weight that Turms may have had a similar
association for the Etruscans.29 The inscription further states that the weight was ded-
icated by L(ar)c(e) Penthe and Vel Lape in the sacred area of Hercle (Hercules) when
Larth Nulathe was serving as a zilath (zilc), a chief magistracy.30 But it is the name
of a magistrate on a votive gift of this nature that should draw attention. Were the
dedicatees concerned with eponymously dating their gift so that the god would know
23 Maggiani 2002, 169–170.

24 Maggiani 2001 and 2002.
25 Rastrelli 1993, 463.
26 Maggiani 2001.
27 Maggiani 2001, 67 and 72.
28 Maggiani 2001, 69; Maggiani 2002, 168.
29 Diod. Sic. 5.75.2. Maggiani 2001, 73.
30 Maggiani 2001, 72–73; Maggiani 2002, 167–68; Becker 2013, 356.

1136 Hilary Becker
in what year Larce and Vel had been so generous? That does not seem to be the case
based on contemporary Roman practice.
In ancient Rome, first the aedilis and later the praefectus urbi was charged with
enforcing the weight standard, and they would compare any unknown quantities
against those public weights that were kept at sites such as the Capitoline temple or
the temple of the Dioscuri.31 Some of these weights bear inscriptions that state where
and under whose authority they were deposited. In the case of the Etruscan example,
it may be the zilath or other magistrate was charged with ensuring the accuracy of the
inscribed weight.32 Thus it seems that this weight, and the other weights associated
with religious contexts, may have been gifts given that could have been used by the
temple staff. To bring back to mind the evidence of wear on the lighter weight from
Chianciano, it is possible that this weight was used before it came to the sacred site—
that is, that this weight was used in daily life and then came to be dedicated. With that
with possibility not being excluded, the collective evidence of these weights suggests
that this wear could have also resulted from use at the sacred site itself. At the very
least, the presence of such tools at some sacred sites suggests that weights could have
been used to weigh donations of gifts made at a sanctuary.
5 Coinage
The first recognizably state-issued coins in Etruria were minted by Populonia in silver
and the first datable coin (second half of the fifth century) was found in a secure
context at Prestino (Como).33 Catalli observes that the use of a standard currency at
Populonia may have been encouraged by the “internal market” between this city and
Elba, which involved the transportation and processing of Elban ore.34 Mauro Cri
stofani, while acknowledging this possibility, also suggests that the impetus for the
introduction of coinage at Populonia could have been the expense incurred by the
city for defending itself against incursions by Syracuse in 453 and 384 BCE.35
Importantly, not all city-states seem to have minted coinage, and it was never
pervasive for basic transactions. Some cities see a limited circulation, and the coins
of one city do not seem to be used all over Etruria, but the coins instead tend to follow
the major trade patterns enjoyed by the issuing city itself. For example, Populonia’s
coins do travel beyond its territorial borders during the fourth and third centuries,
31 Maggiani 2001, 73; Bertinetti 1985, 109; Corti 2001. See Cic. Ad fam. 8.6.4 and Juv. 10.101.
32 Maggiani 2002, 168.
33 Catalli 1990, 30, 41, 56; Cristofani 1986, 144.
34 Catalli 2001, 90.
35 Cristofani 1986, 144. That is, the expenses involved in outfitting an army to protect the coast of
Populonia as well as their interests in Elba and its ore. See also Parise 1985, 260.

61 Economy, 450–250 BCE 1137
and are found in Cecina, Aleria (Corsica), Elba, Roselle, Vetulonia, and even towards
the interior (Sovana and the Ombrone Valley).36 For more on the monetary issues of
other cities, see chapter 27 Catalli in this volume.
6 State property
The ability to mint standardized coinage certainly shows the economic strength of a
city-state. A few examples from the Hellenistic period demonstrate that the state was
buying property and labeling it. The word spura refers to the city and is found in dif-
ferent forms (e.g. the adjective spurana) or even abbreviated as sp/spu.37 Much like
the Greeks labeled state property as demosion,38 this word seems also to have marked
objects owned by a particular city-state. Other objects were labeled as state property
in this period include: a helmet,39 some roof tiles,40 a bronze vase,41 and an irregularly
shaped piece of bronze (possibly aes rude).42 A dolium from Chiusi, dated to the third
century BCE, reads mi spural or “community property.”43 It could be that this vase
was used for a city function and/or for redistribution. Or it could be that this vase
was a standard liquid or dry measure, and that like the small piece of bronze (if it has
been correctly interpreted), it might provide evidence of the city-state being involved
in regularizing trade and commerce. The aforementioned inscribed weight from the
sanctuary at Sant’Antonio at Caere certainly would fit within this hypothesis.
Conclusion
While the material presented here represents a concise overview of the economy of
this key period, certain important trends have emerged. By highlighting two societal
spheres—the state and the sacral sphere—that are not often considered in terms of the
Etruscan economy, it has been possible to elucidate key information about the eco-
nomic dynamics of the Etruscan state and Etruscan ritual centers. On another level,
changing regional settlement patterns in certain areas had important consequences
36 Martelli 1981, 173.

37 For a full list of these inscriptions, see Watmough 1997, 47–51; Becker 2010.
38 See e.g. Davidson and Thompson 1943, 28 no. 3, 30 no. 26 and Donati 2010.
39 TLE 694.
40 Colonna 1975.
41 Colonna 1988, 19 footnote 21; TLE 421; CII 446. See also Cristofani 1979, 125, no. 2, which notes that
the inscription was copied in a seventeenth century text but is now lost.
42 Maggiani 1972.
43 Maggiani 1978; TLE 487.

1138 Hilary Becker
in terms of demography, productive capacity, and the ethnicities present. In the next
centuries, the economic history of Etruria would at times overlap significantly with
that of Rome, especially because intermittent truces, treaties, or even outright warfare
certainly affected the interchange between Etruria and Rome. By the third century,
Roselle, Tarquinia, Caere, Vulci and Volsinii would fall, and Rome would take on ter-
ritory along the Etruscan littoral.44
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Stefano Bruni
Abstract: From a political perspective, the external relations of Etruria between the fifth and third
centuries BCE were deeply related to the struggle for supremacy in the Tyrrhenian and Adriatic Seas,
and the policies of the major powers of the time—Athens and Syracuse. Etruria was important both
for the control of grain markets of the Arno and Po Valleys and the acquisition of iron and other metal
deposits of Tuscany, but also as a bridgehead for trade with Central Europe. Such intense exchanges
did not only involve the political and commercial dimension: data provided by personal names attests
to the stable presence of Greek individuals in Etruria at different levels of society. Some episodes
mentioned in the literary sources allow us to reconstruct the dynamics of the expansion and contrac-
tion of the Athenian and Syracusan spheres of influence in the western Mediterranean, but it is from
the archaeological data—and above all from the importations of ceramics—that it is possible to shed
light on the issue. The situations shown by the archeological record vary widely in different parts of
Etruria, both because of the different social structures of the Etruscan cities and the different inter-
national political balance in the middle and lower Tyrrhenian Sea and in the Adriatic Sea. In the fifth
century, the Syracusan hegemony grew in the Tyrrhenian Sea, while Athens resumed its own policy
towards the western Mediterranean, vying for control of the routes leading to the grain markets of
Spina, Adria, and beyond. The end of the century saw a deep change, with the arrival on the scene of
the Campanians, who took Capua in 423 BCE. The allocation of the Samnites in the Nolan and Picen-
tinian countryside mark the end of the Etruscans in Campania, while the arrival of the Gauls in the
Po Valley and the subsequent crushing of the system closes the era of Etruscan control of that region.
The Etruscan world is thus enclosed within the boundaries that will mark Etruria in the administra-
tive division of the Augustan regiones. Rome was going to subtract Veii in 396, while Syracuse was
going to plunder the sanctuary of Pyrgi in 384. Within the framework outlined by these events, the
political structure of the Etruscan world elaborates a profound transformation of social geography
and geometry, which has different methods and timing in various districts of the region. After a period
of reactivation in the late Classical and early Hellenistic ages, by the first half of the third century, the
rise of Rome will mark the beginning of the slow decline of dynamism of Tyrrhenian Etruria.
Keywords: Tyrrhenian Sea, Adriatic Sea, Attic Pottery, Piracy, Syracuse
1 Tyrrhenian Sea
The years around the mid fifth century BCE are without a doubt one of the most criti-
cal moments of the entire history of the Etruscan world, marking a period of profound
changes in both the Tyrrhenian area and the Adriatic area including the Po Valley.
In these years, the Syracusan hegemony grew in the Tyrrhenian Sea. In conjunction
with the loosening of the Athenian presence in this area after the failure of the expedi-
tion in Egypt in 452, Syracuse launched an attack against the Etruscans in 453–452,
first under the command of Phaillos, and later under Apelles (Diod. Sic. 2.88.4–5).
Continuing the politics of Hiero I, who had occupied and fortified Pithecoussai in the
Bay of Naples twenty years earlier (in 474, the year of the battle of Cumae), the Syra-
cusans founded Portus Siracusanus in Corsica and simultaneously occupied Elba,
1142 Stefano Bruni
where they established, albeit for a short period, the so-called Port of Argo. The liter-
ary sources (Mir. ausc. 105; Strabo 5.6; Diod. Sic. 4.56.5) project this settlement in the
mythic tale of Jason and the Argonauts. The Syracusan domain on the island, which
occupies a central place in the Tyrrhenian Sea not only in the plot of the routes, but
also for the importance of its mineral deposits, was short lived, and Elba soon passed
under the control of Populonia. However, Apelles’ efforts probably lead to the crisis of
the southern centers of Tyrrhenian Etruria, which had already suffered the repercus-
sions of the events of 474.1
For its part, Athens sealed a thirty-year truce with Sparta in 446/445 and resumed
its own policy towards the western Mediterranean. It founded Thurii and the philia
with the Messapian population, Neapolis (epoikia of Athens and Chalkis), and the
network of alliances with the western Chalkidian cities, which has been renewed in
433/432 in the case of Reggio and Leontini. In term of Athens’ granary needs, Neapolis
was closely intertwined with Cumae, Dicearchia and the Etruscan cities of Capua and
Nola. Etruria was important too, both for the control of the Arno and Po Valley grain
markets, and the acquisition of iron and other metal deposits in Tuscany.2
Literary sources concerning the policy of Athens in these years do not explic-
itly reference Etruria. However, the symmachia between Athenians and Etruscans
during the second great Athenian expedition to Sicily in 415 is mentioned by Thucy-
dides (Thuc. 6. 88. 6), who saw three Etruscan penteconterai reaching Demosthenes,
Eurymedon and the other Athenians in the siege of Syracuse in the summer of 414/413
(Thuc. 6.103.3–4). It is easy to assume that the philia of these years was a continuation
and development of premises posed earlier.
The text by Thucydides does not specify which Etruscans participated in the
expedition against Syracuse. The reference to a plurality of Etruscan cities suggests
that the alliance between Athens and the Etruscans was to be implemented through
the channels of the league of Duodecim Populi Etruriae. A first century CE Latin
inscription commemorating Velthur Spurinna—a noble from Tarquinia who was the
first Etruscan to reach Sicily with an army (Fig. 38.13)—gives us, perhaps, the name of
the commander of the contingent that participated in the siege of Syracuse in 413, and
indirectly confirms the fact that the symmachia was between Athens and the Etruscan
cities on the Tyrrhenian Sea. It is much more difficult to identify which cities these
were. In addition to Tarquinia, some other indication may come from the recovery
of Pylian legends connected with the figure of Nestor and the Neleids. These legends
characterize Athens’ ideological horizon in the years of the treaty with Segesta, in a
moment of special significance for the political relationships of Athens with the West
and the Tyrrhenian area. They seem to be the most appropriate ideological media-
tion in order to develop an adequate historical painting of the political orientation
1 Colonna 2005, 69–94.

2 Lepore 1988, 485–503.

in Tyrrhenian Etruria, both within individual groups of aristocrats—as in the case of

Satie family in Vulci, who had Nestor as their mythical ancestor—and in entire com-
munities—as in the case of Pisa, which was founded by Nestor’s Pylians according to
a tradition recorded by Strabo. The Pylians would have come to the West during the
Trojan Nostoi, founding the cities of Metaponto, in the Ionian Gulf, and Pisa, in the
upper Tyrrhenian Sea. The legend of an Ionian consanguinity was source of law and
predestined solidarity with Athens, so it follows that the symmachia stipulated in the
winter of 415/414 included among its actors both the cities of southern Etruria and
those of the northern Tyrrhenian district.3
Since the data mentioned by tradition does not offer further evidence, and other
clues are very unstable, extreme caution is mandatory in historical reconstruction.
However, even if we can legitimately assume that similar relationships and alliances
between Athens and the various Etruscan cities proceeded on several occasions—
including in the form of individual philiai with local rulers, as in the corresponding
case of Artas, a Messapian lord (Thuc. 7. 33. 4)—the symmachia of 415/414 is adequate
for the scenario offered by Etruria in the second half of the fifth century. In the case
of Metaponto, another ally of Athens at the time of Demosthenes and the Eurymedon
effort, the conflict with Taranto that arose after the founding of Heraclea (the Achean
city under pressure both by Taranto and the inland Lucanians) may have offered a
means of alliance with Athens, according to the political and diplomatic processes
that characterize all the action of Athens during the second half of the fifth century.
In the case of Tyrrhenian Etruria, on the other hand, the activation of the alliance with
Athens against Syracuse was the result of the shipments of Phaillos and Apelles in the
upper Tyrrhenian Sea at the century’s halfway point.
The Syracusan affairs seem to have left no traces on the archaeological record,
except for the presence of rare coins from the mint of Syracuse in the port of Pisa, at
the mouth of the Arno River, at the Basilica of San Piero a Grado.4 The relations of
Athens with the Etruscan world are instead very much in evidence, and go beyond
simple—yet statistically significant—economics and commercial life.
2 Adriatic sea
Athens paid much attention to the Etruscan district of the northern Adriatic Sea.
Athens had been interested in this area since 470/460, as the mythic Attic tradition
with the Sophoclean version of the legend of Antenor (which is set among the Venet-
ics) indirectly attests. Athenian policy and support to the Greek colony of Korkyra in
3 Bruni 2004a, 256–63.

4 Bruni 2001a, 88–89, fig. 17.

1144 Stefano Bruni
436/435 should be seen as a function of protection of the routes that led to this area
through the Strait of Otranto.5
It is possible to see the presence of Attic emporoi and naukleroi active in the
first half of the fifth century in the network of trade that took place in the markets
of Adria and Spina. Here the Po Valley cereal production was sold, along with other
food products and goods that were meant to meet Attic and more generally Aegean
demands. The dedicatory inscription written in the Attic alphabet on a kylix of the
first quarter of the century found in Adria is a clue of this presence. Not by chance,
the Greek names on the inscriptions from Spina, starting from 475, show a predomi-
nant origin from Athens of the Greeks in the city. The Aeginetic component decreased
after 457/456, after the victory of Athens over the city of Aegina and the seizure of the
island’s military fleet. Thus, during the entire second half of the century, the role of
Athens became predominant—though not exclusive—in this very complex emporia
characterized by a wide polyphony of accents. These accents can be seen from the
Attic, Aeginetic, Corinthian, Korkyrian and Siceliote trademarks on pottery and from
the commercial amphorae diffused in the Po Valley. In addition to Attic, Corinthian
and Korkyrian specimens, there are amphorae from Chios, Samos, Mende and the so-
called Ionian-Marseille type, now firmly associated with the wine production of the
western Chalkidian area, which is to say Siceliote.
Within this framework, in Spina and the other Po Valley centers we find the
extraordinary diffusion of Attic painted vases and black-glazed ware. The arrival of
the Celts there and the steady expansion of their possessions in the sub-alpine region
were changing the political balance to the detriment of the Etruscans. This situation
culminated in the second quarter of the fourth century with the appropriation by the
Boii of the area between the Po and the Apennines, occupying the territory of Etrus-
can Felsina.
Unlike the Tyrrhenian area, where after 480 the influx of Attic pottery begins
to decline, from the second quarter of the century to the second half of the fourth
century, Spina is one of the most important steps in the process of distributing Athe-
nian products in the western Mediterranean. Attic pottery was linked to the needs
of an emerging class, and had a specific relief in Spina, providing reference points
needed to satisfy the needs of individuals and social groups. The phenomenon
appears to be intense compared to the situation in other western areas concerned
with the presence of Athens. Both the quantitative aspect of the phenomenon and the
widespread distribution in modest contexts give us a glimpse of this situation. Attic
ceramics continued to arrive in Spina even after the end of the Peloponnesian War
and during the Dionigian phase.
Such intense exchanges hardly involved only the commercial dimension. Data
provided by personal names testifies the stable presence of Athenian individuals in
5 Venezia 1999, 41–70.

Spina. The woman and other people buried in tombs 147A, 136A, 1049B and 405 were
from Athens, as it is possible to see from the presence of white ground lekythoi, a par-
ticular kind of vase exclusively linked to Athenian funeral practices. Other evidence,
such as the presence of small red-figure choes in a small number of infantile graves
(tombs 35, 104, 564, 1007 from the Valle Trebba area)—connected to the Dionysian fes-
tivals of Anthesteria and typically Attic—looks more uncertain, but no less significant.
It is still difficult to see how Athens was a paradigm of reference in the complex
and still little-known political and cultural history of Spina. From the data in our pos-
session, however, through the commercial channels, it is possible to recognize a phe-
nomenon of conscious selection of the vascular repertoire, ordination of particular
shapes, and reporting to Attic artisans, of Spinetic market preferences.
All the classical Athenian workshops are represented in Spina—not only the
pottery painters marked by deeply individualism, but also those artisans of more
modest stature who are more distant from the creations of great masters. From the
point of view of shapes, it is possible to see how the reception of Attic pottery is guided
by specific guidelines both in taste and ideology. Thus the preference for the krater,
in all its morphological variants, is accompanied by a little attention to the shape of
the homologous stamnos, a form produced by the workshops of Athens by the end of
the sixth century probably for the Etruscan market and for the Etruscan areas of Cam-
pania. Among the drinking vessels, there is a clear preference for the kylikes B-type,
both black-glazed and painted. Skyphoi are much rarer than kylikes, as documented
by high-quality examples and the more modest versions of the Saint-Valentin class.
However, the particular preference for kylikes is confirmed by the high number of this
type of vase in the late fifth century and at the beginning of the fourth century. They
were sometimes decorated by the finest Attic pottery painters of the moment, such as
the Kodros Painter, the Eretria Painter, the Fauvel Painter, the Calliope Painter, the
Meleager Painter, the Jena Painter, the Diomedes Painter, and Aison. Until the third
quarter of the fourth century, there is a significant number of red-figure skyphoi of the
Fat Boy Group and similar productions, even if the phenomenon seems more linked to
the characteristic of production in this time—when from the beginning of the century,
one of most popular forms is the skyphos, which gradually replaces the kylix—than to
shifts in taste.
Starting at the end of the fifth century and in the first three quarters of the fourth
century, the presence of Attic pottery in Spina is clearly different from the rest of
Etruria. For the presence of high-quality cases, this is both morphologically true —
such as the large volute krater found in the tomb 136 painted by the Painter of Athens
12255 and hump A of Valle Pega, and ideologically true, such as the lebes gamikos
of the Meidias Painter entourage in the tomb 1166, Valle Trebba. This is very close to
Attic ideological heritage and may not be separated from involvement with the cults
of Eleusis. Attic pottery in Spina is also clearly different from the rest of Etruria based
on the extraordinary occurrence of particular forms decorated in red-figure tech-
nique. In addition to fish dishes—a substantially non-Attic shape of which twenty-one

1146 Stefano Bruni
specimens were found in Spina and one specimen was found on Monte Bibele, in the
Idice Valley on the Bolognese Apennines (where it came through Spina and perhaps
Felsina)—the stemmed dishes have particular significance. They are shaped in a very
peculiar way, which was related to the specific needs of the symposium and convivial
ritual of the communities of the Etruscan Po Valley and upper Adriatic Sea. In fact,
despite sporadic appearances in Rutigliano and Ruvo in the Peucetic area in Apulia,
this kind of vessel is documented only in Numana and Spina, and significantly in
Felsina and the surrounding area (Marzabotto and Sasso Marconi). The occurrence of
local versions carried out on Attic models in the oldest manufacturing of the Picenian
area in the middle and high Adriatic Sea indicates how the type substantially consti-
tutes an Adriatic phenomenon. The concentration of Attic specimens in Spina is also
significant. This shape had to be of particular value, since a prestigious large kylix
from tomb 733 in Valle Trebba, and two small cups—one by the Aberdeen Painter and
the other by the Painter of London E777—in tomb 991 in the same area, were cut out
as stemmed dishes.
In addition to Attic pottery, Corinthian pottery also reaches Spina—not only com-
mercial amphorae, but a whole (albeit small) series of achromatic or black-painted
vases with geometric and phytomorphic patterns, offering a fairly broad morphologi-
cal spectrum including trefoil oinochoai, jugs, lebetes, kotyliskoi, lekanides, pyxides,
single-handled bowls and aryballoi. These vessels, which are not documented in
any other Po Valley or, more generally, Etrurian center, are evidence of a circuit of
exchange due to Corinthian navigation in the Adriatic Sea. This is probably by way of
the Epidamni, vital even after the mid-fifth century, whose final outcome will be the
attempt of a re-founding of Epidamnos after the crisis of 435. They also witness deeper
relationships between Spina and Corinth, which are to be seen in the use of vessels
for ointments and miniature kotylai in child burials, a practice widely attested in the
Peloponnesian city. At the end of the fifth century, other exceptional components
are added, like the Boeotians and the Metapontinians. Boeotian vessels, such as a
skyphos by the Argos Painter from tomb 743 in Valle Trebba and a calyx krater from
the same necropolis, appear completely isolated. On the other hand, the bell krater
by the Mesagne Painter in tomb 464 in Valle Trebba or the skyphos from tomb 564 in
the same necropolis, both from Metaponto, are the final outcome of the commercial
circuit that in the same years carries figured pottery from the Lucanian factories in
Numana and other centers of the Picenian area.6
The limited documentation from fourth-century Adria does not allow us to define
a precise framework of this city. However, limited available data seem to indicate a
situation substantially similar, with a constant flow of Attic products to Adria until
the third quarter of the fourth century,7 coinciding with significant circulation of
6 Bruni 2004b, 77–116.

7 Arles 2000, 93–98; Sacchetti 2011, 97–149.

Athenian coins in the Adriatic, which are documented in Aquileia and Split in the late
fourth century.8
The control of the routes leading to the grain markets of Spina, Adria, the Adriatic
coast and beyond was a major concern for Athens throughout the fifth and fourth cen-
turies. In the changed situation of the whole Adriatic sector one has to note the action
of the two Syracusan Dionysius to control the paralia by Syracuse and the engage-
ment of Athens in suppressing piracy.9 Piracy was popular. In 392, the people of Lipari
kidnapped one tenth of the spoils of Veii from the Roman ambassadors who were
going to Delphi (Livy 5.28; Val. Max 1. 4; Diod. Sic. 14. 93); in 347, Aeginetians made
raids against the Athenian ships on behalf of Sparta; in 345, Greeks—and may be Syra-
cusans—were the pirates who infested the sea from Antium to the Tiber (Livy 7.25.26).
The phenomenon was attributed to Etruscans in late classical Athenian literature and
propaganda. The speeches by Hyperides in the ekklesia of Athens (Perì phulakés Tyr-
rhenon) and Dinarco (Tyrrenikòs lógos) are little more than titles to us. It seems no
coincidence, however, that the monument of Lysikrates (erected in 334 at the theater
of Dionysos in Athens) projects in the myth of Dionysos and the Tyrrhenian pirates
the episode of the navarch Diotimo, which in 335 performed with great success an
expedition against the leista (IG II 2, 1263). The Etruscan piracy had considerable size
during the second half of the century, and was not limited to the Adriatic district:
Postumius, who ran the sea with twelve ships and appeared in the harbor of Syracuse
to offer his services to Timoleon in 339 (Diod. Sic. 16. 82) was probably Tyrrhenian.
However, Athens was primarily concerned by the Adriatic sector, so much so that in
325, it established—by decree—the foundation of a colony, then unrealized, eis Adríav
to ensure phulake Tyrrenon.
3 Greeks in Etruria
The Tyrrhenian area appears very different, both because of the social structure of
the Etruscan cities and the international political balance in the middle and lower
Tyrrhenian Sea.10
Stably integrated Greeks are also known in the Tyrrhenian Etrurian cities. They
were mostly metics. One was the potter Metron, which changed his name to Metru in
Populonia, painted vases in the style of classical Athens and most likely was buried
in the city near the Gulf of Baratti (ET Po. 6.1 and ET Po. 0.2). Another was Deiakos,
documented by the graffito on an Marseille amphora at the end of the fifth or early
8 Venezia 1999, 167–68.

9 Giuffrida Ientile 1983; Venezia 2004; Bruni 2013.
10 Roma 1990, 7–49; 189–98.

1148 Stefano Bruni
in the fourth century, that became Teace in Etruria (REE 2001, no. 22). There were
also women, like Thanchvil at Vulci, who wrote her name at the bottom of an attic
red-figure oinochoe dating to the third quarter of the fifth century (ET Vc 2.33–2.34;
CIE 11178). This phenomenon also affects other levels of society. In fact, the woman
buried in Populonia with the rich set including the two extraordinary hydriai—one
with the myth of Adonis and the other with that of Phaone11—is likely Greek, or better
Athenian. Someone who was certainly a Greek was Polles, who moved to Cerveteri
around 400, changed his name to Pule, assumed the first name Laris, and was the
ancestor of the gens of the Laris Pulena (CIE 5430), one of the most important families
of Tarquinia in the Hellenistic age.12 As in the cases of Spina mentioned above, the
graves with three attic white ground lekythoi known from the necropolis of Monte-
rozzi can be connected to Greeks moved to Tarquinia.13
4 Attic Pottery in Etruria

The fracture of equilibria caused by the Syracusan attack on Elba and Corsica is
reflected in the Athenian presence in the northern Tyrrhenian, documented by the
influx of Attic pottery in this area. The general decline in the number of imports also
has its origins in the changed domestic situation in Athens after the Persian War and
the transformations that marked both its productive activities, society and ruling
classes in Athens after 480/479. It does not seem a coincidence that the entire Tyrrhe-
nian Etruria, from Caere to Pisa, from Aléria to Chiusi and Orvieto, during the second
half of the fifth century, is totally excluded from the circulation of Athenian coins. The
only exception is the small hoard of tetradracmai of 450/440 found in the sanctuary
of Pyrgi and the isolated tetradracmai of Telamon and Chiusi. However it is true that
after 450, the decline in the importation of Attic pottery affects not only the centers
of the southern coastal sector, but also those of the Tiber district. Compared to these
areas, there is less recession in the northern area, in the mining district marked by
two poles of Aléria and Populonia and in the grain market of Pisa and in Arno Valley.14
A detailed census of Attic pottery in single cities is still lacking. Reconstructions
proposed to date are mainly based on John D. Beazley’s lists, which are partial and
in need of updates due to the discoveries and recoveries of the last fifty years, and
the appropriate integration with data on the number of black glazed pottery. Upon
11 Romualdi 2004, 183.

12 Briquel 2002, 265–70.
13 Bruni 1995, 236, footnote 80.
14 Martelli 1989, 781–812; Reusser 2000; Giudice 2008, 311–33. For Populonia see Romualdi 2004,
181–205; for Pisa: Bruni 2004a, 227–269; for the district of Volterra: Bruni 2009, 233–54; for Faesulae:
Bruni and Cagianelli 2009, 255–68.

an initial examination, it seems that the black glazed vases did not have particular
success, limited to a rather small number of specimens. The red-figure vases were
still quite widespread. The examination of various workshops shows that the vessels
of the atelier of the Eretria Painter were diffused in Veii, Caere, the Tolfa district,
Tarquinia, Vulci, Aléria, the area around Volterra (Ortaglia near Peccioli), Pisa, and
in the inner district of Orvieto and Chiusi, in addition to Falerii and Todi (Fig. 62.1).
Kylikes of the Kodros Painter arrive in Tarquinia, Vulci, Orvieto and its territory, Popu-
lonia, the district of Fiesole in the Arno Valley, the area around Lucca inland from
Pisa, Falerii and Todi. Vases by the Painter of Berlin 2536 also reached the territory
of Arezzo, as documented by the fragmentary specimen from Castiglione Fiorentino.
Vessels by the Marlay Painter are known in Tarquinia, Gravisca, Vulci, Orvieto, Chiusi
and its territory, Roselle, Populonia, the territory of Volterra (Ortaglia near Peccioli in
Val d’Era, San Martino ai Colli in Val d’Elsa), and in Fiesole. Skyphoi from the ergas-
terion, in which the Penelope Painter was active, are known in Tarquinia, Gravisca,
especially in Orvieto and Chiusi, where this shape appears to have had a remarkable
luck. An examination of the vessels referred to the Schuwalow Painter provides a
similar framework: they are represented in Caere, Tarquinia, the area around Viterbo,
Vulci, Populonia and in the ager Faliscus in Narce and Falerii. Beyond the quantita-
tive data, the distribution of the vessels of the mature classicism style marked by a
high quality is important. This includes the circle of Meidias and, more generally,
the pottery painters influenced by the decoration of the Parthenon. There are only a
few vases by the Meidias Painter present in Vulci, Orvieto and Populonia—all marked
by great individuality both in shape and in the painted images—while works by his
entourage are also known in Veii, Caere, Roselle and Pisa; kylikes forged by Erginos
and decorated by Aristophanes are attested in Tarquinia, Gravisca and Vulci.
The circuits of this emporia show Attic characteristics, even if in all likelihood
there was a simultaneous presence of emporoi and holkades from Sicily, as we can see
from the circulation of Sicilian coins in southern Etruria in the last decades of the fifth
century. Two such coins are small emilitrai found in Tarquinia, one minted by Himera
in 413 and the other issued by Agrigento in the years immediately preceding the con-
quest by Carthage in 406.15 Another component, for the end of the fifth and the first
decades of the fourth century, was the Campanian region, as we can see from some
significant materials, such as, for example, the silver fibula of Samnite type from the
Satie tomb of Vulci.16
The situation changes dramatically from the late fifth century, when on the entire
southern coastline, the importation of Attic pottery seems to stop, as confirmed by
the case of Tarquinia and Gravisca sanctuary. There the presence of Attic vases runs
out in the years around 400, since during the fourth century there are merely iso-
15 Catalli 1987, 26 nos. 63–4.

16 Città del Vaticano 1987, 136 no. 35.

1150 Stefano Bruni
Fig. 62.1: Distribution of the Attic red-figured pottery in Etruria, late 5th cent. BCE

Fig. 62.2: Distribution of Attic red-figured pottery in Etruria, 4th cent. BCE

1152 Stefano Bruni
lated black glazed pieces from the city and the sanctuary at the epineion. Only a rare
few pieces are known from Vulci in the fourth century, such as the kylix by the Jena
Painter, or a skyphos by the Fat Boy Group.
The situation in the northern district is truly different, in the coastal sector of the
mining center of Populonia, in the area of Pisa, in inland areas from Volterra to the
middle valley of the Arno River, to the Chiusi area. In northern Etruria, red-figure Attic
pottery is documented until the third quarter of the century, sometimes by pieces of
outstanding quality in Roselle, Vetulonia, Populonia, Elba, Aléria, Pisa and its terri-
tory (Bientina), Volterra and its territory (Ortaglia near Peccioli, Palaja in Val d’Era),
Fiesole and Chiusi.17 (Fig. 62.2) The highest concentration is in the mining district and
around the center at the mouth of the Arno River, but the wealth of findings of Ortag-
lia near Peccioli in Val d’Era suggest that the relative shortage of specimens should
be attributed more to a randomness of findings than to a real historical contingency.18
The fact that the area of Populonia has a high number of findings parallels the devel-
opment of the economic structures of the city. The strength of the city is indicated by
the movement of its coins, which reach Elba and Aléria, Vetulonia, Roselle and Tar-
quinia on the coast to the south, Chiusi and the interior region of Umbria (Valle Fuino
of Cascia), the area of Fiesole (Prato) and Pistoia (San Marcello) to the north, and
finally Prestino in the Lepontic territory near modern day Como and the far west of the
area around Tarragona, north of the mouth of the Ebro River in the Iberian peninsula.
5 Epilogue
The capture of Capua by Campanians in 423 and the allocation of the Samnites in
the Nolan and Picentinian countrysides mark the end of the Etruscans in Campania.
The disruptive effects of the arrival of the Gauls in the Po Valley and the subsequent
crushing of the system closes the era of the Etruscan control of that region. From that
time, the Etruscans were relegated to the districts of Mantua and Spina. The Etruscan
world is thus enclosed within the boundaries that will mark Etruria in the adminis-
trative division of the Augustan regiones. Rome was going to destroy Veii in 396, and
Syracuse was a threatening presence in the early decades of the fourth century—both
in the Tyrrhenian Sea (where Dionysius the Elder would plunder the sanctuary of
Pyrgi in 384) and in the Adriatic Sea (where he founded a series of coastal colonies
and phrouria from Adria to Ancona). Within the framework outlined by these events,
the political structure of the Etruscan world elaborates a profound transformation of
17 Arles 2000, and particularly 105- 110; Bruni 2004a, 254–56; Bruni 2009, 236–37; Bruni and
Cagianelli 2009, 256–57.
18 Bruni 2009.

social geography and geometry, which has different methods and timing in various
districts of the region. In Caere, there was a revival of tyrannical forms, as confirmed
by the figure of Orgonius. He was ousted by an expedition led by Aulus Spurinna from
Tarquinia, which is attested by a Latin inscription found near the Ara della Regina at
Tarquinia,19 while in other cities the oligarchic group maintained its position, even
if reshaping the political forms in a new and different relationship between city and
territory.
During the fourth century, other circuits appear between Tyrrhenian Etruria and
Magna Graecia, as documented by some rare Apulian red-figure and overpainted
pottery found in Pisa, Volterra, Populonia, Aléria, Chiusi, the district of Perugia
(Mandoleto), Sovana, and perhaps Vulci, Tarquinia, Tuscania, Caere and Falerii
(Fig. 62.3).20 There are also attestations of Apulian pottery from Spina, but they have
to be seen in connection with the problems of Syracusan expansionism in the Adri-
atic Sea and the politic attitude towards Taranto by the two Dionisii.21 The traffic of
pottery, however, is only one aspect of the trade, which also involves other categories
of objects, such as jewelry and gold for the various members of the oligarchy, and the
movement of metics and artisans, such as Apol(---)22 who, like Sokra(tes) in Falerii,
writes his name on the bottom of a small red-figure oinochoe from Caere of the late
fourth century.23 There was likely a Tarantinian influx in the figurative culture of Early
Hellenistic Etruria,24 which regards both the pictorial art, in megalography (see the
Tomb of the Garlands of Tarquinia25) and vase painting (see the vessels of the Hesse
Group26), architecture and sculpture, and jewelry production. The circulation of coins
from Magna Graecia has some exceptional specimens, like a bronze coin from Meta-
ponto in Tarquinia, or two didracmai from Taranto in Montefiascone, with a special
relationship with Neapolis and Campania in general.27
However, the late classical and early Hellenistic ages saw the reactivation of Etrus-
can emporia, with the spread of products from the workshops of Caere, Tarquinia,
Vulci and Populonia in the northwestern Mediterranean Sea. The Faliscan products
were sold in the same area, due to the alliance between Falerii and Tarquinia during
the years of the war between Tarquinia and Rome in 358–351.28
19 Torelli 1975, 39–40 and 70–72.

20 Bruni 2001b, 62.
21 Venezia 1999, 117–45.
22 To be understood as Apol(lodoros), Apol(lonios) or similar.
23 CVA Louvre 22, tav. 23. 9.
24 Ambrosini 2009, 128–31.
25 Harari 2010, 56–77.
26 Bruni 2007, 115–30.
27 Visonà 1984, 222–25.
28 Jolivet 1980; Pianu 1985.

1154 Stefano Bruni
Fig. 62.3: Distribution of red-figured pottery from southern Italic fabrics in central and northern Italy

In 299, the inhabitants of Delos were still forced to borrow five thousand drach-
mas of the temple treasury in order to protect themselves from Tyrrhenian pirates
(IG XI, 148, 73–74), whose actual provenance is uncertain. In the following years, the
progressive appear of Rome in Etruria will mark the beginning of the slow decline of
Tyrrhenian Etruria’s dynamism. Etruria, taking advantage of the consolidation of the
political axis between Rome and Marseille and its economic results for trade in the
second half of the century, will prosper during the early Hellenistic period, with wide
relationships and commercial circuits, in which there were components from Etruria
itself, the Faliscan area, Latium and Campania. In the Adriatic side, with the renewed
interest shown by Agathocles of Syracuse, after the African expeditions of 310–307,
there is a significant presence of some vessels from the Syracusan factories, mostly
affecting the network of local traffic. In the late fourth and early third centuries, it is
more difficult to understand the reason for the presence of some Messapic trozzelle
in Spina and Populonia.29 The intimate relationship of this shape with the Messapic
funeral ideology and with the female world are mute clues of relationships between
some Etruscan communities and the dynamic society of Messapia in the last three
decades of the fourth century and the first decades of the third, probably through
marriages. As the contours of the problem escape a more precise definition, it is not
a chance that the phenomenon can be seen in Spina and Populonia, the two main
poles of attraction for the international trafficking of two Etruscan seas, the Adriatic
and Tyrrhenian.
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IV. Civilization
Etruria and Rome

Fernando Gilotta
63 Art, 250–89 BCE
Abstract: This chapter deals with developments in Etruscan culture from the Middle Hellenistic
period to the final conquest of Etruria by the Romans. The long phase of artistic prosperity that lasted
until the first half of the third century appears fatally destined to break up with the progress of Roman
expansion, which gradually leads on the one hand to the total absorption of the major Etruscan
towns, and on the other to the conquest of Western Greek towns of the size of Taranto, essential part-
ners of the Etruscans in the artistic as well as in the religious and philosophical fields. On the specifi-
cally architectural side, traditional plans of Tuscanic or oikos type alternate in major temple buildings
with more advanced types, clearly inspired (second century) by scenographic models of Hellenistic
origin well known in Latium and central-Italic area. Sculptural monuments seem to proceed from a
classicizing language still inspired by Early Hellenistic features of Western Greek imprint (second half
of the third century) to an “Asianic” (mainly Pergamene) style, full of pathos, plasticity and intense
dynamism, spread throughout central Italy—with Rome as intermediary—in the first half of the
second century as a result of Roman expansion in Greece and the Eastern Mediterranean. In funerary
(once more, mainly Tarquinian) wall painting, the most frequent subjects are the journey in the Neth-
erworld and magistrates’ processions, where a great space is given to civic-social features, such as
commemorative inscriptions, or the visibility of the insignia of power: these magistrates’ processions
provide us with a “physical” picture of the last Etruscan urban aristocracy prior to Romanization.
After the middle of the third century, the secular tradition of funerary painting dies out in Etruria,
paralleled by gradual social and cultural destructuring of the country.
Keywords: Architecture, painting, sculpture, Hellenism, elites
1 Architecture
The long phase of prosperity that lasted until the first half of the third century appears
fatally destined to break up with the progress of Roman expansion, which gradually
leads on the one hand to the total absorption of the major Etruscan towns, and on
the other to the conquest of Western Greek towns of the size of Taranto, which were
essential partners of the Etruscans in the artistic as well as in the religious and philo-
sophical fields. A direct consequence of these major events is the drastic reduction of
building and artistic activity.
To the Middle Hellenistic period belong the two temples on the acropolis of Vol-
terra, housing cults similar to those of Dis Pater and Demetra. The rectangular Tus-
canic ground plan of the older one (B), dating to the third century, is divided into
pars antica and pars postica, with a triple row of four columns in front, and curiously
echoes Late Archaic models of the Caeretan area, suggested perhaps by the close ide-
ological-religious copying of the previous building (also Tuscanic) which rose close
by, or from a desire to follow “national” architectural tradition at a time when the
Roman threat was increasingly imminent. The more recent temple (A) on the other
hand, with its fairly elongated ground plan, two columns in front, compared to the
Fig. 63.1: Castelsecco (Arezzo), sanctuary, aerial view. Hellenistic period

(after Maetzke 1982–84, fig. 1)
temple of the Magna Mater on the Palatine in Rome, was built around the mid second
century, on the eve of total integration within the Roman sphere, and appears to
belong to a remodeling of the sanctuary inspired by Middle Hellenistic scenographic
Vorbilder, well-known in Latium.
The old oikos type is the model for the Hellenistic edifice (third century) of the
sanctuary at Poggio Casetta, outside the town of Bolsena. It has a simple rectangular
ground plan, with two pillars that appear to divide the back wall, and is arranged
inside a temenos in a manner that also has archaic forerunners in Etruria. Very recent
is the discovery, again at the Bolsena Lake, but on the southern shore, at Piana del
Lago, of a rustic sanctuary, with temenos provided with porticos, inside which were
probably two small sacred edifices with different orientations. One of these may pos-
sibly have had a cella with two alae, utilized at least from the fifth century to the
Hellenistic period. Still uncertain are the layout of the complex and the identity of
the cult or cults, but the typological-structural similarities with Poggio Casetta are
certain, as is the strategic value of the site, at the confluence of several communica-
tion routes between the territories of Orvieto, Vulci and Tarquinia.
In concluding this brief review, we must mention a structure that is exceptional
in Etruria for its typology and monumental status: the major extra-urban sanctuary

63 Art, 250–89 BCE 1163
at Castelsecco (Fig. 63.1), located on a hill that dominates the town of Arezzo from the
southeast. Dating to the Middle Hellenistic period and probably abandoned at the
time of Silla, it possesses a large terrace supported on the south side by a mighty and
scenographic retaining wall provided with buttresses. On the terrace stand a small
theatre building and the temple itself. In some ways they recall, even with the overall
autonomy of the layout, the major sanctuaries in Latium and central-Italic area; clay
ex-votos and an inscription discovered in the area seem to point to cults (of a popular
nature) of a deity of fecundity and childbirth and of Tin/Juppiter. The dimensions and
architectural details are well-suited to the flourishing economy of a town like Arezzo,
whose production and trading role experienced no decline with Roman expansion
and with the opening of new routes to northern Italy (Bologna) and toward Rome
itself.
As far as dwellings are concerned, we find most noteworthy domus with atria (but
perhaps without tablina) at Vetulonia, some of which feature rich architectural ter-
racottas (e.g. the so-called Casa di Medea). They were built during a period of immi-
nent Romanization in the Hellenistic area of Poggiarello Renzetti (late third–second
century), as well as at Costa Murata, and their ground plan, albeit conceived to adapt
to the impervious nature of the site, is not without comparison in the Roman-Pom-
peian milieu.
2 Sculpture
From the beginning to the middle of the third century, we can date a series of major
sculptural monuments – both votive and architectural – from the Etrusco-Latial area.
Compared to what we observed in the Scasato I cycle, these monuments appear to
mix experiments of Early Hellenism with classicizing traits to an increasing extent.
The main references of this artistic language can be once more found in contempo-
rary Greek sculpture. Among the better-known examples are the sima (?) with Diony-
siac reliefs from Caere, some of the terracotta statues of female deities from Ariccia
(Latium, Alban Hills), and minor objects like relief-vases or appliqués for cinerary
urns. These are linked to Dionysiac and Demetriac cults of unequivocal Greek and
Western Greek origin, which appear to have been responsible for introducing this type
of stylistic language into the Middle Tyrrhenian world.
Further north, between the first half of the third and the start of the second
century, a return to the practice of inhumation supports the spread of stone sar-
cophagi at Chiusi. Both the position of the deceased on the lid, and the subjects and
compositional arrangements of the figured reliefs decorating the box reveal inspira-
tion from southern models, especially from Tarquinia. It is probable that this can be
attributed to craftsmen from Tarquinia, who settled in northern Etruria in the early
decades of the third century, following the outright conquest of southern Etruria

Fig. 63.2a–b: Terracottas from the Catona Sanctuary (Arezzo). Hellenistic period. Arezzo,
Museo Archeologico Nazionale. (Photo SAT)
by Rome. The quality of the faces of the deceased – which incorporate nuances of
the best Early Hellenistic sculpture and portraiture – is fairly high in the specimens
datable up to the mid third century. Specimens from the following decades appear
to incorporate elements of a more sober and measured plasticity, to a certain extent
similar to what happened in southern Etruscan and Latial contexts. The Clusine sar-
cophagus of Thania Sentinati Cumerunia at the Louvre, which dates to the second
half of the third century, is undoubtedly of an exceptional quality. The dreaming mel-
ancholy in the face of the deceased and the vibrant surfaces, that in some ways can
be compared to the terracotta statue of the so-called Ariadne of Falerii, confirm the
syntony between southern and northern areas (particularly in the Tiber Valley axis)
of the Etrusco-Italic region and the still considerable creativity in the decades leading
to or immediately after the start of the Roman conquest.
These monuments end the age of Late Classical and Hellenistic koiné. Not until the
onset of the second century, after the end of the war with Hannibal, would a new cul-
tural crossroad arrive. This was triggered by the spread of works of art and craftsmen
throughout central Italy as a result of Roman expansion in Greece and Eastern Medi-
terranean. Thanks to Rome’s presence in the lands it had conquered (in the south), or
in some way under its control (in the north), the Hellenistic language that blossomed

63 Art, 250–89 BCE 1165
Fig. 63.3a–b: Terracottas from the Catona Sanctuary (Arezzo). Hellenistic period. Arezzo, Museo
Archeologico Nazionale. (Photo SAT)
in the courts of Asia Minor – first and foremost at Pergamon – pervaded Etruscan
full-relief and relief sculptures, destined for temples, private buildings, tombs, and
cinerary urns. Full of pathos, and made with remarkable plasticity, these sculptures
feature intense dynamism and facial features that suggest violent or sorrowful events
(whether mythical or not), in narrative contests of both public and private kinds.
Excellent examples are found in the now thoroughly studied cinerary urns from Vol-
terra, Chiusi, Perugia (see chapter 64 de Angelis), and in reliefs belonging to temple
pediments and friezes, as well as to houses, at Vulci, Sovana, Chianciano, Vetulonia,
Populonia, and again Volterra, to name only the main cities. These finds often feature
Dionysiac and other mythical themes, sometimes celebrating the origins of the town
itself, and are mostly datable to between the end of the third and the first two thirds
of the second century. Worthy of a special mention are the architectural terracottas
from the Catona cycle at Arezzo and those belonging to the pediment of the renewed
temple at Talamone, both dating to no later than the first half of the second century.
The former (Figs. 63.2–63.3) – their subject uncertain (maybe including a Judgment
of Paris?), but of exceptional quality – appear to contain traces of the best coroplas-
tic traditions of the third century, together with new hints from Middle Hellenism of
Asianic origin. The latter, with their pictorial and theatrical (Seven Against Thebes)

features now fully in line with contemporary Middle Hellenistic canons, celebrate a
“righteous destiny” and condemn hybris, perhaps in the new atmosphere of coastal
Vulci territory under Roman control.
Metaphorically closing this section, we must mention the Arringatore, a prestig-
ious votive and honorary bronze statue discovered in the area of Cortona, portraying
the nobleman Aule Meteli – with a dedicatory inscription on the toga to the god Tece
Sanś – whose problematic portrait appears to be in syntony with Etruscan and Late
Republican Roman sculptural developments that cannot be dated earlier than the
second half of the second century.
After this time, a largely Romanized Etruscan society no longer provided out-
standing clients and was no longer capable of producing major monuments in the
wake of its own varying regional plastic traditions.
3 Painting
In view of the controversies about absolute chronology relating to tombs of the end
of the fourth-third centuries, we shall here take all Hellenistic monuments together,
thus avoiding the “rule” of chronological divisions which could appear over-precise.
Debate on this subject has been quite heated over the past few decades, but has now
led to a more solid definition of the evidence for the period, thanks to a wider range
of cultural references, both inside (sarcophagi and their epigraphic apparatus, con-
temporary painted pottery) and outside (Macedonian painting) the Etruscan world.
Let us, however, take a closer look, starting from the “containers” of the paint-
ings. During this period, chamber tombs tend to lose the double pitched roof so char-
acteristic of previous phases, in favor of a flat roof. The funerary chambers are bor-
dered with benches and sarcophagi for depositing the deceased. Paintings decorate
not only the walls, but also the benches, sarcophagi, ceilings and pillars. Frequent too
are friezes – both long and short – with small-dimension figures or ornamentation,
while the differentiation of the location and size of the paintings often points to a dif-
ferentiation in compositional vocabulary and drawing tools. The most frequent sub-
jects are some of the themes widely established during the fourth century: first and
foremost the journey to the Netherworld and the magistrates’ processions, although
the scenes now evidence numerous novel elements and greater space is given to
“civic-social” features, such as commemorative inscriptions, or the visibility of the
insignia of power.
At the top of the series of Hellenistic tombs we may consider the Giglioli Tomb
at Tarquinia, dated to about 300, its walls dominated by a great frieze of weapons.
Its solid perspective is achieved by the skilful use of thickening or overlapping and
the graded veiling of color, which provides plasticity, brilliance, light and shade to
the objects: highly effective, in particular, is the rendering of the bronze cuirass and

63 Art, 250–89 BCE 1167
Fig. 63.4: Cerveteri, Tomba dei Rilievi. Late fourth century.

(Photo DAI Rome)
Thracian helmets. The weapons, as well as the emblems of power, depicted in this
extraordinary display, in some way constitute an ideological manifesto of the family
owning the tomb and of the whole late-Etruscan aristocracy. Judging from the epise-
mata of the shields depicted, which match those on contemporary coins of Tarquinia,
we might be led to infer that the owners of the tomb were indeed directly involved in
“public” initiatives of this major Etruscan town, perhaps even in the frequent clashes
of the period with Roman military might. Hints of a similar use of weapon friezes in
funerary contexts with strong aristocratic connotations are already in the Tomba dei
Rilievi (Tomb of the Reliefs: Fig. 63.4) at Caere (second half of the fourth century: see
chapter 57 Gilotta), the other major southern Etruscan town, in which the weapons
accompany the portrayal of furnishings, objects of ceremonial and daily use suited
to the eminent members of a wealthy gens. Significant possibilities of comparison
for the subject in different contexts – albeit of the same level of acculturation and
social organization, such as southern Italy, Macedonia and northern Greece – lead us
to suspect that also in this specific field of funerary ideology Etruscan clients largely
participated in the formal and ideological koiné penetrating the Hellenized aristocra-
cies of the central and eastern Mediterranean.
Between the end of the fourth and the mid third centuries, in the period imme-
diately preceding and accompanying the Roman conquest of southern Etruria, many
painted Tarquinian tombs stand out for representing – sometimes in an absolutely

Fig. 63.5: Tarquinia, Tomba del Convegno: procession of togati. First half of the third century
(photo † G. Bellucci)
dominating position within the funerary chamber – friezes with magistrates’ proces-
sions aimed at celebrating the rank and high public office of the deceased. Often por-
trayed in tunic and toga, and accompanied by bearers of insignia and musicians, the
magistrates are seen in the context of a still independent civic life. The processions,
frequently accompanied by inscriptions bearing names and/or explanations, while
evidently based on the customs of everyday life, never manage to become historical
in any real sense (i.e. with references to specific events in the life of the deceased).
Instead, the scenes maintain what we may describe as a figurative apotheosis – of a
magisterial, familial and funerary nature all at once – as also shown by the occasional
insertion of funerary daemons among the participants (e.g., Bruschi Tomb, Tomb of
the Typhon). The most ancient of these tombs – the Bruschi Tomb and the Tomba
del Convegno (probably beginning of the third century) – follow the line of experi-
ments already substantially found in wall- and vase-painting of the last decades of
the fourth century, owing both to the presence of single antiquarian details and to
the use of color, as well as for the sound pictorial technique used for the features of
the various characters. The Tomba del Convegno (Fig. 63.5; Colour plates 42–47) is
especially rich in detail in its procession scenes, which are displayed on the left and
back walls. These appear to exalt the magisterial role of the personage commemo-
rated – who achieved the important office, perhaps exceeding the circle of a single
town, of zilaχ ceχaneri (see chapter 9 Tagliamonte) – by representing apparitores

63 Art, 250–89 BCE 1169
bearing insignia of power such as fasces, double-axes, spears, perhaps even suggest-
ing that the protagonist took an important part in the military enterprises that would
lead to the Etruscan town’s falling under Roman control. The Tomb of the Typhon
(Colour plate 48) is decorated with similar subjects, and may be only slightly more
recent, as shown by a cross-comparison with specimens of Greek Early Hellenistic art
and a comparison with other painted Tarquinian tombs (e.g. the Tomb of Festoons),
which have already (and with greater certainty) been dated to the beginning of the
third century (cf., e.g., the Typhon on the pillar with the Charun beside the entrance
in the Tomb of the Festoons, both Etruscan interpretations of a still substantially
Early Hellenistic pictorial technique). The pictorial texture of the figures employed in
these thronged processions, thin and wholly wrapped in wide garments with sparse
and linear folds, does not seem to derive from any Roman historical-triumphal picto-
rial language, as has been suggested, but appears, yet again, to follow the develop-
ments of painting and vase-painting in Greece, Magna Graecia and Etruria itself. At
the same time, it satisfies the formal and rhythmic requirements of a celebratory rep-
ertory, involving all the Hellenized elites of the Mediterranean, and focusing on the
ritual cadences of crowded processions, triumphs, and apotheoses, for either family
or funerary purposes.
Beside the magistrates’ processions – which provide us with a “physical” picture
of the last Etruscan urban aristocracy prior to Romanization, the painted tombs
display widespread familiarity with developments in Hellenistic painting. Miniature
decorations, like those of the lacunars on the ceiling of the Tomb of the Festoons,
with marine creatures and putti on a dark background, are sophisticated expressions
of genre painting and of a pittura a macchia, whose best antecedents are found in
Macedonian and Tarantine specimens, and seem comparable to the frieze with battle
scenes on the capital of the pillar in the Tomb of the Cardinal. No less valuable are the
contemporary, but technically different, pictorial documents in several tombs with
funerary chambers on two levels. To the sides of the entrance door of the Anina Tomb
and the Tomb of Charuns, for example, we find male and female daemons (Charun
or Vanth) who accompany the deceased and act as authoritative custodians of the
passageways in the journey to the Netherworld. They are characterized by great dyna-
mism, thanks to a skillful and rapid use of brush-strokes in rendering hair and disar-
rayed garments and the addition of white to indicate areas more exposed to light.
Here too, sound terms of comparison are found in the wall paintings, cyst-tombs, and
painted klinai of the Macedonian area, confirming the high degree of technical inno-
vation achieved by Etruscan craftsmen.
Among the later tomb paintings – perhaps the very last prior to definitive cul-
tural assimilation by the Roman world – we should point out those of the Tomb
Querciola II and Tomb 5636, both of which were found at Tarquinia and date to
the mid/third quarter of the third century. In an extremely simplified style, we find
scenes of farewell and meeting before the gates of Hades, portrayed almost like city
gates –closed, with a fully-rounded arch and details of both wings – presided over

yet again by an infernal daemon (Charun). After this, the secular tradition of funer-
ary painting dies out in Etruria, paralleled by gradual social and cultural destruc-
turing of the country.
Select bibliography
Up-to-date (1992) bibliography on architecture, sculpture, and painting, including all the basic
reference books and articles: Colonna 1994.
On architecture
Maggiani 1994; Quilici and Quilici Gigli 2000; Bonamici 2003; Colonna 2006 (with rich bibl.); D’Atri
2006; Steingräber 2006b; Città murata 2008; Maggiani 2008; Pellegrini and Rafanelli 2008; Torelli
and Fiorini 2008; Camporeale and Firpo 2009; Albers 2010; Barbieri et al. 2010; L’Etrurie et l’Ombrie
2010; Häuser 2010; Material Aspects 2010; Stopponi 2011; Volumni 2011.
On terracotta sculpture
Cicli figurativi 1993; Gaultier 1998; Gilotta 2002; Deliciae fictiles 2006; Deliciae fictiles 2011.
On sarcophagi
Colonna 1993; Gentili 1997 (with up-to-date bibl.); van der Meer 2004.
On stone and bronze sculpture

Scala 2003a, 2003b; Maggiani 2004; Papini 2004; Bonamici 2005; Moretti Sgubini 2008;
Camporeale and Firpo 2009.
On wall painting
Brecoulaki 2001; Gilotta 2000; Serra Ridgway 2003; Steingräber 2006a (with rich bibl); Descamps-
Lequime 2007; Gilotta 2007; Pittura ellenistica 2007; Vincenti 2009; AIPMA 2010; Pittura ellenistica
2011.
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—. 2011. Pittura ellenistica in Italia e in Sicilia. Linguaggi e tradizioni, Atti del Convegno di Studi.
Messina, 24–25.9.2009, edited by G.F. La Torre and M. Torelli. Rome: Giorgio Bretschneider.
Quilici, L., and S. Quilici Gigli, eds. 2000. Fortificazioni antiche in Italia. Atlante Tematico di
Topografia Antica 9. Rome: L’Erma di Bretschneider.
Scala, N. 2003a. “Le botteghe lapidarie di Tarquinia in età ellenistica.” In Miscellanea etrusco-
italica 3, edited by A. Maggiani, 171–208. Rome: CNR.
—. 2003b. “Materiali scultorei volsiniesi e vulcenti di età ellenistica.” AnnMuseoFaina 10: 191–203.
Serra Ridgway, F.R. 2003. “L’ultima pittura etrusca. Stile, cronologia, ideologia.” Orizzonti 4: 11–22.
Steingräber, S. 2006a. Abundance of Life. Etruscan Wall Painting. Los Angeles: The J. Paul Getty
Museum.
—. 2006b. “Figürlicher architektonischer Fassadenschmuck in Etrurien und sein Nachleben bis in
die Moderne.” In Italo-Tusco-Romana. Festschrift für Luciana Aigner Foresti zum 70. Geburtstag,
edited by P. Amann, M. Pedrazzi, H. Taeuber, 335–40. Vienna: Holzhausen.
Stopponi, S. 2011. “Campo della Fiera at Orvieto: New Discoveries”. In The Archaeology of
Sanctuaries and Ritual in Etruria, edited by N. Thomson De Grummond and I. Edlund-Berry,
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Torelli, M., and L. Fiorini. 2008. “Le indagini dell’Università degli Studi di Perugia nella Vigna Marini-
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Vincenti, V. 2009. La Tomba Bruschi di Tarquinia. Rome: Giorgio Bretschneider.
Volumni. 2011. L’ipogeo dei Volumni. 170 anni dalla scoperta. Atti del convegno, Perugia 2010,
edited by L. Cenciaioli. Perugia: Fabrizio Fabbri Editore.

Abstract: Etruscan handicraft in the middle and late Hellenistic age is commonly–if mostly implic-
itly–perceived in terms of decline. Indeed, several classes of artifacts typical of the production of the
late Classical and the early Hellenistic periods either ceased to be made or experienced dramatic
decreases in quality during this age. Whether one considers wall paintings in tombs, the stone sar-
cophagi of southern Etruria, engraved bronze mirrors, bronze candelabra and incense-burners,
red-figure vases, the “silvered” vases from Volsinii or the black-gloss Malacena ware from Volterra,
the discrepancy—and sometimes the radical contrast—between the vitality and variety of the fourth
and early third century and the monotony from the mid third century on is blatant. While the data
on which such a picture is based are largely correct, the picture itself is incomplete and therefore
potentially misleading in more than one respect. The most obvious dimension to consider alongside
interruption and break is that of continuity and duration. All productions were not discontinued
and qualitative decline was not a universal phenomenon: witness bronze sculpture or architectural
coroplastics. Nor should one downplay the role of innovation. New classes of objects as well as new
shapes and themes came up precisely during the middle to late Hellenistic age. The development
of late Etruscan handicraft is not a unilateral phenomenon. It comprises different factors that vary
according to local conditions. An adequate picture needs to take this multiplicity into account.
Keywords: Votive objects; coroplastics; statuettes; cinerary urns; sarcophagi
Introduction
Etruscan handicraft in the middle and late Hellenistic age is commonly—if mostly
implicitly—perceived in terms of decline. Indeed, several classes of artifacts typical
of the production of the late Classical and the early Hellenistic periods either ceased
to be made or experienced dramatic decreases in quality during this age. Whether
one considers wall paintings in tombs, the stone sarcophagi of southern Etruria,
engraved bronze mirrors, bronze candelabra and incense-burners, red-figure vases,
the “silvered” vases from Volsinii or the black-gloss Malacena ware from Volterra,
the discrepancy—and sometimes the radical contrast—between the vitality and
variety of the fourth and early third century BCE and the monotony from the mid
third century on is blatant. While the data on which such a picture is based are
largely correct, the picture itself is incomplete and therefore potentially mislead-
ing in more than one respect. The most obvious dimension to consider alongside
interruption and break is that of continuity and duration. All productions were not
discontinued and qualitative decline was not a universal phenomenon: witness
bronze sculpture or architectural coroplastics. Nor should one downplay the role of
innovation. New classes of objects as well as new shapes and themes came up pre-
cisely during the middle to late Hellenistic age. The development of late Etruscan
handicraft is not a unilateral phenomenon. It comprises different factors that vary
1174 Francesco de Angelis
according to local conditions. An adequate picture needs to take this multiplicity

into account.1
As with all other spheres of Etruscan society and culture of this time, the features
of craftsman production can only be properly understood and assessed by giving
due weight to Etruria’s relationship with Rome.2 The role of Rome manifested itself
in a variety of ways. Some were spectacularly disruptive, and others were less so, but
were more pervasive and durable. For example, an event like the capture and destruc-
tion of Volsinii in 264 BCE certainly affected handicraft in more than one way. On a
very basic level, it entailed a massive relocation of artifacts, as suggested by Pliny the
Elder’s reference to the 2,000 bronze statues that were brought to Rome as part of the
booty (Plin. HN 34.34). Moreover, it caused a diaspora of artisans and a reconfigu-
ration of their workshops. Quite significantly, C. Lapius—a second-century artisan
probably of Volsinian descent and the maker of mold-made relief vases belonging to
the category of the so-called Italo-Megarian ware (which was produced and sold in
Etruria and elsewhere in central Italy)—signed several of his products in Latin and
only occasionally added the Etruscan version of his name, Lapie.3 Finally, and corre-
spondingly, the catastrophe that befell the city altered the social fabric that underlay
patronage and customership patterns. It is not coincidental that production of objects
such as mirrors, which had traditionally played an important role in shaping social
relationships in Volsinii, experienced a radical rupture with the resettlement to the
new center of Volsinii Novi.4
As dramatic as events like the destruction of entire cities might have been,
however, one should not overestimate their relevance. Even in the case just men-
tioned it is possible to find clear instances of continuity. For example, the Bacchic
terracotta throne as well as the vessels and tiles bearing the stamp of Avle (?) Fufluns
found at Volsinii Novi suggest that the relocation of coroplastic and ceramic work-
shops did not affect production in only a negative way.5 Consequently, the general
conditions created by Rome’s expansion—not only in Etruria itself but also, more gen-
erally, in Italy and the Mediterranean basin, particularly after the Hannibalic wars
in the late third century—are just as important as these ultimately episodic events in
order to understand the development of handicraft in late Etruscan history.6 Rome’s
conquests led to the establishment of new and broader commercial and cultural net-
1 No study of Etruscan handicraft focused solely on the period under consideration exists to date.
On late Etruscan handicraft in general, see Maggiani 1985; Ambrosini 2011 (with extensive literature).
2 General historical background: Harris 1971.
3 C. Lapius/ Lapie: Benelli 1994, 29–31 nos. 26–27. On Italo-Megarian ware, see Puppo 1995 (33–39 on
Lapius).
4 See, e.g., Ambrosini 1996.
5 Throne of Bolsena: Massa-Pairault 1980, 1981, 1986; Cazanove 2000. Tiles and pottery with makers’
marks: Colonna 1985a, 128–129 n. 109; Massa-Pairault 1985; Jolivet 2008, 346–8; Di Giuseppe 2012, 91.
6 See Morel 1990a; 1990b.

works, with wide-ranging implications for handicraft. The absence of developments

carries as much weight as their actual occurrence. For example, the fact that on the
whole, the Etruscan ceramic industry—as opposed to the Neapolitan producers of the
widely exported Campanian A ware, or the ceramic workshops of Cales—did not take
advantage of this new situation and modify the organization of workshop production
to expand its outreach is no less meaningful than its reception of formal and typologi-
cal innovations at the turn of the third century.7 On the other hand, the varying nature
and intensity of Rome’s role in Etruria—through the destruction of cities, the foun-
dation of colonies, and the occupation of the ager and establishment of alliances—
created different local conditions that were roughly dependent on the degree of prox-
imity to the Urbs. In particular, distinctions between southern and northern Etruria
were further emphasized and acquired a new character thanks to the new political
situation and the different typologies of power relationship it entailed.
1 Southern Etruria
The developments in the south, where Rome’s presence was particularly palpable,
did not always entail the disappearance of workshops or a lower output of artifacts.
On the contrary, in many cases the volume of production increased or stayed the
same. Occasionally, the Roman presence might have even boosted local handicraft,
as suggested by the case of the temple of Talamone, whose remarkable architectural
decoration was due to the same workshops operating in the nearby Latin colony of
Cosa.8 Even in those instances where discontinuity is indeed attested, production did
not always come to an immediate halt. Thus, bronze incense-burners continued to be
made in Tarquinia, albeit in simplified form (the so-called “Curunas type”), at least
until the beginning of the second century.9 Finally, one should not underestimate the
role of euergetism. Even under modified circumstances, public construction contin-
ued to be an important catalyst for specialized workshops, such as the one that pro-
duced the mosaic floor bearing the names of the patrons Avle Alethnas and Luvce
Hulchnies in the late second-century baths of Musarna—significantly, a recent archi-
tectural typology that was becoming increasingly popular in Rome-dominated Italy.10
7 Morel 1981; 1986; Pedroni 1986–1990; 2001; Cibecchini and Principal 2004; Roth 2007; Di Giuseppe
2012.
8 Cosa: Brown, Richardson, and Richardson 1960; 1993; Scott 1992; see now Taylor 2002. On
Talamone, see infra, n. 27.
9 Ambrosini 2002.
10 Baths of Musarna: Broise and Jolivet 2004 (101–105 for the mosaic). See also the coeval baths of
the House of the Cryptoporticus in nearby Vulci: Carandini 1985, 64–73 (G. Gazzetti et al.); Broise and
Jolivet 2004, 101–105.

In many cases, the main change concerns the increasing divide between the
higher and lower ends of the qualitative spectrum. High-quality products seem to
occur more sporadically than in the past. They thus do not create a critical mass or
represent any more a term of reference for the broader output. As a consequence,
not only is the overall rate of innovation and change quite low, but local production
can yield to imports from outside. For instance, black-gloss ware is often imported
from northern Etruria and Campania in the second century, and many of the Italo-
Megarian vessels found in Etruria can be attributed to workshops based elsewhere,
such as those of C. Popilius in Umbria.11 Moreover, wherever specifically Etruscan
production is attested, it is strongly localized. Workshops cater almost exclusively to
local needs and markets. Circulation of locally produced objects, forms and shapes
is attested among minor centers, as well as between them and the main center, but it
rarely trespasses the territory of the main center itself.
A good example of this situation is provided by the production of votive objects.
Not all of them are standardized or of low quality. Several of the terracotta objects from
the votive deposit of the Northern Gate in Vulci, bronze statuettes like the Fufluns/Dio-
nysos from Vulci, now in the Vatican, and a bronze club, probably from Caere, dedi-
cated to Hercle/Herakles by Tite Utaves (significantly, a freedman, perhaps of north-
ern Etruscan descent), are all instances testifying to the contrary.12 But these cases are
not widespread and have little echo in more popular local productions, which instead
follow their own dynamics and display characteristically southern Etruscan features.
Typical offerings for the gods in southern sanctuaries consist of mold-made terracotta
artifacts, whose typologies are often connected with the sphere of healing and repro-
duction. Human statuettes and heads, babies in swaddling clothes, animal figurines,
and especially polyvisceral and anatomical votives representing parts of the human
body (hands, feet, legs, breasts, male genitals, uteri, eyes, ears, fingers, hearts). None
of these features is an innovation of the late Hellenistic period. In fact, they belong
to a tradition that ultimately dates back to the late Archaic age and acquires its per-
manent features in the fourth century, so that it is well entrenched by the time the
Etruscan cities lose their independence. Nor are these votives exclusively Etruscan.
From early on they partake of a wider cultic koine—and a craftsman tradition—that
comprises Latium and Campania as well. In other words, these votives do not simply
testify to the resilience that is typical of the religious sphere, but also remind us that
11 Black-gloss imports: see, in addition to Roth 2007 and Di Giuseppe 2012, Patterson, Di Giuseppe,
and Wichter 2004, 13–17; Di Giuseppe 2005. Vases by C. Popilius: Puppo 1995, 39–52; Sisani 2007, 159,
175.
12 Votive deposit from the Northern gate of Vulci: Pautasso 1994; see also Moretti Sgubini 2001, 182
(S. Costantini). Fufluns from Vulci: Sannibale 2006, 133–45. Club for Hercle: Colonna 1989–1990, 894–
98; Cristofani 2000, 414–16.

the geographical location of cities like Caere, Tarquinii, and Vulci (not to mention
Veii) had been a relevant factor for handicraft already before the Roman conquest.13
This observation is less obvious than it may at first sound. What these phenomena
of continuity suggest is that traditional basic patterns persist well into the late Hellen-
istic period despite the new circumstances, to the extent that some of the main politi-
cal changes would pass almost unnoticed based on the evidence of votive handicraft
alone. The intensification of the Roman presence through colonization and appropri-
ation of portions of the ager in southern Etruscan cities did not translate into a drastic
modification of local votive practices on the popular level, in contrast with what hap-
pened in other regions of Italy, where the diffusion of serially made terracotta dedica-
tions, and of the corresponding workshops, is by itself a marker of Romanization for
modern scholars.14 The adjustments that the new situation required from the artisans
were minimal. Among the few examples there is the representation of male figures
with veiled head, Romano ritu, rather than bareheaded. As crucial as this detail is
in regard to ritual, it only requires a technically and visually slight change. In many
instances, the veil is not really represented but only alluded to in a rather abstract
way through an extended rim around the head. Moreover, veiled and unveiled heads
coexist in the same sanctuaries, albeit with varying ratios, and are made in the same
workshops.15 In this domain at least, the Roman conquest apparently did not affect
the production or the organization of craftsman labor in any significant way.
At the same time, this continuity is also characterized by a lack of innovation and
repetitiveness. This has less to do with the serial character of late Etruscan handicraft
per se, since the use of molds had been a typical feature of the production of votive
objects in southern Etruria already in the Classical period. The point is rather that
after the early third century very few new archetypes were created, and most objects
were the outcome of second- and third-generation molds, i.e. molds that were pro-
duced using the previous mold-made artifacts as prototypes. This procedure inevita-
bly led to a degradation of the formal traits of the objects, as well as to a steady reduc-
tion of their size, as can be seen in a paradigmatic way with the votive heads from the
rural sanctuary of Tessennano, near Tuscania.16
Comparable trends can be observed in other realms as well, such as the funerary
sphere. The sepulchral markers of a city like Caere in the period under consideration
are quite inconspicuous, as they mostly consist of plain columnar or roughly house-
shaped cippi.17 Similarly, the production of decorated stone sarcophagi and of painted
13 Comella 1981; ThesCRA 1 (2004), 330–48 s.v. “Offerte in forma di figura umana” (A. Comella), and
359–68 s.v. “Anatomical Votives” (J.M. Turfa); Comella 2005; Gentili 2005; Nagy 2013; Recke 2013.
14 See, e.g., Cazanove 2000.
15 Söderlind 2005.
16 Söderlind 2002. For some exceptions, see Papini 2004, 271–73.
17 Blumhofer 1993.

Fig. 64.1: Terracotta sarcophagus from Tuscania, detail.

Tarquinia, Museo Archeologico
tombs that had characterized the burials of the members of the elite in Tarquinia dies
out soon after the second half of the third century. Interestingly, it is the workshops
of terracotta sarcophagi in a center of the Tarquinian territory such as Tuscania that
continue to thrive into the second century (Fig. 64.1), attesting to the increased vis-
ibility of the countryside and the role of the upper members of local societies as sup-
porters of handicraft.18 Tellingly, however, these monuments are serially made—in
fact, there are clear links with the production of votive artifacts—and conform to few
standard types. Except for some early examples of individually rendered portraits,
there is no significant interest in variation or innovation. The production processes
and techniques of the workshops evidently echo the patrons’ wish to demonstrate
status through adherence to shared ideals rather than competitive distinction. A mon-
ument like the one featuring Adonis reclining on his death-bed found in a tomb of
Tuscania and now in the Vatican is exceptional, both in its technique (modeled alla
stecca rather than mold-made) and its typology, for which there are no parallels in the
area—or elsewhere, for that matter.19
18 Gentili 1994; Maggiani 1995; Papini 2004, 329–33.

19 Sannibale 1994, 185–91; 2008; 2009.

2 Northern Etruria
In the northern centers, which maintain a higher degree of internal autonomy and
more lively social dynamics, the situation looks quite different. Traditional strengths
continue to be cultivated at the same time as new typologies arise. The production of
bronze votives, for example, testifies to the ongoing importance of metalworking, for
which centers like Arretium had been famous long before the mid-Hellenistic period.
Besides several smaller figurines, sanctuaries witness the dedication of medium-
sized pieces, such as the child statue from Montecchio, near Cortona, now in Leiden
(the “Putto Corazzi”), or the one from a sanctuary on the northern shore of the Lake
Trasimene, and now in the Vatican (the “Putto Graziani”: Fig. 18.9).20 Moreover, the
life-size statue of Avle Meteli, the “Arringatore” (Fig. 64.2), suggests that the work-
shop traditions that had produced the Chimaera and the Minerva of Arezzo in the late
Classical and early Hellenistic periods did not experience major breaks during the
following century. The mention of the local community as dedicator in its inscription
underscores the role of civic patronage for the flourishing of these traditions.21 (Nor
should one overlook categories of metal objects belonging to different contexts, such
as the bronze-sheet flasks that are typical of Clusium).22 The contrast with southern
Etruria is all the more apparent, as it cannot be simply explained in terms of technical
specificities. The production of bronze artifacts notoriously shares several basic steps
with the terracotta one. Furthermore, terracotta votives such as heads were produced
in northern Etruria as well; as the examples of the votive deposit from the Via della
Società Operaia in Arretium show, they do not copy old prototypes but are in line with
contemporary stylistic trends—the same ones that can be detected in local architec-
tural coroplastics.23
The funerary sphere in northern Etruria, which contrasts most strikingly with the
situation in the south, provides the best instance of the rise of new typologies of arti-
facts. It is particularly the cinerary urns of Clusium, Volaterrae, and Perusia that attest
to the vitality of Etruscan handicraft in the third and second centuries in the eyes of
modern scholars (Fig. 64.3).24 The monuments produced in each of these centers are
characterized by their own peculiar features as regards material, typology and style,
as well as iconography and thematic choices. These features make them immediately
20 Figurines: Bentz 1992. “Putto Corazzi”: Cristofani 1985, 299–300 no. 128. “Putto Graziani”:
Cagianelli 1999, 120–34 no. 3. See also Cagianelli 2005, 297–98, 299. On the tradition of votive bronzes
in Etruria, see most recently Scarpellini 2013.
21 Arringatore: Dohrn 1968; Cristofani 1985, 300 no. 129; Colonna 1990; Papini 2004, 335–43.
22 Maggiani 1985, 148–52 (G.C. Cianferoni).
23 Objects from the Via della Società Operaia: Colonna 1985b, 179-185; Papini 2004, 268–71. Arretine
coroplastics: see, e.g., Maggiani 1985, 381–84 (P. Bocci Pacini); Ducci 1987–1988; 1992.
24 Urns: Brunn and Körte 1870–1916; CUE 1–2.3 (1975–2012); Martelli and Cristofani 1977; Maggiani
1985, 33–122; Steuernagel 1998; Cenciaioli 2011; Cifani 2015; de Angelis 2015.

Fig. 64.2: Bronze statue of Avle Meteli

(“Arringatore”), detail. Florence,
National Archaeological Museum
identifiable and attributable to one of the three centers, even when the archaeological
provenance is unknown. Alongside these specifically local traits, however, there also
are overarching features connecting the monuments from all three cities, both with
each other and with centers elsewhere in Italy and the Mediterranean. The affinities
among urns are such that not only is it evident that artisans were well aware of what
their colleagues in the neighboring cities were doing, but in some cases it is possible
to argue for the existence of traveling sculptors and even surmise the establishment of
local workshops in the wake of their travels. These relationships between workshops
operating in the main centers differ from the ones attested in the south, where, as said
above, the connections seldom go beyond the boundaries of one city’s territory.25 Sty-
listically, the urns conform to the generally attested trends of Hellenistic art. Scholars
have especially pointed to the pathos and dynamism that is usually associated with
Pergamon and have even postulated a role for artists coming from the Greek East in
the renovation of the formal language of the Volterran urns in the first decades of
25 Connections among urn workshops: see, e.g., Maggiani 1989; 2011.

Fig. 64.3: Alabaster cinerary urn from Volterra. Volterra, Museo

Guarnacci
the second century. Further relationships can be traced between Tarentine limestone
sculpture and the urns of the second half of the third century from Clusium.26
Quite significantly, the production of the urns implies a constant and active dia-
logue with other craftsman traditions, especially with coroplastics. The best example
is provided by the relationship between the scenes of the Seven against Thebes as
represented on the pediment of the temple of Talamone (Fig. 64.4) and on a series of
urns from Volaterrae, Perusia, and Clusium (Fig. 64.5). Without copying each other
directly, they clearly belong to the same iconographic tradition and come up with
26 Massa-Pairault 1972; 1973; 1975; Maggiani 1976a; 1976b; de Angelis 2015, 147–48.

Figs. 64.4a–b: Pediment of the temple of Talamone, picture and diagram. Orbetello, Museo Civico
original adaptations of the same basic scene using similar principles.27 Further exam-
ples of parallels between the imagery of the urns and architectural decoration lead us
even farther south, for example to Campania. The goddess accompanied by a dog on
a terracotta frieze from Pompeii is remarkably similar to figures attested on the urns.28
27 Talamone and urns: Freytag-Löringhoff 1986; de Angelis 2015, 65–79.

28 Bonfante 2009.

Fig. 64.5: Alabaster cinerary urn from Chiusi with scene of the Seven against
Thebes. Chiusi, National Archaeological Museum
In other words, even though tightly connected to the northern Etruscan centers where
they are located, the workshops producing urns are not at all isolated but participate
in the life of broader artistic milieus.
A further characteristic of the urn production is its relatively high artistic and cul-
tural level. In several instances, the stylistic features are so distinctive that they have
led scholars to identify workshops and even individual masters.29 Not coincidentally,
some of the urns include self-representations of the artisans.30 Usually, however, the
chests of the urns are decorated with figural scenes that are either mythological or
have strong eschatological undertones; decorative and symbolic motifs are also wide-
spread. The choice of mythological themes, which is related to the need to express
societal values and emotions that are relevant in the funerary context, is remark-
ably rich. Even though the iconography of each mythological episode is relatively
constant, no single version of a given scene is perfectly identical to any other one.
The artisans evidently did not feel bound to copying a template exactly, but experi-
mented and innovated with a certain degree of freedom. In some cases, an innovation
might become permanent and give rise to a new branch of the tradition. The variants
29 See the works by Massa-Pairault and Maggiani mentioned supra, footnote 26.
30 Maggiani 1985, 26–28 nos. 1–3.

Fig. 64.6: Terracotta cinerary urn from Chiusi. Cortona, Museo

dell'Accademia Etrusca
thus created are primarily visual, but they can have narrative implications—which
suggests a high degree of familiarity with Greek mythology by the artisans.31 As in
previous centuries in Etruria, this familiarity does not come with reverential respect
towards allegedly canonical versions of the myth and can produce peculiar results.
This does not mean that the urns should be understood only in terms of inno-
vation and variety. The degree of standardization and uniformity can be quite high,
especially when it comes to images that are devoid of mythological content, such as
the travel or farewell scenes on Volterran urns, which repeat the same imagery with
very little variation and are not by chance more often attested on the less expensive
tufa exemplars.32 The most striking case in this respect is that of Clusium. After the
third-century boom of the—mostly mythological—alabaster urns, the bulk of the pro-
duction in the second century is represented by quite plain travertine urns, decorated
with a restricted number of simple motifs, and by mold-made painted terracotta urns
(Fig. 64.6). Unsurprisingly, the latter are typically used by members of the lower strata
31 See de Angelis 2015, 79–102.

32 Cristofani Martelli 1974–1975.

Fig. 64.7: Alabaster urn from Volterra. Volterra, Museo Guarnacci
of society, including freed slaves, whereas the travertine urns are made for—among
others—the descendants of the great families of the previous century, for whom the
funerary sphere has likely ceased to be a locus of self-representation and display of
status.33
Notwithstanding developments like this last one, the urns clearly testify to the
social vitality of northern Etruscan centers and to the consequences this situation had
for handicraft—not only directly but also indirectly through the representations of the
deceased on the lids. The figures are shown reclining at a banquet, usually holding
richly decorated vessels such as paterae and drinking-horns, as well as mirror cases
or fans in the case of women (Fig. 64.7). Moreover, the female recumbents in par-
ticular are themselves lavishly adorned with jewelry, including earrings, necklaces,
armbands, rings, and crossing chains. Even though these mostly standardized images
should not necessarily be taken at face value, they betray a desire for the ostenta-
tious display of wealth in the private sphere that was undoubtedly real and that must
have acted as a powerful driving factor for the patronage of luxury arts. Given that
not much jewelry and precious metalware dating to this period has survived, we can
use the urn lids as indicators—if not of the actual appearance of the objects—of the
degree of investment and attention devoted to the private sphere, the same kind of
33 Sclafani 2010; Benelli 2009.

investment and attention that is attested in coeval Vetulonia by the terracotta friezes
of mythological content used to decorate domestic spaces.34
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Arnaldo Marcone
Abstract: It may be safely assumed that within the various Etruscan cities there was strife between
the well-to-do aristocratic classes and the lower classes who constituted the majority of the popula-
tion. The so-called “Prophecy of Vegoia” documents, for the beginning of the first century BCE, a
conflict between owners and servants, a category probably encompassing all those who found them-
selves in a subordinate position.
In general, the agrarian structures of Etruria, especially in the north, were noticeably stable over
an extended period of time, a stability that Rome was anxious to preserve, up to the outbreak of the
Social War (91–89 BCE). If great properties belonging to the nobility were the fundamental component
of the agrarian economy, the legal conditions of the laborers who worked them remain uncertain.
The presence of slaves—or at any rate indentured workers— is certain; less clear is the situation of
the classes of small dependent workers that are beginning to be identified through archaeological
investigation.
And while it appears excessive to speak of Etruscan society of the beginning of the first century
BCE as an “open society,” there does seem to have been a trend towards the mitigation of social con-
flict through a process of economic development and in consequence a reasonably acceptable politi-
cal equilibrium within the community of citizens.
Keywords: Society, Romanization, Great properties, Social conflict
Introduction
It is widely assumed that Etruscan society enjoyed an internal social stability that
was maintained, at least in part, with the support of Rome, even in the first century
BCE—quite aside from the development of Romanization (see chapter 37 Marcone).
There is no doubt, however, that the difficult conditions imposed by Rome on
the cities of southern Etruria at the beginning of the third century—Caere, Tarquinia,
Vulci, and subsequently Volsinii—must have had a considerable impact on the entire
area. Rome’s territorial confiscations in these areas must have had a considerable
effect on the economic development of the region, and therefore on social relation-
ships, while the process took longer in northern Etruria.
I am very grateful to Enrico Benelli, Peter Garnsey and Alessandro Naso for their help and advice
while writing this article.
1192 Arnaldo Marcone
1 Aristocratic versus lower classes

The assumption remains valid, at least as a starting-point, that the internal life of
the various cities was characterized by stark contrasts between the prosperous aris-
tocratic classes and the lower classes that constituted the majority of the population.
Both Livy and Dionysius of Halicarnassus refer explicitly to limited groups of people
(principes) who held power. The identification has found favor in the literature,
among the Etruscan lower classes, of a specific intermediate class between freedom
and legally sanctioned servitude, with access to forms of property, the penestai.
Thanks to Helmut Rix’s fundamental discoveries in the field of onomastics, nearly
all the assumed vocabulary of servitude has been completely revised.1 In particular
it has been shown that there is no proof of the existence of the penestai in Etruria.
According to one view—much favored in the aftermath of the Second World War
— that involved a thoroughly negative assessment of the effects of the Roman con-
quest on Etruscan society, and that is no longer accepted, these penestai formed the
overwhelming majority of Etruscan society, a sort of equivalent of the Roman plebe-
ians before the struggle for political emancipation.2 It has also been shown that the
word, which actually appears just once in Dionysius in relation to Etruria, does not
in fact refer to a specific legal condition.3 It designates a type of bond between lower
and ruling classes that characterizes various societies and is not typical of Etruscan
society alone. In the specific case, Dionysius might simply have been making a com-
parison between the armies put in the field by Etruscan nobles with the Roman regi-
ments formed by free citizens.4
The fact remains that strong social tensions capable of shaking the very founda-
tions of cities’ social life are recurrent phenomena in Etruscan history. At the end of
the fourth century, in 302, uprisings in Arretium (Arezzo) proved to be the underlying
cause provoking a sort of general rebellion involving all of Etruria. From what can be
deduced from Livy’s succinct version, it seems that at the origin of the insurrection
lay a conflict between the powerful local family, the Cilnii, which gravitated tpwards
Rome and the plebs.5
The revolt that involved Volsinii in 265–264 is known to us from several historio-
graphic versions. To them should be added what is transmitted to us in a pseudo-Aris-
totelian work, De mirabilibus auscultationibus. In this text, which reflects the taste for
ethnography and for utopia that was widespread at the Ptolemaic court in Egypt,6 ref-
1 Rix 1963.
2 Benelli 2011.
3 Benelli 1996.
4 Cerchiai 2000.
5 Harris 1971.
6 Massa-Pairault 2000.

65 Society, 250–89 BCE 1193
erence is made to a city in Etruria called Oinarea (“city of wine”), which was isolated
on a hilltop surrounded by forests. Here, within a primarily oligarchic government,
in order to prevent one of theirs from lording it over all, the masters entrust the gov-
ernment of the city to their own freed slaves who received, like Roman magistrates,
one-year appointments. Rome put an end to this by intervening in support of the oli-
garchs, harshly suppressing the revolt that was destroying the city, and deporting the
survivors.
It seems possible that this version, obviously the product of literary embellish-
ment, was based on information acquired at the court of Alexandria on the occasion
of a Roman embassy that took place in 273, in which one Ogulnius participated, who
was of Clusian-Volsinian origin. The historiographic tradition fundamentally agrees.
The most complete version is transmitted by the Byzantine historian Zonara. Accord-
ing to him, Volsinii originally enjoyed a stable political system. What induced its
inhabitants to dissoluteness would have been the Roman conquest.
2 Social development
It remains in doubt whether—or how far—such social strife can also be interpreted
as struggles between gentes of greater and lesser power within the gentile system,
similar in some ways to the struggle between patricians and plebeians in republican
Rome, or whether the struggles should be understood as the activity of a revolution-
ary type of servile elements unrelated to the gentes.
A passage in Diodorus Siculus (5.40.3) that derives from Posidonius seems to refer
to the peculiarity of the social situation of the Etruscan cities.7 Diodorus also takes up
the matter of the exceptionally luxurious lifestyle of the Etruscans. One of the more
evident manifestations of such tryphé was the banquets organized with the assistance
of many slaves—some of them dressed in a fashion not appropriate to their status. The
banquet would thus become a reflection of disturbed social relations apparently due
to a level of wealth so elevated as to afford servants a standard of living close to that
of their employers.
This multiplicity of references to the peculiarity of Etruscan social development
requires consideration. It is out of the question that these servants resided outside the
law and thus easily assimilated to slaves. On the contrary, it is safe to assume a phe-
nomenon of moral degeneration that, to adopt the perspective of the ancient sources,
could be attributed to excessive “luxe”—in other words, forms of rapid, undisciplined
acquisitiveness that underlay unforeseeable social destabilization. It is plausible that
a strongly hierarchical society, which grew more and more rigid within, could have
7 Canfora 1989.

experienced a sort of proxy, a virtual transfer of the management of power from the
heads of the few most powerful families to their own slaves. And it is also entirely
comprehensible that such an outcome of social development would have provoked
a sensation. This explains the reflections of contemporaries on the case with such
peculiar developments within the utopian and ethnographic literature as well.
The ultimate outcome of such a process of social and political confusion, which
probably began painlessly, would either have been the effective undermining of inter-
nal order, or that the slaves—profiting from their position—would definitively over-
throw their masters from positions of power. Given the situation, Roman interven-
tion to reestablish order was inevitable. The exemplary nature of the punishments
inflicted by Rome may be seen as a response to the specific risks, in terms of interstate
relations, from a situation of internal instability that could have the effect of dragging
in other Etruscan cities as well.
The so-called “prophecy” of Vegoia also seems to refer to a somewhat similar
situation. The prophecy is a sort of “cry of pain” from the slaves, who on their own
initiative removed the termini and, to make matters worse, did so with the connivance
of degenerate owners.8 In short, it follows that the farms were accessible not only to
the lawful landowners but also their slaves, who would have profited from the situ-
ation by moving property boundaries, and thus provoked a situation that seriously
disturbed the social fabric.
The question remains open of the actual existence in Etruscan society of the
lautni, a possible equivalent to the Roman freedman. In reality such caution is indis-
pensable, because while it is true that the lautni appear in some 200 epigraphic texts
in a subordinate position, and two bilingual inscriptions render lautni with libertus
(freedman),9 these are no clear proofs that such a position derives from a procedure, a
legal action (emancipation), like that known for Rome.10 As for onomastic formulas, a
variety of which were used in Rome, they do not in themselves clarify the relationship
between the lautni and their masters. Even less clear is the position of the lautni with
respect to the right of citizenship.11 It is true that the internal dynamics of Etruscan
society, in particular those coupled with the progress of Romanization, make it pos-
sible to assume the existence of a figure similar—albeit not entirely identical—to the
Roman freedman, whatever he may have been called. Also, the distribution of the
inscriptions that mention lautni, which are relatively numerous in the territories of
Clusium (Chiusi), Perusia (Perugia) and northern Etruria, but absent in Tarquinia,
Vulci, Volsinii, and other places, remains to be explained.
8 Colonna 1985.
9 CIE 1288 = TLE 470 = CIL XI 2203 from Chiusi; and CIE 3962 = CIL XI 1990 from Perugia.
10 Harris 1971.
11 Capdeville 2002.

65 Society, 250–89 BCE 1195
In any case the epigraphic monuments present us with numerous families—for

the later period we know almost their complete genealogies—in every one of the
Etruscan cities in apparent social equality. But it is also possible to catch a glimpse
of the formation of broader familial associations, distinct from an individual gens, of
which numerous branches can be traced outside the sphere of the city of origin. In the
strict, Roman, sense of the word gens, it has frequently been shown that cognomina
are added to the gentile names in order to distinguish the various branches of the
family. The small, strictly family tombs of the Archaic period are replaced by grandiose
gentile hypogea with many burials. Marriage seems to occur more frequently between
members of certain gentes, who then prove to be the same ones who most frequently
take up political and priestly positions. This can be explained quite reasonably with
reference to the gentile social system and implies a later date and a greater importance
of some gentes. With respect to this situation, the cities of northern Etruria, which
were less involved in Roman territorial reorganization, seem characterized by a more
evident stability and a more gradual development.
3 The consequences of the Second Punic War

In the course of the Second Punic War (218–202 BCE), the support of the Etruscan
cities in Rome’s confrontations was loyal and considerable. Despite this, the war left
the Etruscan cities in great internal difficulty. The risks of general upheaval were
high. In 196, the praetor Acilius Glabrio suppressed a slave revolt that had seriously
threatened Etruria. Rome’s assistance was indispensable in preserving the ruling
position of the oligarchic governments that ran the Etruscan cities. A good example
is the suppression of the cult of the Bacchanales that diffused rapidly from Etruria—
where it was born—throughout Italy, beginning in 186. The claim that this conspiracy
had the character of a social rebellion is very doubtful; it involved nocturnal rituals to
which were attributed forms of sexual depravity and even ritual murder. The success
it enjoyed, with very broad popular participation beyond the control of civil authority,
implies nonetheless some form of social frustration.
In the decades following the Second Punic War, the agrarian question does not
seem to have constituted a central political topic in Italy. The serious decline in popu-
lation that was brought about by Hannibal’s war must have favored the expansion of
the property held by the richest classes without bringing about, at least immediately,
deterioration of the condition of the farm population. Furthermore, the increased
availability of public land gave every citizen in a powerful position unprecedented
access to ample portions of land. But above all, social tension would have to be
averted by the great influx of wealth flowing in from overseas conquests.
It is thus plausible to suppose that the Etruscan area too could have benefitted,
in whole or in part, from this favorable situation that preserved it for several decades

from the increasing harshness of Roman demands. The oligarchies of the cities of
northern Etruria probably agreed to some form of integration of the lower classes,
with the purpose of satisfying their demands and thus preventing the exacerbation of
social tensions. It is true that slavery as such did not disappear, although it was, above
all, a phenomenon characteristic of southern Tyrrhenian Etruria.
The agrarian structures of Etruria, especially in the north, long maintained fea-
tures of substantial stability that Rome was anxious to preserve even at the outbreak
of the Social War (91–89 BCE). While the fundamental component of the agrarian
economy consisted of the great properties belonging to nobles, the legal condition of
the workers who cultivated them remains uncertain. The presence of slaves or in any
case bondsmen is certain. Less clear is the situation of the classes of small depend-
ent workers that have come to be identified through archaeological investigation. The
population of central-northern Etruria was highly differentiated, as can be verified
in the territories of Volterra, Clusium, and Perusia. In the period after the Second
Punic War, the territory of Clusium is distinguished by the presence of small rock-cut
chamber and corridor tombs with burial niches in the walls. Furthermore, it turns out
to be densely populated with secondary settlements with big farms. We may suggest
that here we find a production unit of family or servile management that can be attrib-
uted to sparse settlement. With respect to a relatively limited group of aristocrats, the
existence of classes of small or medium-sized owners thus appears admissible.
4 The society of Clusium

From the point of view of research into the social composition of the population, the
Etruscan case is distinguished by the possibility of reconstructing it on the basis of
the organization of funerary space. It turns out that the number of people who could
have a burial was particularly high especially for the later period (third–first centuries
BCE). About 2,700 epitaphs have come down to us that mention at least 600 differ-
ent gentilicia, which allows us some degree of knowledge of a large and distinct per-
centage of the population.12 Even though we cannot assume full comprehension, we
can at any rate believe that we have archaeological documentation relating to about
40 percent of the entire civic body, which is quite significant.13 We may add that,
alongside standardized humble burials, lavish funerary monuments have also been
preserved, so adequate representation of different social classes is available.
Especially between the mid-third and mid- second centuries, a noteworthy pres-
ence of metal objects is recognizable in the funerary equipment, an indication of
12 Benelli 1998.
13 Berrendonner 2007.

65 Society, 250–89 BCE 1197
overall wealth. The prevailing ritual of cremation must also be seen in relation with
an elite of considerable economic means.
The variety of the tombs declines with the passage of time; the funerary monu-
ments tend toward homogeneity. This tendency leads to various conclusions. It is pos-
sible that Clusium felt the effect of diffusion of Roman values or perhaps of sumptu-
ary legislation that imposed more sober customs.
It may be going too far to hypothesize, on this basis, political transformations
involving the abandonment of preceding oligarchic regimes. Nonetheless, one can
hardly avoid recognizing the reality of economic decline which brought in its train
inequality of some, if not of major, significance.
The aforementioned Prophecy of Vegoia documents, for the beginning of the first
century BCE, the contrast between owners and servants, among whom are probably
to be counted all who were in a subordinate position. In view of some inner north-
ern Etrurian cities’ typical practice of delimiting private gentile property with bound-
ary markers just as for public property, in this period, a sort of agrarian regime can
be assumed that economically equalizes the largely literate rural population. This
resulted from the strong social tensions that were likely present at the beginning of
the second century.14
On the other hand, smallholdings remained important in Italian agriculture, even
if they lost some ground following the Second Punic War and the prolongation of
military service in the overseas campaigns that depleted the manpower available for
work in the fields. Traditional agrarian management remained preponderant in vast
areas of central Italy and the Po Valley, and did not completely disappear even in the
districts where the land concentration was greater, as in southern Etruria.
As for urban craft production, it seems that the workshops were divided between
the freeborn and slaves. In this sector too, small productive enterprises directly con-
trolled, or under slave management, are shown to have been fundamentally stable.
Some high-quality products of the first half of the fourth century gradually gave
way to forms of standardized and simplified production. The new features of such
manufacture probably imply a different organization of work. The new relationship
between craftsman and customer, the standardization of products, and the increasing
technical and formal decline were the harbinger of more general economic, social,
and political transformations of Etruria, more evident in the southern region of older
artistic traditions.
14 Valvo 1988.

5 Political integration
The German linguist Helmut Rix assumes, on the basis of epigraphic evidence, that
between 280 and 140, “social revolutions” in northern Etruria led to the political inte-
gration of the dependent classes.15 Rather, the change in the onomastic formulary
that took place may have been the effect of pressure from Rome in relation to the
census and military service.16 Regarding military service, its important role in the
development of society in the various Etruscan cities can be recognized. It has been
estimated17 that if 15 percent of the Etruscans were employed as soldiers in the Roman
army, which would have involved about 10,500 men.
The reasons for Etruscan opposition to M. Livius Drusus the Younger’s proposal
to grant full Roman citizenship to the Italici have been explained in various ways. It
has been attributed both to the conservative orientation of the Etruscan nobility with
respect to changing relations within the cities that had already distorted the overall
balance, and to the fact that Etruscans and Umbrians would have been less interested
than other allied communities in exchanging land for citizenship. Exactly this sort of
exchange has to be considered the herald of unacceptable changes in social relations.
In any case it is reasonable to suppose that Etruscan society would have maintained
some fundamental elements of continuity. Nor, on the other hand, is it out of the
question to speak of a general philo-Marianism for Etruria. For Clusium, there is no
obvious proof of its prominent involvement in the struggle between Marius and Sulla.
What is certain is that in 91 BCE, Etruscans and Umbrians came to Rome to protest
the provisions of Livius Drusus. It is believed that the agrarian reforms of Drusus
damaged the system of small and medium landholdings. It is also supposed18 that
the opposition of Etruscans and Umbrians concerned the grant of Roman citizenship
rather than the agrarian laws, because the grant of citizenship would have the effect
of aiding the lower classes, which were traditionally excluded from political power.
The explanation of this hostility of the Etruscan ruling classes to the granting of citi-
zenship, however, does not require invoking a supposed “feudal” structure for Etruria
at the beginning of the first century BCE that was dominated by latifundia worked
by a peasantry enslaved as serfs. Instead, we must recognize the signs of a changing
society that had responded, albeit on their own time and with their own methods, to
the contact with and influence of Rome, and to the development of economic relations.
Nevertheless, to speak of early first century Etruscan society as an “open society” in
which the nobility made “a show of enlightened openness toward the lower classes”
15 Rix 1977.
16 Gabba 1994.
17 Harris 1977.
18 Gabba 1972.

65 Society, 250–89 BCE 1199
is to go too far.19 This represents a tendency toward mitigating social conflict by way
of an economic development that privileged a political equilibrium that was more
acceptable within the community of citizens.
Local peculiarities are obviously important, particularly in northern Etruria. The
villas here are scattered and are found only along the coast. At Volterra, the Cecina
family negotiated their own allegiance to the Roman state both to protect their inter-
ests and to guarantee continuity of agrarian management, social order, and the
prevailing ideological system. In contrast to Volterra, at Luni Romanization does
not seem to have produced significant consequences. As for Pisa, the growing sig-
nificance of the port favored social change as the result of the involvement of new
families in manufacture and commerce. At the same time new groups such as the
freedmen emerged that were less bound to social norms.20
6 Caught between Marius and Sulla

The philo-Marian choice of many Etruscan cities might have various explanations,
and it seems plausible that precisely the internal dynamic of at least part of the Etrus-
can world could have played an important role. The case of Clusium is particularly
significant because of the profusion of epigraphic evidence and the abundance of
funerary finds. The social groups known to us reveal a close relation between the
groups themselves and the aristocratic citizen classes, rather than an opening up
of the aristocracy. We may imagine a general improvement of the middle and lower
classes with an associated erosion of the preeminent position of the aristocracy.
We know from Plutarch that in 87, Marius, who was coming from Africa with
limited forces, landed at Talamone and succeeded in recruiting sizable forces from
among the Etruscans. It is likely that Talamone had been deliberately chosen as a
place to land, especially in light of the fact that he succeeded in winning over to his
cause 5,000 or 6,000 “Etruscans.” If we are to see in these “Etruscans” representa-
tives of the traditionally enslaved classes (slaves and similar categories), who had
been attracted by the opportunity for gain afforded by military service, a very differ-
ent picture of Etruscan society emerges. In it, still-traditional elements of the “ancien
régime,” at least in the regions of the most intensive agricultural exploitation, coexist
with more developed forms of social relations. As for the thousands of men who
accompanied Marius from Africa, we can imagine that, alongside Moorish knights,
some were Etruscans. Plutarch (Mar. 41.2) speaks generically of persons “who came
from Italy.” An African colony of Etruscans has been revealed at Wadi Milian in the
19 Sordi 2009.
20 Terrenato 2001.

hinterland of Tunis by some inscriptions with definitions of the boundaries laid down
by one M. Unata (a name that suggests a Clusian origin). The Etruscans in question
called themselves dardani (Fig. 38.6). If they really belonged to the group of colonists
who settled in Africa in 103–100,21 Marius’s decision to land at Talamone presupposes
complex relations from the point of view of social history as well. Yet this may have
been merely antiquarian nostalgia on the part of a group of veterans settled around
Thuburbo Maius, an area of Augustan allocations, who proudly called themselves
dardani.22
In 82, northern Etruria finally became involved in the military operations of Cn.
Papirius Carbo, in the Cisalpine region. In this case the Etruscan cities that definitely
lined up against Sulla were Arretium (Arezzo), Fiesole, and Volterra, which endured
a severe siege that lasted three years, a stiff penalty for its opposition to the dictator.
Again in the following years, it was Fiesole that was at the heart of unresolved epi-
sodes of conflict. In 78 the Fiesolans were distinguished by the support they provided
to the attempted revolution of Lepidus, who barricaded himself into the northern part
of the region. Fiesole, on the other hand, was the only city in Etruria in which Sulla’s
allocations had been brought to completion with all the consequences that that sort
of procedure entails.
The decisive turn in Etruscan society would take place toward the end of the
century under the agency of Augustus, who promoted a grandiose program of urban
development, in particular in the southern part of the region, which attracted a large
number of immigrants and nouveaux riches, a development that remained visible
until the end of the Empire.23 There are several senators for whom an Etruscan origin
can be ascertained.24 It was the moment of permanent integration.
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66 Ritual and Cults, 250–89 BCE
Abstract: The period from 250 to 89 BCE was marked by the completion of the Roman conquest of
Etruria. The Etruscan territory was eroded by the establishment of colonies on Etruscan territory and
by the construction of consular roads. Faced with these changes, the aristocracy sought refuge in the
search for salvation in doctrines and mysteries of Greek origin, indeed in an apocalyptic prophetism,
but rituals and cults changed essentially by being widely and progressively assimilated to those of
the Roman conquerors. These religious doctrines had long been successful in Etruria. For example,
a whole tradition made Etruria one of the centers of Dionysianism. For Clement of Alexandria, the
cista mystica containing the phallus of Dionysus, who had been killed by the Titans, was believed to
have been brought to Etruria. The cult of Dionysus-Bacchus, with its occult and initiation aspects, is
thought to have been introduced to Etruria by a “Greek of obscure origin” (Graecus ignobilis). Fourth-
century funerary iconography (in particular, the Tomb of the Orcus II in the necropolis of Monterozzi)
already showed signs of influence by Greek, Italic, and especially Siceliot doctrines, of an Orphic-
Pythagorean type, but the number of occurrences significantly increased in the third century. Until
186, there was a vogue for Dionysian associations. Several sarcophagi show that the deceased were
members of groups worshipping Pacha, Bacchus in Etruscan. In Chiusi, some deceased are repre-
sented on urns or sarcophagus lids with a kantharos, an oinochoe, or a patera in their hand and some-
times with a garland around their neck.
Keywords: Romanization, Dionysianism, Orphism, oracles
Introduction
The period from 250 to 89 BCE was marked by the completion of the Roman con-
quest of Etruria. The Etruscan territory was eroded by the establishment of colonies
on Etruscan territory and by the construction of consular roads. Faced with these
changes, the aristocracy sought refuge in the search for salvation in doctrines and
mysteries of Greek origin, indeed in an apocalyptic prophetism, but rituals and cults
changed in a big way, by being widely and progressively assimilated to those of the
Roman conquerors.
1 Success of salvation doctrines

The period saw the multiplication of religious associations linked with Greek cults
related to salvation doctrines. These religious doctrines had long been successful in
Etruria. For example, a whole tradition made Etruria one of the centers of Dionysian-
ism. For Clement of Alexandria (Protr. 2.19.1), the cista mystica containing the phallus
of Dionysus, who had been killed by the Titans, is believed to have been brought
to Etruria. The cult of Dionysus-Bacchus with, its occult and initiation aspects, is
thought to have been introduced to Etruria by a “Greek of obscure origin” (Graecus

ignobilis: Livy 39.8.3–4; Clem. Al. Protr. 2.23–21). Fourth-century funerary iconogra-
phy (in particular, the Tomb of the Orcus II in the necropolis of Monterozzi) already
showed signs of influence by Greek, Italic, and especially Siceliot doctrines, of an
Orphic-Pythagorean type, but the number of occurrences significantly increased in
the third century. Until 186, we observe a vogue for Dionysian associations.1 Several
sarcophagi show that the deceased were members of groups worshipping Pacha,
Bacchus in Etruscan.2 In Chiusi, some deceased are represented on urns or on sar-
cophagus lids with a kantharos, an oinochoe or a patera in the hand, and sometimes
with a garland round their neck.3
The Dionysian cult supposedly spread from Etruria to Rome and, because it was
said to have degenerated into nighttime orgies and criminal acts, was apparently
banned by a decree issued by the Roman Senate in 186, which launched a violent
crackdown all across Italy, as shown by a copy of the senatusconsultum sent to Ager
Teuranus.4 It is thought that is the reason that in Bolsena, an underground chamber
dating to 200 BCE, which could have housed a small sanctuary of Dionysius/Pacha,
was destroyed.5 In the destruction pits of this building, terra-cotta fragments of a
Dionysian throne were unearthed. This piece of furniture is richly adorned and sur-
rounded with putti riding panthers and playing with garlands. Dating from around
250, an Etruscan inscription was found at Tarquinia (ET Ta 1.17). It is engraved on a
relief that shows a stone volumen held by a deceased author of Haruspicine books
reclining on a sarcophagus. His name is Laris Pulenas, priest of Bacchus and Catha;
his eponymous ancestor was called Pule—that is, Polles, the name of a Greek seer.6
In Etruria, as throughout the Italian peninsula, the name Dionysus is associated with
a long string of social revolts, and it takes on a mystical dimension and a “national”
connotation.
The Orphic-Pythagorean conceptions of Greece and Southern Italy were also
adopted by many Etruscan aristocrats. The head of Orpheus prophesying appears on
third-century mirrors and gems, and local adaptations of the Orpheus myth are fre-
quent in iconography. It appears either as an anonymous head prophesying, or as a
character named Umaele represented in an Apollonian context, or a character tran-
scribing the words of a prophet.7 The Orphic tradition seems to explain the spread of
the caput Oli Volcentani legend that was linked with the foundation of the Capitoline
1 Colonna 1991.
2 marunuch pachanati (ET, Ta 1.184) from Tarquinia; maru pachathuras (ET, AT 1.32) from Tuscania.
3 Nielsen 1990, 61.
4 ILS 18 = ILLRP 511.
5 Pailler and Massa-Pairault 1979.
6 Heurgon 1957.
7 Maggiani 2005, 70.

cult.8 Male and female demons are shown accompanying the deceased in representa-
tions of voyages to the underworld or in eschatological scenes. In the “Four-Charon”
Tomb in the necropolis of Monterozzi, each of the demons is distinguished by an
epithet and by attributes (skin color, garment, facial appearance, etc.). They corre-
spond to a classification of the gates for safely entering the underworld. The Tomba
del Cardinale (Tomb of the Cardinal) in the necropolis of Monterozzi places scenes
of voyages to the beyond side by side on the tomb walls like the pages of a book.
The motif of the deceased’s journey in a carriage drawn by demons showed that the
soul of the deceased was capable of making its way on the sacred way (hiera odos) of
Orpheus initiates. On the sarcophagus case of Laris Pulenas, the cult of Orpheus is
recognizable from the fact that a magistrate (perhaps the deceased), avoiding pun-
ishment, goes through a gate leading to the Just and the heroes.9 The link between
Pythagoreanism and Etruria is so strong that literary accounts mention the presence
of Etruscan disciples by the side of Pythagoras,10 and several authors describe the
philosopher as “Tyrrhenian.”11
The Phoenician and Syrian god Adonis, worshipped in Greece, was also wor-
shipped in Etruria. A second-century Tuscania urn, adorned all around with holes
perhaps intended for flowers, depicts a dying Adonis.12 Edifice δ of the sanctuary of
Gravisca has a Latin inscription of the Augustan period with the name of the young
Adonis.13 It was deduced from this, despite the apophthegm ouden hieron (Phot.
Lexicon o 615; Suda o 798 Adler), that a sanctuary devoted to Adonis existed, with
facilities meant for the festivals of the Adonia. Mario Torelli recognized in the edifice
courtyard accommodations for the different stages of the festival. In the North portico,
there was a ritual of climbing onto the roof to wait for the god’s to arrive; the chamber
beside the northeast corner of the portico was the location of the wedding between
Adonis and the protagonist of the festival playing the role of Aphrodite; the stone
plate facing east-west was the tomb of Adonis; and in the unpaved part of the square
was a garden where the god’s short-lived lettuce was planted.14
The Eleusinian doctrine was also successful in Etruria: the sanctuary of Campetti
in Veii presents analogies with a thesmophorion. As in Bitalemi near Gela in Sicily,
buried hydriai were found as well as a bronze statuette carrying a piglet. In Fontanile
di Legnisina on the outskirts of Vulci, two of the 234 terra-cotta uteruses discovered
8 Fab. Pict. Fr. 12 P; Serv. ad. Aen., 8.345; Plin., HN 28.15.

9 Massa-Pairault 1997, 341–42.
10 Pl. Symp. 727b–c; Plut. Quaest. conv. 8.7.7–27; Iambl. VP 27.127.
11 Diog. Laert. 8.1–2; Diod. Sic. 10.3.1; Porph. Plot. 2.10; Clem. Al. Strom. 1.62; Euseb. Praep. evang.
10.4.13.
12 Sannibale 2008.
14 Fiorini 2008.

are dedicated to Vei,15 an Etruscan goddess who might have fulfilled the same educa-
tive and agrarian functions as Demeter.16
The influence of foreign doctrines can be observed on the bronze liver model from
Piacenza, dating to the late second or early first century BCE. Some deities whose
names appear in the regions of the liver (Tluscv, Mae, Tnvth, Letham) are not attested
elsewhere; they are esoteric elements probably known to a social or religious elite
and did not necessarily find an echo in the population.17 In the first century BCE, rep-
resentatives of old Etruscan families like Nigidius Figulus or Fonteius Capito spread
elements of these Orphic-Pythagorean doctrines among the Roman elite.
2 Prophecies and oracles

The success of ideas and ritual practices of the Greek world may explain the revival
of oracular cults during this period. Scenes of oracle consultation and oracles’ replies
are represented on monuments of the late Hellenistic period.18 Late third-century
mirrors and urns show a character named Cacu prophesying to the sound of a lyre
with his words being transcribed on a diptych by a really young man called Artile.19
The scene refers to events supposed to have occurred at the time of Servius Tullius,
since Cacu is flanked by two warriors whose names are given by a slightly older
mirror, Caile and Avle Vipinas. A link is established between this surname of Vipinas
and that of Servius Tullius in the fragments of a speech by emperor Claudius in the
senate in 48 CE transcribed on the Lyon tablet.20 All these objects may allude to the
oracular character of the major Etruscan sanctuaries, where strange phenomena like
the presence of blood in the river water of Caere (Caeritis amnis) and in the spring of
Hercules in 217 (Livy 22.1.10) were discussed.
Scraps of this type of prophecy that spread throughout Etruria are known through
the treaty of agrimensores in which the nymph Vegoia informed Arruns Velthumnus21
of great upheavals in Etruscan society and described apocalyptically the misfortunes
that were to befall Etruria, the land and inhabitants because it gave way to greed and
an unquenchable thirst for land. “Then also the earth will be moved by storms and
whirlwinds with frequent destruction, crops often will be injured and will be knocked
15 CIE 11134, 11135 (= Cristofani 1989–1990).

16 Massabò and Ricciardi 1988, 32.
17 Maggiani 1982; van der Meer 1987.
18 de Grummond 2000.
19 LIMC 3 s.v. Cacu, nos. 3–4, based on model no. 1.
20 Stearns-Davis 1912–13, 186–88.
21 Lachmann 1848, 350; Valvo 1988.

down by rain and hail, they will perish in the summer heat, they will be felled by
mildew. There will be much dissension among people.”22
This prophecy insists on the permanent character of boundaries and considers
changing these boundaries an act of sacrilege. Meticulous analyses of the text make it
possible to recognize more ancient cosmogonies and instructions that had undoubt-
edly been known for a long time, but the text was written in the first century BCE, as is
known because it refers to the eighth saeculum, or era, of Etruscan history. It may even
have been written at the time of the Social War. The bill of M. Livius Drusus of 91 BCE,
which proposed to extend the right of Roman citizenship and to link its granting with
agrarian reform, met with strong opposition from principes. The issue was indeed wor-
risome for the Etruscan elite. Volterra urns depict a scene of the murder of two mag-
istrates performing their duties, perhaps Tiberius and Caius Gracchus, who died at
precisely the time when they were trying to pass agrarian laws. Already in the first
half of the third century, slaves of Volsinii are said to have seized power and landlords’
possessions.23 The sensation caused by the prophecy can be explained by the preser-
vation of an ancient cult of boundaries. Deities like Selvans kept watch on the borders.
Selvans Tularia (CIE 10870) is believed to have protected all the borders, and Selvans
Sanchuneta (ET Vs 4.8) the boundaries of the sanctuary of Pozzarello near Bolsena.
The feeling of a precise length of time granted the Etruscans that can be read
in the prophecy of Vegoia is supported by the practice of a series of rituals meant to
record the passage of time. The Romans used clavus annalis, a term that they claimed
dated back to a very ancient period, for the custom of driving a nail into the side wall
of the temple of Capitoline Jupiter on the Ides of September every year (Livy 8.3), in
order to count time before the widespread use of writing (Festus, Gloss. Lat. s.v.); it was
kept later for the sake of religious respect for old customs. The preservation of these
practices is attested by magical nails of the third and second centuries, discovered
in the Pozzarello sanctuary near Bolsena24 and in the sanctuary of Sant’Antonio in
Caere25 that Giovanni Colonna associates with the cult of Rath/Apollo.26 The antique
dealer Cincius, who may have had Etruscan family ties, was an eyewitness in the late
first century BCE to an essential ritual of this cult. According to him, as reported by
Livy (7.3), “At Volsinii, too, nails may be seen in the temple of Nortia, an Etruscan
goddess, driven in to indicate the number of years.”27 The cult of a goddess called
Nortia in the Roman Volsinii is confirmed in a late period (Juv. 10.74; CIL VI 537.4, CIL
XI 7287). These ancient cults persisted and were influenced by foreign doctrines. We
22 Translation by N.T. de Grummond, in de Grummond and Simon 2006.

23 Flor. 1.16; Val. Max. 9.1.2; Zonar. 8.7; Oros. 4.5.3.
24 Acconcia 2000, 117–18, fig. 40.
25 Bevilacqua 2001.
26 Colonna 2001.
27 Translation from Foster 1924.

know from late sources that, conceivably as early as in the late Hellenistic period,
an alliance between cosmological and millenarian theories, Etruscan conceptions of
divine unknowability, and aspects of Hebraism and Mazdaism took place. Fragments
of these combinations are visible in the Tyrrhenia entry of the Suda and in Lactantius
Placidus (Schol. ad Stat. Theb. 5.515).
The success of contemporary philosophical currents, in particular stoicism, also
explains the revival of cleromancy in the third and second centuries.28 Numerous lots
bearing the names of deities in the genitive have been found in contexts of that time.
Some are pebbles with embossed inscriptions, or lead discs with a hole; or small,
long and rectangular bars that may be ex-votos rather than actual lots—that is, imita-
tions of actual lots. A second-century stone from Arretium with a dedication to Aplu
Puteś on one side and perhaps a ritual prescription on another side, as well as lots
engraved with Latin texts—a late third-century lot from Veii (Minerva dei(ve)), and
perhaps another from Chiusi (lanis tune)—obviously belong to the same category.
Livy (21.65.5) writes that at Caere, the tablets for divination had been reduced in size,
an event that Colonna places in the sanctuary of Sant’Antonio dedicated to Rath
(= Apollo).29 The second category, lead discs, is represented by a disc from Arretium
with the name of the deity śuri in the genitive. The category of small rectangular bars
includes two items: a lot from Viterbo from a sanctuary at La Cipollara engraved with
the inscription śuris savcnes, dating from the third or second century; and a long lot,
engraved with the name Artumes, discovered in the vicinity of the temple of Ara della
Regina near Tarquinia, dating to the same time. Finally, the sort which the haruspex
C. Fulvius Salvis offers a god on a relief discovered in Ostia may be considered a depic-
tion of lots.30 A child would draw a lot from those collected in an urn, a box, or a vase,
and hand it to a sortilegus priest, who was in charge of reading and interpreting it.
Two late second-century urns show an urn, a krater or an amphora placed in a naiskos
temple, beside which a middle-aged man in the vestments of a priest or a haruspex
can be seen.31
3 Traditional cults and Romanization

Traditional cults suffered from the destruction of big Etruscan sanctuaries during
wars of conquest by the Romans.
In the mid third century, after the capture of the town of Veii in 396, the famous
statue of Apollo and other acroterial and votive statues from the sanctuary of Porton-
28 Bagnasco Gianni 2001, 197–220.

29 Colonna 2001, 168–69.
30 Haack 2006, 54–58.
31 Brunn and Körte 1870–1916, 2.2.222, pl. 99.4; 2.2.221, pl. 99.3.

accio in Veii, were buried behind the retaining wall of the embankment above the
sanctuary terrace; and many ex-votos, dating from the fifth to the third centuries,
were buried in a cistern facing the temple of Portonaccio. A triumph of Q. Marcius
Philippus de Etrusceis, in fact probably over the Tarquinians, was celebrated in 281.
Most edifices of the sanctuary of Gravisca were destroyed during that period. In 280,
a triumph of Ti. Coruncanius cos. de Vulsiniensibus et Vulcientibus was celebrated.
In 264, the town of Volsinii was destroyed, its inhabitants were displaced to a new
city, Volsinii Novi, and the sanctuary of Voltumna was plundered by the Romans
(Plin. HN 34.34). The consul M. Fulvius Flaccus is said to have evoked (evocare,
“called forth to Rome”) the great god of Volsinii Voltumna-Vortumnus, by building a
temple for him in Rome. It is even known that M. Fulvius Flaccus who was awarded a
triumph de Vulsiniensibus in 264, was represented in triumphal clothes in the temple
of Vortumna on the Aventine (Festus, Gloss. Lat. p. 288 s.v. picta). He is believed to
have dedicated part of his plunder on a round base in the center of the sanctuary
of Sant’Omobono at the foot of Capitoline Hill.32 In 241, the city of Falerii was also
destroyed and its inhabitants were displaced to a new city founded for this purpose,
Falerii Novi. Minerva, the main goddess of Falerii, is said to have been “imprisoned”
in the temple of Minerva capta on the Celio. In 273 (Cass. Dio fr. 33), half of the terri-
tory of Caere was seized and then colonies, such as Castrum Novum and Pyrgi, were
formed all along the Tyrrhenian coast.
These destructions and confiscations brought about a decline in the number of
people attending the great sanctuaries of the Archaic period. If the presence of black-
glazed ceramic vases and of ex-voto is anything to go by, the sanctuary of Gravisca
was reoccupied in the mid third century. Offerings were deposited near the altars and
the (statue?) bases as well as in room M, and worshippers went to the Adonion until
the Augustan period. Caeretan sanctuaries remained active until the third century,
but the last Etruscan ex-votos of the temple of Manganello date from the late second
century; the Veian sanctuaries of Campetti and Macchiagrande experienced a certain
loss of interest from the second century onward; and from the mid third century to
the first century BCE, mostly black-glazed ceramics and Italic sigillated potteries
were deposited in the sanctuary.33 Etruscan worshippers in some places seem to have
resisted the forms of religious Romanization represented by the wearing of veils and
bullae. In Tarquinia, a city the Romans had difficulties conquering, only ten heads out
of 223 were veiled.34 In Caere, in Manganello,35 and among the heads of the Museo Gre-
goriano Etrusco,36 the majority of covered heads are not veiled. In Gravisca, the votive
32 Coarelli 1992, 213–14, fig. 38. See chapters 38 Torelli (Fig. 38.10) and 61 Becker (Fig. 61.2).
33 Olivieri 2005.
34 Comella 1982, 32.
35 Mengarelli 1935, 92, pl. XXI.2, 4.
36 Hafner 1965, 45–46; 1966–67, 29–30.

head of woman is without veil37 and the statuettes of babies in swaddling clothes do
not have bullae.38 In Fontanile di Legnisina, only one baby of five is adorned with a
bulla.39 In Faliscan territory, veiled heads were few and far between, and babies in
swaddling clothes had no bullae. Narce only delivered one veiled head out of three
votive heads,40 and Falerii yielded two veiled heads out of seventeen between the end
of the fourth century and the first century BCE—one in Celle, the other in Vignale, and
no baby wore a bulla.41
In most cases, sanctuaries were simply rearranged or redecorated. In northern
Etruria, on the Volterra Acropolis, two temples from the end of the third to the end
of the first century BCE were built where there had been a sacellum of the early fifth
century;42 in Vallebuona, on the Piazza della Pescheria, a temple of the end of the
Archaic period was restored in the third and again in the second century;43 in Tala-
mone, where the pediment of temple built on the top of the hill in 225, was redec-
orated in the first half of the second century with a scene representing the Seven
against Thebes.44
It is safe to say that at the end of the second and the beginning of the first cen-
turies BCE, the cults of great deities of the Etruscan pantheon lived on, especially
outside of Etruria proper. Blocks with inscriptions of Feltre in Rhaetia (ET Pa 4.1) show
that there was a cult of Tinia in a sacred edifice. In Tunisia, in Smindja, in an Etrus-
can-Latin settlement of a colonial type, some cippi (ET Af 8.1–8) delimit a territory
under the protection of Tina and dedicated to the Dardanians (Fig. 38.6).
The continuing activity of sanctuaries is to be related to the influx of exchanges
and populations thanks to the building of consular roads and the installation of set-
tlers. Perhaps the continuing activity of Veian sanctuaries after the destruction of the
city of Veii in 396 is to be explained by the proximity of the Rome-Nepi-Sutri road and
by the building of the Via Cassia. In Macchiagrande, to the northeast of Veii, five third
or second century altars have dedications in Latin to Roman gods (Minerva, Victo-
ria, Jupiter Libertas, Apollo, Dii and Deae).45 In the sanctuary of Portonaccio, again
from the third century, Latin colonists visited the altar of Minerva and its annexes,
as evidenced by the famous dedication of L. Tolonius to Minerva,46 at least until the
early second century, when the porticos were destroyed, the cistern blocked, and the
37 Comella 1978, 15, A7.

38 Comella 1978, 21–24, BII and pl. VI, 27–31.
39 Ricciardi 1988–89, 167 n. 73.
40 De Lucia Brolli 1990, 193.
41 Comella 1986, 38; 46–47; Nijboer 1991.
42 Bonamici 2003.
43 Galluccio 1999.
44 von Vacano 1992.
45 Torelli 1999, 25–29.
46 ILLRP 237.

altar dismantled. Roman colonization caused a reorientation of religious practices.

The sanctuary of La Catona in Arretium, situated near one of the city’s main streets,
was newly decorated during the first half of the second century; the new decor took
on themes praising Rome (friezes of Celtomachy and Trojan scenes) and celebrating
the alliance between Rome and Arretium.
In the late Hellenistic period, official Etruscan cults were replaced by correspond-
ing Roman cults, even in the cities of northern Etruria, but Etruscan particularities
survived, like the oracular tradition that was preserved thanks to the aura that still
surrounded the Etruscan language. In the countryside, where Romanization may have
been slower, traditional cults apparently continued, particularly in gentile groups. A
bronze statue, discovered near Perugia in 1566, commonly called Arringatore (“the
haranguer”) because the man represented is standing, his right arm outstretched, his
hand raised and open as if making a speech, was perhaps wrongly interpreted too
restrictively as the only evidence of a will to display Roman gravitas ostentatiously.
The presence of a long Etruscan votive dedication engraved on the edge of the toga,
dating from the late second century at the earliest,47 shows that the statue is also an
offering of Aule Meteli, son of Vel and of Vesi, to the god Tece, probably dedicated in a
sanctuary on the shore of Lake Trasimeno.
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Amsterdam: Gieben.

Hilary Becker
Abstract: This chapter explores the economic realities of Etruria from the third through the early first
century BCE. These realities include increased contact with Rome as well as changes in demography
and social structure. This period also furnishes the strongest evidence for the nature of land owner-
ship, which is provided by boundary markers as well as two important inscriptions (the Tabula Cor-
tonensis and the cippus of Perugia) that served to adjudicate land.
Keywords: economy, property, Romanization, latifundia
Introduction
The experience of Romanization in Etruria was not a monolithic process, and both
archaeological and literary evidence document the changes that were occurring in
different areas at different times. Significant social transformations were occurring
in this general period, beginning with the rebellions at Arezzo in 302 BCE, and at
Volsinii in 265–264, both of which targeted the ruling elite. This social discord involv-
ing the lower classes—well explored in chapter 65 Marcone—has important economic
implications as to labor and ownership during this period.
One aspect of the economic relationship between Rome and the various Etruscan
cities can be inferred from the “allies’ shopping list” of goods requisitioned by the
Roman state for its expedition to Africa during the Second Punic War in 205 (Livy
28.45.13–18). According to Livy, Populonia offered iron, Caere sent grain, Volterra
sent grain and interior fittings for ships, and Arezzo contributed armor, weapons and
grain. Perusia, Chiusi, and Roselle sent grain and fir for shipbuilding, and Tarquinia
sent linen for sails (see chapter 68 de Angelis). A few observations can be made on
the significance of this inventory. First, a large quantity of products was available in
Etruria and these goods could be transported across long distances. Second, each
city-state and its territory contributed specific products—presumably those that were
characteristic of each region or in particular abundance there. The timber of Etruria
certainly was abundant, whether it was called on for furniture, ships, containers,
pitch, or charcoal for industry (such as the metal industry; e.g. Strabo 5.2.5). We are
told that six different city-states contributed grain, a fact that is of great interest given
that the combination of intense wartime need within Etruria together with the amount
exported for use by the Romans most probably indicates the existence of a substantial
1216 Hilary Becker
surplus; however, we cannot be certain just what the needs of Scipio Africanus might
have been for this fleet.1
1 Populonia’s continued strength

The metal ores that made Populonia so prosperous and successful in previous periods
continued to be mined in the Hellenistic period, producing a large amount of leftover
slag (see chapter 26 Corretti). Indeed, it was probably during the Hellenistic period
when that vast amount of industrial refuse was dumped over the necropolis of San
Cerbone, which lies adjacent to the Gulf of Baratti.2 This action represents an interest-
ing search for space since the San Cerbone necropolis contained tombs ranging in
date from the Orientalizing to the Classical periods.
Populonia continued to be a vital port well into the Roman period and remained
important as a source of Elban ore. A shipwreck found at Pozzino in the Gulf of Baratti
testifies to the international orbit that Populonia continued to enjoy. The cargo of this
wreck included a small amount of boxwood for spices or essence (presumably from
the east), a Pergamene West Slope Ware cup, and other vessels from the eastern por-
tions of the Mediterranean.3 It also contained more than thirty Rhodian amphorae
from around 150 BCE, which had once held wine and came to be refilled with dates.
The ship also carried iron ingots, which means that the ship was presumably wrecked
soon after loading its cargo at Populonia. Not only did Populonia’s resources attract
the interest of foreign merchants, they also promoted international trade – including
exchange with southern Italy – as demonstrated by the ceramics found on site.
From the third to the first centuries, a significant quantity of the wine imported to
Populonia came from Campania, as shown both by amphora shapes and epigraphic
evidence.4 In spite of a booming industry in neighboring Volterra, one third of the
black gloss pottery thus far found at Populonia (dating from the second and first cen-
turies) originated in Campania. A passage from Diodorus Siculus may shed light on
the ancient relationship between Campania and Populonia (see chapter 55 Becker).
Diodorus explains that merchants exported the smelted Elban ore to Dicaearchia or
other emporia to be worked.5 Dicaearchia was founded around 530 BCE and might
1 The fleet consisted of twenty quinqueremes and ten quadriremes. If these numbers are correct, and
that is all these contributions were supposed to contribute toward, there would have been more than
9,000 men.
2 Minto 1954.
3 Gualandi 2005, 144–46.
4 Gualandi 2005, 146–47.
5 Diod. Sic. 5.13.1. His emphasis on currency may reflect his first-century perspective, although some
coinage may have been used. (Ciampoltrini and Firmati 2002, 35).

67 Economy, 250–89 BCE 1217
have been a destination in the Late Archaic period. But by the Roman period, this site
was called Puteoli and was the most important Roman port on the Tyrrhenian coast.
Puteoli may have been a very important “Mediterranean middle man” in the export
of Elban ore at this time, so that its local products, as well as foreign goods collected
from other ports, would have been even more likely to be brought from this Roman
port to Etruria.
2 Property and property divisions

Beginning in the eighth century, almost as soon as the Etruscans adopted an alpha-
bet, they found it useful to label portable property with their names.6 It was only
much later in Etruscan history that Etruscans used inscriptions to mark their land.
Two boundary stones found near Perugia (Bettona) denote the property boundary
(tular) of the Larna family: tular larns and tular larna.7 These stones, dating to the
fourth and third centuries, are part of a larger group of boundary stones found in
northern Etruria and beyond, which served the purpose of separating one area from
another. Stones marked the tular spural of Fiesole, the boundaries of the city, and the
tular rasnal of Cortona, the boundaries of the city’s early ager.8 These latter stones do
not mark property ownership per se, but rather religious and juridical boundaries.
These property divisions were so popular that an even more generic boundary marker
was found in Spina, stating mi tular, “I am a boundary.”9 Presumably when it was first
set in context, it was well known whether the boundary being delineated was public
or private.
The religious background for such boundaries is firmly rooted in Etruscan doc-
trinal practice. Rituals existed, such as the use of a plow to found and demarcate a
city’s boundaries, which the Romans termed the sulcus primigenius. There is also the
example of the prophecy of the nymph Vegoia—which specifically advised against
moving the boundary stones set by Iuppiter; this prophecy also demonstrates that
demarcation had ritual import.10 Private boundaries were important to the Etruscans,
too, which is clear from the Etrusca disciplina, the collected body of religious knowl-
edge, which once included a liber iuris terrae Etruriae (“book of the law of the land of
6 Becker 2010.
7 Lambrechts 1970, 19-21; TLE 692. See also Stopponi 2006, 315 nos. 263–64. These date to the late
third century.
8 See Lambrechts 1970, 1984 for a full treatment and Becker 2013.
9 Cristofani 1985.
10 de Grummond 2006, 191–92.

1218 Hilary Becker
Etruria”).11 And while nothing is known about this book regarding its date or specific
content, two Etruscan contracts dealing with land possession do exist.
These two contracts, both of the Hellenistic period, reveal a good deal about prop-
erty ownership. The first contract is the cippus of Perugia (third to second cent. BCE),
which deals with a boundary dispute recorded on a boundary marker that delineated
the adjudicated property.12 This inscription addresses the adjudication of the rights
of the families of Larth Afuna and Aule Velthina. Among other things, the inscription
details the sharing (or use) of Aule Velthina’s property with (or by) Larth Afuna. The
Tabula Cortonensis (late third to early second cent. BCE), inscribed on a bronze tablet
discovered in 1992, also preserves a contract between private people (Fig. 38.2). The
Cusu family and Petru Scevas worked out an arrangement concerning the purchase
or sale of property.13 These contracts allow a privileged look into real estate owned
by individuals and families. Both contracts have an official character, even bearing
the names of witnesses. Both contracts deal with precise measurements (adding to
their legal character), and the cippus even mentions the term tularu, “boundary.”
The Tabula, on the other hand, has an eponymous date and even has instructions for
storing copies of the inscription in private homes for safe-keeping.14 A third inscrip-
tion of potential economic import comes from Tarquinia. This inscription, preserved
on a bronze tablet, is only partially legible but does have an eponymous date and
seems to be a legal document dealing with a member of the Clevsina family.15
These documents, preserved on permanent materials, may reflect many others
(such as the copies of the Tabula Cortonensis stored in private homes) that may
have been recorded on less durable materials. These documents raise many ques-
tions about property ownership in the Hellenistic period, and indeed also for earlier
periods, from which such contracts have not survived. In legal terms, these inscribed
texts also offer important insight into the overlap between public and private law, a
topic that is of course better attested in the Roman world, but one that clearly was
important in Etruria. This intersection is key in terms of demonstrating the state’s
interest in the legalities of land ownership, transfer, and demarcation.
11 Serv. ad Aen. 1.2. Rand’s commentary rejects the alternate reading of ruris (in place of iuris) and
finds support in Cic. Div. 2.50 (Rand 1946, 10). See also: Scarano Ussani and Torelli 2002, 42; Facchetti
2000, 46–48.
12 Roncalli 1985; Facchetti 2000.
13 Maggiani 2001; Pandolfini and Maggiani 2002; Scarano Ussani and Torelli 2002; Becker 2010.
14 The Tabula states in the final section that a copy of the agreement was stored in the home of the
Cusu, as well as in the homes of witnesses (i.e. Velche Cusu, son of Aule; Velthur Titlni, son of Velthur;
Lart Celatina, son of Apnei/Alpnai; and Laris Celatina, son of Titlnei/ Pitlnei—with differing readings
of two names by Maggiani and Wallace: Maggiani 2001, 107; Facchetti 2005, 82–83; Wallace 2008,
212–13; Becker forthcoming).
15 Facchetti 2000, 89–94; ET Ta 8.1.

67 Economy, 250–89 BCE 1219
3 Population and the changing rural economy

In certain areas of Italy, lands recently annexed by Rome remained the center of
ongoing debate—especially with respect to the issue of the allocation of lands classi-
fied as ager publicus. Rome’s interest in settling both the urban poor and discharged
military veterans on these lands resulted in conflict and demographic change. This
debate transpired at the same time as other important population-related develop-
ments. The Italian population boom—both within the city of Rome and in central
Italy—demanded an increase in food production to provide sustenance to the bur-
geoning populace and avoid famine. In the Roman system, large slave-run estates
referred to as latifundia began to appear. Aristocrats, often of the senatorial order,
owned these large- scale estates that required large numbers of slaves to work the
fields; it is no coincidence that increasingly large numbers of slaves were arriving in
Italy as a result of Rome’s eastern conquests. The study of this Hellenistic produc-
tive model has fueled a vast twentieth-century scholarship focused on the so-called
“Slave Mode of Production,” a Marxist- inspired agenda with an interest, above all,
in the enslaved and working classes.16 This land-use trend did not, however, impact
all areas of Etruria in the same way, which has important implications in considering
the economy, labor force, and population of Etruria during this time. The areas most
affected by Roman colonization were the coastal areas, as well as regions close to the
frontiers of Roman territory.
In 274 or 273, the Romans claimed one half of Caere’s territory.17 Three mari-
time colonies were founded shortly afterward by Rome: Castrum Novum (264), Pyrgi
(ca. 264), and Alsium (247).18 Field survey data suggest that population levels in the
territories of Caere and Tarquinia increased dramatically during the third and second
centuries as rural areas became more densely occupied.19 Some of these increases
might be attributable to Gracchan land settlements (see below), such as a Colonia
Tarquinia attested in the Libri coloniarum, which is suspected to be in Tarquinia’s hin-
terland (and not a re-foundation of the city itself).20 These sites would have helped
the economy of Rome’s expanding hinterland in two ways, both because they were
situated along the coast (allowing increased access to maritime traffic) and because
they flanked the Via Aurelia, Rome’s important northern coastal trunk road. Annal-
isa Marzano notes that local amphora production can be documented near Gravisca
16 Marzano 2009; Carandini 1985; Giardina and Schiavone 1981.

17 Cass. Dio fr. 33; Livy 7.19.6. Harris 1971, 106–7; Valvo 1988, 113–14.
18 Marzano 2009, 38.
19 Marzano 2009, 37.
20 Gazzetti 1990, 101, 103. See Lib. colon. 219, IL. Note that the Libri coloniarum also mention a
settlement at Arretium (see Lib. colon. 215.3L; Harris 1971, 205).

1220 Hilary Becker
and Pyrgi, which would have accommodated the surplus production of local wine,
whether it was produced by Roman or Etruscan farmers.21
In 137, Tiberius Gracchus famously traveled through Etruria on his way to Spain,
finding the land depopulated and farmed by barbarian slaves (Plut. Ti. Gracch. 8.7).
This state of affairs encouraged Gracchus to circulate the news in order to support his
plans to find land for Rome’s urban poor. The increased Roman presence, combined
with the testimony supplied by Plutarch, does not necessarily mean that Etruria was
full of latifundia, the large slave-run villas popular in Late Republican times.
In traveling to Spain, Tiberius Gracchus would have proceeded along the Via
Aurelia, which passed through Roman territory and many Roman colonies. In the
Ager Cosanus, for example, through which Gracchus would have had to travel, he
would have seen not only large estates, but also small and medium-sized farms.22 And
while settlement patterns and the process of Romanization vary widely both across
Etruria and over time, a similar scenario is found in some other parts of Etruria (see
chapter 65 Marcone). For example, the number of small and medium-sized farms con-
tinued nearly unabated in areas such as the Mignone Valley, the Tiber Valley, and the
Cecina Valley, even after those areas fell under Roman rule.23 In areas where small
and medium-sized farms were located next to large estates (and, of course, large
estates were not omnipresent in the increasingly Romanized Etruria), it is possible
that these sites could have shared resources.
Two small rural sites in the Cecina Valley do not reflect any disruption in set-
tlement patterns brought on by the Roman conquest, a disruption that some earlier
scholars have presumed existed in this period. Instead these sites speak to the sur-
vival of traditional small and medium-sized farms even after Romanization. The
Cecina Valley farm sites of San Mario (fourth century BCE–fourth century CE) and
Podere Cosciano (third century BCE–fifth century CE) both continued to be occupied
until late antiquity, with a reasonably consistent material culture throughout.24 While
these farm sites were not significantly altered, it remains impossible to say whether
the owners (or even the ethnicity of the owners) changed over time. In terms of life-
ways, the patterns appear to be quite consistent. In addition, it is difficult to docu-
ment the ethnic ownership of properties such as these farms without epigraphic evi-
dence. An example is the Roman villa at Ossaia (Cortona) that was owned by an elite
Etruscan family (Vibii Pansae) that had significant connections to Rome, and then
came to be owned by Gaius and Lucius Caesar.25 Another is the farm near Tarquinia
21 Marzano 2009, 39.

22 S. Dyson posits that the large villa of Settefinestre dates to the late second rather than the mid first
century BCE as its excavators believe, based on ceramic evidence. Dyson 1981, 272; Carandini 1985;
Marzano 2007, 126, 138.
23 Marzano 2009, 38–39; Potter 1979, 115; Terrenato 1998.
24 Motta, Camin, and Terrenato 1993, 113; Terrenato 1998, 102–4; Camin and McCall 2002.
25 Fracchia 1996, 196. This villa was built in the late second or early first century BCE.

67 Economy, 250–89 BCE 1221
owned by the wife of the elite Volterran Aulus Caecina, the ownership of which was
contested by the Roman Sextus Aebutius (Cic. Caecin.). Certainly all four of these
sites represent the layered Roman and Etruscan occupation of Etruria that occurred
increasingly from this period into the Roman era.
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—. forthcoming. “Evidence for Etruscan Archives. Tracking the Epigraphic Habit in Tombs, the Sacred
Sphere, and at Home.” In Etruscan Literacy in Social Context. London: Accordia Research
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Camin, L., and W. McCall. 2002. “Settlement Patterns and Rural Habitation in the Middle Cecina
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Carandini, A. ed. 1985. Settefinestre. Una villa schiavistica nell’Etruria romana. Modena: Panini.
Ciampoltrini, G., and M. Firmati. 2002. “The Blacksmith of Fonteblanda. Artisan and Trading Activity
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de Grummond, N. T., and E. Simon, eds. 2006. The Religion of the Etruscans. Austin: University of
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and Italian Society. Prehistoric, Roman and Medieval Studies, edited by G. Barker and
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Abstract: From 250 to 90 BCE, the external relationships of Etruria underwent both a process of
radical simplification and a major change in nature. Before the military defeat at the hands of Rome
and their incorporation into the latter’s system of unequal alliances, Etruscan cities had conducted
external affairs independently from one another, often with diverging perspectives and aims. The
establishment of Rome’s hegemony over Etruria in the first half of the third century BCE caused Rome
to become the main—if not the only—term of reference for all Etruscan cities in matters both military
and political. Etruria’s subordination to Rome, however, did not imply a passive acceptance of the lat-
ter’s political and military perspective. The analysis of representations of enemies (Celts, Carthagin-
ians) in Etruscan art suggests that the relationship was one of convergence rather than of coincidence.
In the second century, there is no evidence for any specifically Etruscan peculiarity in the handling of
external affairs, and the main evidence about the relationships with non-Etruscans comes from the
cultural sphere.
Keywords: Celts; Carthaginians; Hannibalic wars; Romanization
Introduction
From 250 to 90 BCE, the external relationships of Etruria underwent both a process of
radical simplification and a major change in nature.1 Before the military defeat at the
hands of Rome and their incorporation into the latter’s system of unequal alliances,
Etruscan cities had conducted external affairs independently from one another, often
with diverging perspectives and aims. From the point of view of the individual com-
munities, external relationships in the strictest sense concerned not only ethnically
different groups, such as Romans or Gauls, but also other Etruscan cities. Unfortu-
nately, the Romanocentric perspective of Livy’s account of fourth- and early third-
century history does not provide direct evidence for relationships between the Etrus-
can cities, and only allows us to make inferences based on his information about
the diverse and shifting attitudes of each of them towards Rome. However, the well-
known scene from the François Tomb, which features a group of armed companions
led by the Vulcentan hero Avle Vipinas as they conduct a surprise attack on a coali-
tion of enemies from other cities—both Etruscan and non-Etruscan—likely echoes the
fourth-century political constellations in mythological guise.2
1 Harris 1971 still remains the best critical account of Etruria’s history in the Hellenistic period. See
also Torelli 1981, 251–78, as well as the works mentioned in footnotes 2, 12, 16, and 25–27.
2 The bibliography on the François Tomb is vast: in addition to Coarelli 1983 and Buranelli 1987 see,
more recently, Holliday 1993; Steuernagel 1998; Holliday 2002, 63–76; d’Agostino 2003; Andreae 2004;
The establishment of Rome’s hegemony over Etruria in the first quarter of the
third century, followed by its consolidation after the destruction of Volsinii in 264, as
well as its re-foundation as Volsinii Novi, caused Rome to become the main—if not
the only—term of reference for all Etruscan cities in matters both military and politi-
cal. Divisions and differences between Etruscan cities did not disappear, but they
became largely irrelevant. The best piece of evidence for this is the information about
the support given by the communities of central Italy to Scipio Africanus’ campaign
against Carthage in 205:
“First the Etruscan communities promised that they would aid the consul, each
according to its own resources. The men of Caere promised grain for the crews and
supplies of every kind, the men of Populonium iron, Tarquinii linen for sails, Volater-
rae the interior fittings of ships, also grain. Arretium promised three thousand shields,
an equal number of helmets; and that they would furnish a total of fifty thousand
javelins, short spears and lances, with an equal proportion of each type; also axes,
shovels, sickles, baskets and hand-mills, as many as were needed for forty war-ships;
a hundred and twenty thousand pecks of wheat also; and that they would contribute
allowances3 for petty officers and oarsmen. Perusia, Clusium and Rusellae promised
fir for shipbuilding and a great quantity of grain.”3 (see chapter 67 Becker)
As Livy’s text makes clear, each city contributed according to its own craft spe-
cialization and economic capacity. This differentiation, however, which was now put
into the service of Rome’s projects, no longer carried strong implications on the politi-
cal level. Almost paradoxically, from the mid third century onward, treating Etruria
as a unitary historical actor from Rome’s point of view, no longer presents a prob-
lematic distortion as it had previously. It is perhaps not coincidental that precisely
in this period several new representations of Etruscan myths and legends occur in
the archaeological evidence, testifying to a new sense of communal identity. What
is striking is not the occurrence of these myths per se, but the fact that they are not
bound to one particular center. For example, the Vibenna brothers, who appear to be
connected with Vulci in the first place, are also attested in Volsinii, Clusium, Volater-
rae; and so is the seer Cacu, who plays a role in the Vibenna legend and for whom
there is evidence from Perusia, in addition to the cities just mentioned. Similarly, the
anonymous Etruscan “plough hero” is known from both Clusium and Volaterrae. The
diffusion of these myths suggests that it is not their local dimension that matters, but
rather their potential to appeal to a wider Etruscan (if not pan-Etruscan) public.4
Moretti Sgubini 2004; Musti 2005; Briquel 2006; Domenici 2009, 132–55; de Angelis 2015, 195–210 and
references therein.
3 Livy 28.45.15–18 (transl. F.G. Moore).
4 On these myths, see the recent treatment by Domenici 2009; see also, de Grummond 2006; Sclafani
2010, 69–71; de Angelis 2015, 58–50, 86–89, 246–53, 291–98.

1 Reactions to invaders: the Celts and

the Carthaginians
The Etruscan subordination to Rome, however, did not imply the former’s passive
acceptance of the latter’s political and military perspective. We should understand
the relationship to be one of convergence rather than of coincidence. This situation
is especially apparent in the initial phase of the period under consideration, when
the system of relationships was still comparatively new. The most indicative of such
phenomena are the Etruscan reactions to the Celts and the Carthaginians, as they are
attested in both visual and literary sources.
The last third of the third century saw an unprecedented proliferation of images
with Celts, especially in funerary art. Scenes of battles against the Celts, images
showing them plundering a sanctuary and being repelled by divinities, and allego-
ries where Celts or Celtic elements are attributed a symbolic value—such representa-
tions are often attested on the cinerary urns and sarcophagi of northern Etruria, and
especially in Clusium (Figs. 68.1, 68.2).5 Iconographic parallels, especially those of
the Celts as pillagers, are often attested on artifacts from other centers in Italy—most
notably, the ceramic relief vessels from the Latin colony of Cales in Campania and the
frieze of Civitalba in the Marche.6 This coincidence apparently indicates the adhesion
to a Roman point of view by the Etruscans in their definition of the “Other” as threat-
ening, dangerous, and sacrilegious. Particularly so, since the other examples come
from areas that have strong links with Rome. The most eloquent confirmation of such
a hypothesis is to be found in Polybius, where he describes the reactions to the Gallic
invasion in Italy that eventually led to the battle of Talamone in 225:
“There was universal terror in Rome, for the danger threatening them was
believed to be great and formidable. And naturally so: for the old fear of the Gauls
had never been eradicated from their minds. No one thought of anything else: they
were incessantly occupied in mustering the legions, or enrolling new ones, and in
ordering up such of the allies as were ready for service. […] From every side assistance
was eagerly rendered; for the inhabitants of Italy, in their terror at the Gallic invasion,
no longer thought of the matter as a question of alliance with Rome, or of the war as
undertaken to support Roman supremacy, but each people regarded it as a danger
5 Bienkowski 1908, 79–138; Höckmann 1991; Zimmermann 1995; Colonna 2002; Pirson 2005; Kistler
2009, 226–31, 247–56; de Angelis 2015, 173–82.
6 Calenian ceramics: Pagenstecher 1909, 44–48; Höckmann 1991, 208–10; Zimmermann 1995, 101–
102; Kistler 2009, 230–31, 256, 275–82. Civitalba frieze: Bienkowski 1908, 93–104; Andrén 1939–1940,
301–308; Landolfi 1994, 81–84; Kistler 2009, 282–91; Holliday 2009; La Rocca and Parisi Presicce 2010,
249 (M.J. Strazzulla), with further bibliography.

Fig. 68.1.: Sarcophagus with Celtomachy, from Chiusi, last quarter of the third century.
Florence, National Archaeological Museum (Photo SAT 28075)
menacing themselves and their own city and territory. The response to the Roman
appeal therefore was prompt.”7
This passage famously introduces the list of Italian allies of the Romans, includ-
ing a calculation of the amount of troops contributed by each of them—a piece of
information that ultimately goes back to the formula togatorum, the Roman mustering
list, which might have been set up for the first time precisely on this occasion.8 The
Etruscans are mentioned alongside other Italic peoples by Polybius, and appear to be
fully integrated within Rome’s perspective. Particularly significant is the historian’s
reference to the metus Gallicus, the archetypal Roman fear of the Gauls as the danger-
ous enemy par excellence; here it is said to be shared by the Italian allies as well.9
Indeed, the scenes featuring Celts on the Etruscan funerary monuments have a com-
parable emotional charge. They are frightful representations of turmoil and chaotic
events that threaten to disrupt the normal order. The adoption of such an image of
the Celts is all the more significant since Etruscans and Celts had just recently fought
on the same side against the Romans, even though unsuccessfully, at the battles of
Sentinum (295) and lake Vadimo (283).
7 Polyb. 2.23.12–14 (transl. E.S. Shuckburgh).

8 Brunt 1971, 44–60; Ilari 1974; Baronowski 1993.
9 Metus Gallicus: see Bellen 1985; Grünewald 2001.

Fig. 68.2: Cinerary urn with horseman and Celts, last quarter of the third century.
Chiusi, Tomba della Pellegrina (Photo SAT 63632-2.)
As suggested both by Polybius and the monuments, however, the alignment of the
Etruscans with Rome’s perspective was not the only factor at play in their perception
of the enemy. Polybius explicitly states that the Italian socii of the Romans were first
and foremost anxious about their own cities and territories. The acceptance of Rome’s
hegemony was the almost unintended consequence—rather than the cause of—the
emotions triggered by the Celts. Similarly, despite all affinities, many of the Etruscan
funerary monuments display scenes that could hardly be reconciled with what we
know about Roman triumphal imagery. In many cases the represented battles do not
have a clear winner (Fig. 68.1); the uncertainties of fighting rather than the celebra-
tion of victory are their main theme. Moreover, even those scenes that show warri-
ors prevailing over the Celts do not show a univocal laudatory character. The best
example is provided by a series of urns from Chiusi that feature a horseman who is
about to pierce with his spear a kneeling or fallen Celt in front of him. Despite his state
of inferiority, the latter is consistently shown thrusting his sword into the chest of the
horse (Fig. 68.2). The victory of the horseman, therefore, is far from unconditional.
Given that these images were used for female burials just as often as for male ones,

they are unlikely simply to have commemorated the heroic deeds of the deceased.
Rather, they probably served to connote the fears concerning the potential diminish-
ment of one’s status caused by death, in analogy with the loss of the horse, as well
as to implicitly evoke the dangers associated with traveling to the underworld.10 Such
usage of the memory of military events in the sepulchral context in late third-century
Etruria stands in contrast with what we know from coeval Rome. Monuments such as
the frescoed tomb of Fabius (or Fannius) from the Esquiline show much more explicit
affinities with the imagery of the public sphere.11
The differences between Etruria and Rome in visualizing military interactions
with foreigners are at least partially due to the different ways in which autonomy in
external affairs, or the lack thereof, affected the internal political and social situa-
tion. In Rome, success in war entailed immediate and very visible benefits for the city
and the community, and thus represented a major prerequisite for a successful politi-
cal career and the legitimation of status. The same could not have been the case in
allied Etruria, where the victorious outcome of a military endeavor did not contribute
directly to the aggrandizement of one’s own city. This does not mean we can rule out
the possibility that the Etruscan elites used the military sphere to reinforce their social
superiority. Nevertheless, the aforementioned peculiarities in the funerary imagery of
battles clearly suggests that the new order in Etruria made the historical experience
of war available for purposes other than political celebration.
Such a distinction between Roman and Etruscan perspectives with regard to
external relationships can be confirmed by considering the other major military
enterprise on Italian ground in the late third century—that is, the Hannibalic wars.12
In this case, the evidence is literary rather than visual. Direct impact of Hannibal’s
army in Etruria was limited to the very initial phase of the war. The territory of Cortona
was subject to plundering by the Carthaginians and their allies on the occasion of
the battle on the lake Trasimene in 217. Soon thereafter, Hannibal left Etruria and the
region did not witness any further attacks by him. The reasons for his absence from
Etruria are debated. It could either be due to the awareness of Etruria’s basic loyalty to
Rome, or an attempt to ingratiate himself with the Etruscans by keeping the theater of
war away from the region. In any case, Livy reports several episodes in the following
years that suggest Etruscan dissatisfaction with Roman rule.13 Such dissatisfaction
need not have been a widespread one. These episodes should be seen in the context
of the wider challenges that the Carthaginian presence raised against Rome’s hegem-
ony in Italy, and cannot be generalized. Nevertheless, they indicate that Etruscan and
10 For this interpretation, see de Angelis 2015, 188–91.

11 Tomb of the Esquiline: La Rocca 1984; Coarelli 1990, 171–75; Holliday 2002, 83–91; Coarelli 2011,
156–60; 2012.
12 Pfiffig 1966; Harris 1971, 129–44; Diana 1989.
13 See Livy 27.21.6; 27.4; 27.38.6; 28.10.4–5; 29.13; 30.26.12.

Roman perspectives with respect to Hannibal did not coincide. It is quite significant
that no battle scenes involving Carthaginians occur in Etruscan art of the period. The
Punic wars did not trigger fears in Etruria, comparable to the metus Punicus of the
Romans, and consequently, the Etruscans did not perceive the Carthaginians to be
their archetypical enemies as it was the case with the Celts.14 The only Etruscan image
that may be linked to the Hannibalic wars—a numismatic series, mainly found in the
Valdichiana area, with the head of an African on the obverse and an elephant on the
reverse (Colour plate 12)—has been interpreted in diverging ways, as an expression of
either philo-Punic or anti-Punic sentiments.15
On the practical level, however, the distinction of the Etruscan perspective from
Rome’s one did not have major military consequences. As already mentioned, all major
Etruscan cities did contribute to Scipio’s successful expedition to Africa in 205. And
the only other military event for which Etruscan participation is explicitly recorded,
attests to them heroically fighting on the Roman side. This is the siege of Casilinum,
the town near Capua, in 216–215. Troops from Perusia and Praeneste resisted against
Hannibal for several months before negotiating a honorable surrender—an episode
possibly alluded to in the famous funerary inscription of Laris Felsnas, an Etruscan
of northern origins, buried in Tarquinii at the age of 106 years.16 In a sense, there-
fore, the Hannibalic wars represented the litmus test for Etruria’s loyalty to Rome’s
line. It is not by chance that the highest concentration of battle scenes in the funer-
ary art of the Etruscan elites dates to those years, that is, in the last period when an
autonomous stance of the Etruscan cities was conceivable, at least in principle. By
the second century, the military domain does not provide evidence for any Etruscan
peculiarity in their handling of external affairs. Instead, the main evidence for their
relationships with non-Etruscans comes from the cultural sphere.
2 Etruscan culture and foreign cultures

The relevance of the cultural dimension in the Etruscan relationships with foreign-
ers is already evident in the images of enemies discussed above. The proliferation
of Etruscan representations of Celts, as opposed to the complete absence of those of
the Carthaginians, is not simply due to the different perception that the Etruscans
harbored against them. On the other hand, it is also linked to the role of the Celts in
14 Commercial, cultural, and even military relationships of the Etruscans with the Carthaginians are
attested well before the Hellenistic period: see chapter 88 Naso.
15 Robinson 1964, 47–48; Baglione 1976; Catalli 1990, 112–13; Rutter 2001, 26 no. 69; Bergamini 2001,
86–88 nos. 94–99.
16 Siege of Casilinum: Livy 23.17.8–11; 23.19.13–18. On the inscription of Laris Felsnas (ET Ta 1.107), see
Sordi 1989–1990; Benelli 2007, 74–78.

contemporary Greek culture and art. As it is well known, since the early third century,
the Galatian invasions in Greece and Asia Minor had had a profound impact on the
Greek imagination, triggering a flowering of discourses, images, and rituals, which
echoed in many corners of the Mediterranean.17 In fact, the majority of the icono-
graphic features that occur on Etruscan funerary monuments resonate with what we
know of the Greek imagery of that period. It is therefore quite likely that the repre-
sentations of Celtomachies were not simply a way for the Etruscans to express the
emotions related to their own historical experiences; it also allowed them to make
sense of these experiences within the broader ideological and conceptual frame of the
Hellenistic world. In other words, they were a means to establish cultural connectivity
to, and thereby reassert Etruscan participation in, the contemporary Greece-driven
discourse on civilization.
Etruria’s relationship with Greek culture was a long-established fact, and it was by
no means an innovation of the mid Hellenistic age. The new factor here, however, was
the growing role of Rome, which was not only attracting Greek architects and artists
in increasing numbers, but through military expansion and looting it was becoming
the main actor in providing a direct contact with Greek historical art and culture.18
Nonetheless, the degree to which Etruria’s relationship with the Greek world was
conditioned by Rome’s mediation is indeed questionable. It is true, for example, that
several features on the funerary urns from northern Etruria find more or less close
echoes in Rome. Scholars have compared the classicizing tendencies seen in the por-
traiture on Volterran urn lids of the second half of the second century to the so-called
neo-Attic artistic trends in Rome. Similar instances of attenuated pathos, including
the visual formulae connected with revixit-ars-artists, also occur in the figural scenes
on the caskets of the urns.19 More generally, the chosen mythological themes for dec-
orating the urns are broadly comparable to those popular in Roman theater; some
scholars have even postulated an influence of Roman funerary spectacles on corre-
sponding Etruscan practices.20 Even the use of “baroque” and Pergamene stylistic
features has been attributed to the presence of artisans brought to Italy by Roman
generals.21
17 Hannestad 1993; Kremer 1994; Strobel 1994; Marszal 2000; Kistler 2009.
18 The literature on this subject is vast and need not be listed here in full; see, most recently, Wallace-
Hadrill 2008; La Rocca and Parisi Presicce 2010.
19 Massa-Pairault 1973; 1975; Maggiani 1976, 22–27; Massa-Pairault 1977, 159–60; Maggiani 1985, 89–
90; Papini 2004, 477–83. Revixit ars: the allusions are to the famous passage in Plin. HN 34.52 about
the alleged “renaissance” of art in 156 BCE—which, however, refers to bronze sculpture alone (see
Settis 1982, 189–91; contra, Coarelli 1996, 522–26).
20 Massa-Pairault 1985, 202–205; Nielsen 1993, 342–45.
21 See, e.g., Maggiani 1989. On the Etruscan relationship to Pergamene art, see also Dohrn 1961;
Steingräber 2000.

Yet, all these phenomena should be understood in terms of a generic convergence

rather than a direct imitation from Rome. The attenuation of pathos, for example, is
not particularly a feature with Roman origins, but involves more generally Greek Hel-
lenistic art. Moreover, given that there is no systematic and consistent use of classi-
cizing principles detectable on the urns, some of the aforementioned features may be
explained in terms of formal developments internal to the urn workshops.22 Similarly,
many of the myths attested on the urns occur in Etruscan art (as well as in southern
Italian funerary art, for that matter) well before the third century; and the evidence for
Etruscan comparanda to Roman funerary games is scanty at best.
Quite significantly, several elements that count among the most distinctive fea-
tures of the Roman reception of Greek art in this period are absent in Etruria. To name
only the most eloquent examples, second-century Etruscan temple architecture dis-
plays none of the innovations brought about in Rome by the presence of Greek archi-
tects such as Hermodoros of Salamis, the author of the peripteral marble temple of
Jupiter Stator in the Porticus Metelli and of Mars in Circo.23 And conversely, a striking
new feature in Etrusco-Italic architectural decoration, the multi-register composition
of the pediment of Talamone, is not attested in Rome or in any other areas directly
influenced by Rome. Likewise, the increased usage of marble in Roman art and archi-
tecture does not cause intensified exploitation of the Luna quarries by the Etruscans.
While Carrara marble is indeed used for Etruscan Hellenistic monuments, it remains
a local phenomenon and, as its usage is already attested in the Archaic period, it
is clearly not a reaction to Rome’s example.24 Hellenizing features in Etruscan art
should, therefore, not be understood as covert signs of Roman cultural influence, let
alone of Romanization. Rome’s traces in the cultural sphere in Etruria were restricted
to very specific domains, especially in those areas that were in closest contact with
Rome. So, for example, the use of abbreviations in the filiation of onomastic formulae
(i.e., the use of “c.” and “s.” for clan, “son”, and sech, “daughter”) in the funerary
epigraphy of Caere was a direct imitation of Roman conventions, and it is certainly to
be seen in conjunction with the special status of this southern Etruscan city as muni-
cipium sine suffragio, since the fourth century.25
22 See, on the attenuation of pathos (Pathosdämpfung) in portraiture, Giuliani 1986, 200–20;

Fittschen 1991; Papini 2004, 472–73.
23 On the Hellenizing tendencies of late Republican architecture in Rome, see, most recently, Gros
2009; La Rocca and D’Alessio 2011. On Hermorodos of Salamis, see especially Gros 1973; Zevi 1976;
Tortorici 1988; La Rocca 2011, 8–14.
24 Hellenistic marble monuments of northern Etruria: Bonamici 1985; 1991. On the use of marble in
Etruria more generally, see especially Andrén 1967; Bonamici 1989; 1990; and, most recently, Maggiani
2004, 152–64 (with further bibliography).
25 See Sordi 1960; Harris 1971, 45–47; Humbert 1972; Kaimio 1975, 95; Galsterer 1976, 70-84; Humbert
1978; Torelli 2000; Aigner-Foresti 2004, 224–27.

This relative autonomy from Rome with respect to Etruria’s cultural relationships
with Greece, however, does not imply any serious form of resistance on the part of
the Etruscans. The colonies and prefectures founded on former Etruscan territory,
the consular roads that ran through Etruria, and the individual enfranchisements of
Etruscans—and their occasional acceptance into the Roman senate—were all factors
that contributed to a growing integration.26 The Etruscan opposition to the laws of
M. Livius Drusus in 91, on the eve of the Social War, was mainly directed against
the possibility of a redistribution of land, and does not seem to have been driven by
considerations concerning Roman citizenship. As a matter of fact, even though the
Etruscans appear to have joined the rebels for a short time in 90, they readily (if not
“happily,” as stated by Appian) accepted Roman citizenship under the conditions of
the lex Julia de civitate.27 From that point on, the history of the Etruscan cities became
an integral part of the history of the Roman state, and their external relationships
only survived in the domain of historical commemoration.28
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V. Topography of Etruria
Philip Perkins
69 The landscape and environment of Etruria
Abstract: Etruria, homeland of the Etruscans, lies on the western coast of Italy to the north of Rome
between the Tiber and the Arno rivers. This hilly region is defined by its low-lying coast and the rugged
Apennine mountains to the north and east. Since the Etruscan period the sea level is little changed
but there has been significant soil erosion modifying the hills and valleys. The climate in the Etruscan
period was similar to today’s but human action has modified the vegetation cover. To conclude, the
major landscape zones of Etruria are briefly described.
Keywords: geology, mountain, river, drainage basin, enviroment
1 General location
Etruria, homeland of the Etruscans, lies on the western coast of Italy to the north of
Rome (Fig. 69.1). Its approximate boundary to the south and west is the Tiber River,
which flows from Monte Fumaiolo in the Casentino through northern Umbria past
Perugia and Orvieto and then to Rome and the sea at Ostia. To the north, Etruria is
approximately bounded by the Arno River flowing from Monte Falterona past Flor-
ence and Pisa to the sea. To the west, Etruria is washed by the Tyrrhenian Sea, part
of the Mediterranean Sea enclosed between Italy and the large islands of Sardinia,
Corsica, and Sicily. Off shore lies the Tuscan archipelago, an arc of small islands
the largest of which are Giglio, Elba, and Capraia. These, along with Corsica, are all
visible from the mainland.
In general terms, the sea level along the coast of Etruria over the past 4,000 years
has been stable, with an estimated change in effective sea level from approximately
–2.0 m to –1.0 m below present levels, between 4,000 and 2,000 years before the pre-
sent.1 Compared to the contemporary coastline, sea levels not much more than 1.0 m
lower than present will have created only localized differences in the shoreline or sus-
ceptibility to inundation, given that the tidal range in the Tyrrhenian Sea is approxi-
mately 0.4 m. Sea currents tend to circulate clockwise around the Tyrrhenian Sea.
1 Lambeck, Antonioli, Purcell, and Silenzi 2004; Lambeck, Anzidei, Antonioli, Benini, and Esposito
2004; Antonioli et al. 2009; 2011; Biserni and Van Geel 2005.
1240 Philip Perkins
Fig. 69.1: Altitude and mountains in Etruria
2 Geology and Geomorphology

The northern part of the Italian peninsula was shaped by two ongoing geological
processes. In the Mesozoic period (approximately 250 million–56 million years ago),
sedimentary rocks formed in the Tethys Sea which lay between landmasses that were
to become the continents of Europe and Africa. Toward the end of this period, the
tectonic collision of the African and European plates caused these rocks to be formed
into mountains, and a complex process of folding and faulting created the Apennine
Mountains. As part of this process, the earth’s crust to the west of the Apennines was
stretched and fractured in a series of faults that created the northwest-to-southeast

69 The landscape and environment of Etruria 1241
ridges and valleys that provide structure to the Eastern parts of Etruria, through
which now flow the Tiber, Arno, and the Val di Chiana. These separate the Apennine
mountains from the mountains of Tuscany and Lazio that are sometimes called the
Pre-Apennines or Anti-Apennines.
In the southern part of Etruria, this basic structure is overlaid by volcanic hills
and plains created by a sequence of volcanic activity between 600,000 and 90,000
years ago. Although now extinct, the volcanoes are still visible in the landscape. The
Alban hills south of Rome preserve the typical conical shape of volcanoes, and lakes
now fill their calderas at the mountaintops. In southern Etruria, volcanic lakes and
the remains of volcanoes punctuate the landscape at Lake Bracciano, Lake Vico and
Lake Bolsena. These craters are surrounded by a thick layer of pyroclastic flows and
ash deposits that have formed the tufo rock characteristic of the region that extends
over most of the lower Tiber valley and southern Etruria as far north as the Fiora
River.2
Farther to the north, in the center of Etruria but easily visible from Siena, is
another older and larger extinct volcano, Monte Amiata, the highest point in Etruria
(1,738 m). Yet older volcanism is responsible for the volcanic dome of the Tolfa Moun-
tains (579 m) and the islands of Elba, Capraia, and granitic Giglio. Much of the remain-
ing hilly areas of Tuscany are a complex mixture of Pliocene and Miocene clays, sand-
stones and marls, and Triassic schists. These were originally marine or lacustrine
deposits, which were subsequently folded, faulted, and uplifted by tectonic activity.
The tectonic processes that have formed Etruria are still active, and earth tremors
are common. However, in historic times, destructive tectonic activity (8+ on the Mer-
calli scale) has been rare outside the mountainous Apennine regions that form the
boundaries of Etruria.3 Less intense earth movements can cause severe damage in
insubstantial stone and mud-brick Etruscan-type buildings and cause death and
injury, but destructive or violent earthquakes are very unlikely to have been a signifi-
cant cause of widespread devastation or socio-political change in Etruria.
The relatively soft geology of much of Etruria, along with torrential seasonal
rainfall, has created a highly eroded landscape in many areas. Since the Pleisto-
cene Period, ravines and canyons have formed in the relatively level volcanic tufo
landscape of southern Etruria. In other parts of Tuscany, erosion and gullying of soft
limestones, sandstones, clays, and marls, particularly when landscapes are defor-
ested, has created steep V-shaped valleys and dissected ranges of hills. Nearer the
coasts and in wider valley bottoms, the eroded material has accumulated as thick,
level deposits of colluvium (hillwash) and alluvial deposits (river-borne silts). In
many areas, mixed deposits of clays with other rock types create ideal conditions for
landslips, particularly in areas of steep slopes or already eroded land. These actively
2 Narcisi and Anselmi 1998.

3 Guidoboni et al. 2007.

1242 Philip Perkins
eroding landscapes have led to the filling of valley bottoms, so that they typically
have steeply sloping sides and wide, flat bottoms. Repeated phases of deposition and
down-cutting have often caused series of river terraces to be created on the flanks of
the valleys. Such erosion has been accelerated over the past 5,000 years due to human
action causing deforestation, which is often linked to agricultural activity or demand
for timber. As a result, the presence of ancient sites in valley bottoms is highly likely
to masked by later deposits that have prevented their discovery by techniques such as
field survey and aerial photography. Landscape change of this type could well mean
that sites from the early Etruscan period are underrepresented in the archaeological
record because they have not been detected beneath thick layers of river sediment.4 A
further effect of this erosion has been the creation of small river deltas at the mouths
of the Tiber, Ombrone, and Arno.
3 Environmental change and vegetation

The climate, environment and vegetation in the Etruscan period were generally
similar to those of the present day. The most significant difference has been caused
by extensive clearance of lowland forested areas for agricultural purposes in the
Roman and especially recent periods. This has been followed by soil erosion on
hills and slopes. Another important change has been the draining of coastal areas,
in the first half of the twentieth century, which has dried up coastal lagoons and
marsh land and enabled the cultivation of areas that were previously pasture or
uncultivated land.
The Tuscan climate is characterized by its strong seasonality with hot dry
summers and cooler humid winters and most rain in spring and fall, but it varies
considerably, particularly with altitude.5 Lower areas have a typical Mediterranean
climate, but higher land has a more temperate climate (see Table 1).6
Evidence from lake cores, pollen records, and glacier advances suggests that
Tuscany, in common with western Europe, experienced a cooler and wetter period in
the first half of the first millennium BCE that was similar to current conditions and
was followed by a warmer and dryer period until the third century CE.7 This climatic
variation drove changes in the natural vegetation in the Etruscan period with an
increase in the proportion of turkey oaks (Quercus cerris) and pines (Pinus sylvestris)
and a decrease in the proportion of the more drought-tolerant holm oaks (Quercus
ilex) and downy oaks (Quercus pubescens). These changes need to be seen in the
4 Hunt 1998; Sadori, Jahns and Peyron 2011.

5 Biondi and Baldoni 1994.
6 Adapted from Blasi et al. 1999.
7 Drescher-Schneider et al. 2007; Magny et al. 2007.

Table 1: Climatic and vegetation zones (adapted from Blasi et al. 1999, table 2 and Bartolini et al.
2008, table 1).
Zone Mean Mean Mean Rainfall Dry Vegetation Type

tempera- Summer tempe- (mm) Period
ture (°C) tempera- rature in
ture (°C) coldest
month (°C)
Coastal 15.5 26 3.5 616– 3–6 Maquis, mixed Mediter

826 months oak / holm ranean
oak / cork oak
woods
Hilly areas 15 28.5 3 813– 3 Maquis, turkey Mediter

near coast 1000 months oak / mixed ranean
oak / holm
oak / cork oak
woods
Hilly 14 26 1 962– 2 Chestnut Transitional

interior 1189 months woods, turkey
oak / mixed
oak / holm oak
woods
Higher 13 26 1 1156– 1 Beech woods, Temperate

hilly 1397 month chestnut
woods, turkey
oak / mixed
oak / holm oak
woods
Lower 11 21.5 1 1159– 0 Mixed deci- Temperate

mountain 1447 months duous woods,
beech woods,
chestnut
woods, mixed
oak / holm oak
woods, spanish
broom
shrublands
Upper 7.5 21.5 –3 1430– 0 Beech woods, Temperate

mountain 1586 months high altitude
shrublands,
mixed deci-
duous woods

1244 Philip Perkins
context of a general reduction in tree cover that was caused by human activity from
the Bronze Age onward. At the same time, there was an increase in the proportions
of Mediterranean scrub (Fr. maquis, It. macchia) plants, such as juniper (Juniperus),
and tree heather (Erica arborea), which are useful for making charcoal. Alongside
these changes there was an increase in the proportion of economically important cul-
tivated and wild plants, particularly the olive (Olea europaea), vines (Vitis vinifera),
sweet chestnuts (Castanea sativa), walnuts (Juglans), and hazel (Corylus avellana),
matched by an increase in weeds of cultivation.8 Modern introductions, now common
in Tuscany and Lazio, such as acacias, sunflowers, maize (corn), and tomatoes, would
not have featured in the Etruscan landscape.
4 Regions, districts, and land forms
4.1 Coastal zone
The coast of Etruria forms a sub-region known as the Maremma. It is character-

ized by a low-lying coastal strip that rapidly transitions to steep hills, which would
have been wooded, as most are now. Flatter areas of land only occur in the flanks
of the river valleys where Pliocene or Pleistocene river terraces survive at a higher
level than the contemporary river flood plains. Along the coastline, sea currents
have created sandbars and coastal dunes parallel to the coast that caused lagoons
to form. Together, in the Etruscan period, the river mouths and lagoons created an
environment along the coast consisting of marshy areas and stretches of shallow
brackish water that made the coastal strip narrower than at present. Few lagoons
now survive, due to silting up as a result of soil erosion and human land drainage
and reclamation activities. Only at Orbetello and Lake Massaciuccoli, near Pisa, are
they of any size, but in Etruscan times the lagoons extended along much of the
coast and were particularly extensive around the mouths of the Albegna and the
Ombrone (ancient Lake Prile) and Pisa. At the mouth of the Ombrone, landscape
change caused by the desiccation of Lake Prile has significantly affected the local
environment of the hilltop Etruscan cities of Vetulonia and Roselle, which were for-
merly close to the shores of the extensive lagoon and are now much farther from
access to the sea.9 The low-lying coastal strip is divided into discrete areas at regular
intervals where hills meet the sea directly. At Civitavecchia, the Tolfa hills close off
the coastal strip that runs northward from the mouth of the Tiber. Continuing north,
8 Colombaroli, Marchetto, and Tinner 2007; Costantini et al. 2009; Drescher-Schneider et al. 2007;
Mariotti Lippi et al. 2007; Sadori, Mercuri, and Mariotti Lippi 2010.
9 Bellotti et al. 2004.

Monte Argentario and Poggio di Léccio separate the coastal strip around Tarquinia
and Vulci from the Albegna Valley, which in turn is separated from the Ombrone
valley by the Monti dell’Uccellina, and the pattern of alternating stretches of flat
coastland and hill continues up the coast of Tuscany.
4.2 Mountains
Other than the sea, the dominant geographic feature that defines Etruria is the arc
of the Apennine mountains that encloses Etruria (Fig. 69.1). To the north and east,
these high, rugged limestone mountains separate Etruria from the Po Valley and con-
tinental Europe and from the eastern coastline of Italy and the Adriatic Sea. To the
south of the Tiber River, limestone mountains and the volcanic Alban Hills rise to
between 1,000 and 2,000 m, completing the arc of mountains that surrounds Etruria.
Although the Apennines rise to between 1,500 and 3,000 m, there are many passes
below 1,000 m which provide crossing points in the mountain chain. Even if the Arno
and Tiber Rivers form the traditional boundaries of Etruria, it is the mountains that
define the region and local ecosystems.
In the northwest of Etruria, the Alpi Apuane rise steeply to nearly 2,000 m within
4 km of the sea. From there, the Apennines continue eastward, forming the north-
ern flank of the Arno Valley. To the north of Florence, the upper reaches of the Sieve
River form an upland basin, the Mugello, between the folds of the mountains, which
creates a micro region between the Arno and the Po Valley to the north. Farther to the
southwest, the upper reaches of the Arno Valley constitute the Casentino, a similar,
inaccessible, mountain basin. The upper reaches of the Tiber, forming the traditional
boundary of Etruria, also flow between high mountains. In contrast, Monte Amiata,
in the center of Etruria, does not act in the same way as a barrier: river valleys tend to
radiate from the mountain.
4.3 Drainage basins
Inland from the coast, Etruria is typically hilly. In southern Etruria the volcanic tufo
created a level plateau that has subsequently been eroded by torrential rivers creat-
ing deep ravines leaving long, narrow, and flat fingers of land between (Fig. 69.2).
This landscape is characteristic of the areas around Viterbo and to the north of Rome.
Farther north, the hills are dissected by steep valley slopes, and the only flat areas are
valley bottoms.
In Etruria, the major river valleys of the Tiber, Ombrone, and Arno define the
topography and natural divisions of the land. The Tiber drainage basin dominates
the territories of the ancient cities of Rome, Caere, Veii, Orvieto, and Perugia. Large
stretches of the river were navigable, perhaps as far inland as Orvieto. On the Etrus-

1246 Philip Perkins
Fig. 69.2: Drainage basins in Etruria
can bank of the river, a series of small rivers drains from the extinct volcanoes cutting
across the tufo plateaus either into the Tiber to the east or into the sea. The largest of
these, the Arrone River, flows from the caldera lake of Bracciano to the sea between
the mouth of the Tiber and Caere. Farther north, the Marta River drains the lake of
Bolsena, which is otherwise enclosed by the volcanic crater rim of the Volsini Moun-
tains, into the sea near Tarquinia. Northeast of the lake, near Orvieto, the Paglia River,
the largest tributary of the Tiber, flows from the slopes of Monte Amiata in the center
of Etruria to join the Tiber. The Paglia Valley rapidly narrows as the terrain becomes
more mountainous. The Tiber itself flows from the east, cutting down from its wide
valley in the folds of the Apennines which cross Umbria from northwest to southeast
(Fig. 69.3).

Fig. 69.3: Major sites in Etruria (Rome and Ostia in Latium vetus)
To the west the minor rivers flow from the volcanic mountains toward the sea in
a generally northeast-to-southwest direction. The Fiora River rises on the southern
slopes of Monte Amiata, flowing toward Vulci and the sea, approximately marking
the boundary between the volcanic areas of southern and sedimentary areas of north-
ern Etruria. Slightly farther west, the Albegna River flows from Monte Labbro to the

1248 Philip Perkins
sea just to the north of the Lagoon of Orbetello. The Ombrone is much larger and in
the Etruscan period drained much of northern Etruria into Lake Prile, now dry, which
lay in the plains around Grosseto. The Ombrone rises deep in the interior of Etruria
near Siena and takes a winding route through the dissected and eroded landscape of
Etruria’s interior. Its many tributaries drain the northern slopes of Monte Amiata, the
hills of Chianti, and the Colline Metallifere, creating a very extensive but heterogene-
ous drainage basin that incorporates much of central Etruria.
Northern Etruria is defined by the Arno River. It rises in the Apennines and flows
south, only to loop back toward the north enclosing the Prato Magno, a hilly area
of woodlands and upland summer pastures. The river flows north through a wide
and deep valley to the east of the Chianti hills. The convoluted course of the river
was determined by a series of geomorphological changes in the drainage pattern of
central Etruria. Initially, the Arno flowed south past Chiusi through the Val di Chiana
to become a tributary of the Tiber flowing from the north of Etruria. In the Pleistocene,
this route reversed due to silting, and the Arno subsequently flowed north toward
Florence. The Val Di Chiana is still a significant valley in central Etruria, and in the
Etruscan period it was marshy and contained shallow lakes; now only the small Lake
Chiusi and Lake Montepulciano have survived modern drainage schemes. Slightly to
the west, between the Val Di Chiana and Perugia, is Lake Trasimene. At over 125 km²
it is the largest lake in peninsular Italy, but it is extremely shallow (4 m deep), and its
level—and therefore its size—fluctuates with varying rainfall: it is likely to have been
larger in the Etruscan period.
Returning to the Arno, at Florence the river flows into a wide, flat-bottomed rift
valley which is now largely occupied by Florence, Prato, and Pistoia, but was, in
Etruscan times, dominated by Fiesole in the east and the newly discovered urban set-
tlement at Gonfienti in the center. To the southeast, the Arno cuts through the ridge
of the Chianti hills and Monte Albano and flows east toward Pisa and the sea. This
lower stretch of the Arno flows through a wide valley that in historic times has been
susceptible to flooding. Between Empoli and Montecatini lie the Fucécchio marshes,
a former lake, and in the Etruscan period a branch of the Sérchio River (the ancient
Auser) flowed into the Arno near Biéntina, creating an extensive marshy area. The
low-lying area around Pisa would have been marshy with coastal lagoons in the Etrus-
can period, and today only Lake Massaciuccoli survives to the west of Lucca, near
where the Sérchio now flows into the sea. To the south of the Arno the parallel Era and
Elsa Rivers flow from the southeast to the northwest, connecting Siena and Volterra
to the Arno Valley.
To the East of Volterra, the Cécina River flows directly to the Tyrrhenian Sea. The
Cécina, along with the smaller Córnia, Pécora, and Bruna, drain from the Colline
Metallífere into the sea, rapidly transitioning from steeply sloped valleys to the flat
coastal strip. In the Etruscan period, the Bruna flowed into Lake Prile, along with the
Ombrone.

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Andrea Zifferero
70 Southern Etruria
Abstract: Southern Etruria is the region between the Tyrrhenian coast and the right bank of the Tiber.
It includes Veii, Caere, Tarquinii, the Faliscan and Capenate ager, Vulci and Vulcian territory as far as
the Albegna Valley, Volsinii and the southwest area of Lake Bolsena centered around Bisenzio, and
finally, Perugia and the Tiber Valley. The geomorphology of the region—with an accessible coastline
with numerous landings and tufa plateaus of 150 or more hectares—encouraged the formation of
cities and the development of important ports. Systematic excavations have identified Final Bronze
Age and Early Iron Age settlements with proto-urban characteristics on tufa plateaus surrounded by
outcrops with necropolises. Beginning in the second half of the eighth century BCE, settlements devel-
oped from proto-urban centers into historic cities, with the definitive organization of plateaus that
were fortified in exposed areas, and elaborate necropolises, including fossa tombs, chamber tombs,
and tumuli that reflected the gentilicial structure of resident communities. Aristocracies were clearly
dominant in this period. Excavations have highlighted the flourishing of minor settlements in city-
controlled territories, imitating Etruscan cities on a minor scale with plateaus of 5–10 ha and nearby
necropolises. Between the Late Orientalizing and the Archaic periods, the progressive development
of crafts, together with the increasing population of the countryside, supported the significant pro-
duction of cereals, wine, and oil. These phenomena hint at the rise of social classes associated with
agricultural production, manufacturing, and trade, which weakened aristocratic power and brought
about major changes in the structure of the Tyrrhenian cities. Between the mid sixth and mid fifth
centuries, these classes were governed by tyrant-kings who transformed the cities, introducing new
cults and renovating the sanctuaries. The crises experienced by the coastal southern Etruscan cities
from the middle of the fifth century brought urban social unrest until the power of the aristocracy was
restored in the fourth century. During the fourth and third centuries, Roman expansion into Etruria
caused the destruction and depopulation of most Etruscan cities. In some cases communities were
transferred to other, less protected sites. During the Early Imperial period, the region declined and
eventually became part of the Augustan Regio VII.
Keywords: Southern Etruria; cities and territory; urban plateau; necropolises; sanctuaries
Introduction
The concept of Southern Etruria as a defined area has been officially invoked in con-
nection with the protection of antiquities in the Provinces of Rome and Viterbo, under
the jurisdiction of the Soprintendenza Archeologia dell’Etruria Meridionale e del
Lazio. In L’antica Etruria marittima compresa nella dizione pontificia: descritta e illu-
strata coi monumenti (1846), however, Luigi Canina also described an area bordered
on the east by the Tiber and on the north by the Fiora Valley as Etruria marittima.1
1 Camporeale 2005; on the late-Roman administrative distinction between Tuscia annonaria and
Tuscia suburbicaria see Solari 1915–20, 63–68; on the boundaries of regio VII Etruria, created after the
reorganization of Italy carried out by Augustus, see De Laurenzi 2007, 67–77.
In this chapter the term denotes the area stretching from the Tyrrhenian coast to the
right bank of the Tiber, including Veii, Caere, Tarquinii, the ager Faliscus and Capena,
Vulci and Vulcian territory as far as the Albegna Valley, and Volsinii and the south-
west area of Lake Bolsena, centered around Bisenzio; Perugia and the Tiber Valley are
also briefly discussed.
The region has remarkable geomorphology. The most favorable area for settle-
ment is the Tyrrhenian plain, which extends approximately 120 km from the mouth of
the Tiber to Monte Argentario behind a long, low strip of sand. The many lagoons in
the landscape were originally fed by rivers that flowed at right angles to the coast, cre-
ating sheltered moorings; when the openings were obstructed, they became coastal
salt lakes with abundant fish.2
Besides Pyrgi and Gravisca, the most famous ports are found on the coast near
Vulci, just north of the Albegna River. An Etruscan port (Portus Telamonis) with strong
emporic features has been recognized behind Talamone, at Puntata di Fonteblanda,
which now overlooks a filled lagoon connected with the settlement of Doganella.
Ports farther south, at the mouth of the Chiarone, at Pescia Romana, and in the local-
ity Le Murelle (Regae), suggest extensive coastal organization. A lagoon basin has
also been hypothesized southeast of Caere overlooking the port of Alsium, which is
noted in ancient sources together with Pyrgi and Punicum. The whole coast, however,
is dominated by the wide mouth of the Tiber. In the Roman period, the river was navi-
gable as far as Orvieto, connecting Rome, Veii, and even the Faliscan and Capenate
territories with Mediterranean trade routes.3
Inland, volcanic activity (at what are now Lakes Bolsena, Vico and Bracciano,
Albano, and Nemi) has created excellent settlement conditions. Quaternary eruptions
spread tufa, a compact, carbon-rich stone, easily excavated and hewn, between the
Tiber Valley and the Ernici mountains. The deposition of tufa on clay and limestone,
which is vulnerable to surface water and therefore unstable, has created a complex
mosaic of wide tufa uplands resting on furrowed surfaces, typically with gently
sloping sides, which are well-suited to intensive and extensive cultivation.4 These
plateaus measure 100–150 ha or more and provided favorable conditions for the for-
mation of cities in the final phases of the Bronze Age. The plateaus of Caere, Tarquinii,
and Vulci stand between 5 and 12 km from the coast and are surrounded by rocky
outcrops (of marine origin at Tarquinii, but equally workable) that encouraged the
excavation of wide necropolises with tumuli and chamber tombs.5 Small inland tufa
uplands (between 5 and 10 ha) were systematically occupied, first in the Final Bronze
2 Spivey and Stoddart 1990, 21–7; Barocca 2012.

3 See chapter 23 Michetti; Ciampoltrini and Rendini 2012; Morselli and Tortorici 1985; Casi and
Celuzza 2000; Enei 2001, 52–55; Bruschetti 2008.
4 See chapter 69 Perkins; Spivey and Stoddart 1990, 21–33; Barker and Rasmussen 2000, 10–22.
5 See chapter 33 Pacciarelli; Barker and Rasmussen 1998, 25–42; Pacciarelli 2001, 128–79.

70 Southern Etruria 1253
Age and then again in the Late Iron Age, by Etruscan settlements that were typical
in particular of the area of the rock-cut tombs to the west of Lake Vico extending to
the Biedano basin. Here, an upper class emerged that was effectively an aristocracy,
whose members reproduced on a minor scale the processes already occurring in the
cities, controlling minor settlements and the surrounding countryside through the
formation of large estates worked by the lower classes and slaves.6
“Territorial states” are characteristic of Southern Etruria, where the cities exer-
cised strong pressure on the surrounding countryside beginning in the Iron Age.
Between the eighth and seventh centuries, they consolidated political and economic
control over the countryside, imposing agreements and federations on minor centers
and defining boundaries and spheres of influence. Massive population growth in
southern rural areas is attested between the late seventh and early sixth century, as
small settlements occupied arable land. This was the basis for the start of the Etrus-
can trade in agricultural products, particularly wine and oil for perfumes and oint-
ments, which would reach ports and emporia in the western Mediterranean.7 In the
Archaic period, the territorial states were challenged by the growth of a middle class
of artisans and merchants that was protected by regimes with tyrannical connota-
tions, but they endured until the end of the sixth or the first half of the fifth century,
when symptoms of a grave social and productive crisis appear that had serious conse-
quences for the countryside and control of trade routes and effectively paved the way
for Roman military and economic expansion.8
1 Veii and the Faliscan and Capenate territories

Veii (Etr. *Vei) is the Etruscan city most often mentioned in Roman sources. It domi-
nated the middle and lower Tiber Valley and was essentially a mirror of Rome on the
opposite bank of the river. The first historical events, set in the time of Romulus and
the conquest of the ager Romanus Antiquus, concern the political structure of the city
and feature regal figures shrouded in legend, such as Morrius and Propertius, or his-
torical personalities such as Lars Tolumnius, king in 438 (Fig. 70.1).9
Conflict with Rome began in the eighth century and aimed at control of the right
bank and mouth of the Tiber, the latter with valuable salt and moorings. Romulus
6 See chapter 72 Zifferero; Iaia and Mandolesi 2010; Mandolesi 2012.

7 Cifani 2003, 175–206; Atti Marseille 2006; Barbieri, Ciacci, and Zifferero 2010, 107–20; Zifferero 2012.
8 Cerchiai 2012.
9 Torelli 1993, 7–48; Cristofani 2000a, s.v. Veio; Cifani 2005; Boitani 2008a; Cascino, Patterson, and
Di Giuseppe 2012; van Kampen 2012, with references.

70.01
Va
chl
et
ta 13
10
11
5 6
12
Pi
or
do
2
7
17
8
3 9
16
4
Va
lch
ett
a
0 2 km
Proto-historic settlement 1 - Riserva del Bagno 9 - Macchia della Comunità

2 - Pozzuolo 10 - Picazzano
Proto-historic and 3 - Isola Farnese 11 - Quattro Fontanili
Etruscan settlement 4 - Monte Campanile 12 - Vaccareccia
5 - Casale del Fosso 13 - Monte Michele
Proto-historic necropolis 6 - Grotta Gramiccia 14 - Portonaccio
7 - Casalaccio 15 - Campetti
Etruscan necropolis 8 - Valle La Fata 16 - Piazza d'Armi
17 - Piano di Comunità
Sanctuary
Fig. 70.1: Simplified distribution of archaeological evidence (quoted in the text), on the plateau
and in the suburban area of Veii (drawing by the author)

expanded Roman territory by annexing the septem pagi district; for a long time,
Trastevere and the Janiculum area were considered frontiers with Etruria.10
Research has identified a complex system of settlements (fortified with ditches
and aggeres) between the Late Iron Age and the Orientalizing period. Some, such as
the oppida of Colle Sant’Agata at Monte Mario and that on the Janiculum, known only
through literary sources, were real outposts resisting Rome. Others were distributed
in a line joining the settlements of Torre di Prima Porta on the Via Tiberina, Colle
Ospedaletto, Acquafredda on the Via Aurelia, and Monte Roncione, to form a border
controlled by the Etruscan city.11
Veii stood on a plateau of 185 ha. Recent investigations have identified a core
group of Final Bronze Age habitations on the small plain of Isola Farnese, which in the
late phase of the period appear to have expanded to the major neighboring upland,
which was bordered by the Valchetta (the ancient Cremera) and the Piordo streams.
Final Bronze Age tombs at Casale del Fosso and Quattro Fontanili imply intensive
occupation.12
In the Early Iron Age, Veii underwent extraordinary development, indicated by
the reception of Middle and Late Geometric Greek pottery. Necropolises at Casale del
Fosso, Grotta Gramiccia, and Quattro Fontanili reflect a stratified community that
intensively occupied the plateau and buried its dead in distinct cemeteries. Exca-
vations conducted by Gilda Bartoloni at Piazza d’Armi since 1996 have clarified the
development of an elite section of the community between the ninth and fifth cen-
turies. Two Early Iron Age burials of young men have been found. The first lay in a
curvilinear hut resembling a “funerary chapel,” possibly to honor an ancestor, and
was respected until a reorganization of the area in the mid seventh century. At this
time the site changed drastically through the construction of new buildings aligned
with orthogonal roads. Between the late seventh and the first half of the sixth century,
a small oikos temple (excavated by Enrico Stefani in 1922), clearly continuous with the
ancient “funerary chapel,” was built, as well as other buildings that are still being
studied and are likely to have had a residential and cult function. The site was further
transformed from the middle of the sixth century, with the rebuilding of roads and
the erection of craft structures, until its abandonment between the fifth and fourth
centuries.13
A defensive embankment from the first half of the eighth century has been brought
to light at the northwestern gate. In the southern part of the plateau, at the Piano di
Comunità, excavations following those by Rodolfo Lanciani in the late nineteenth
century have recently uncovered a building atop a row of Orientalizing houses and
10 Ampolo 1987; Zifferero 2002; Camporeale 2005; Cifani 2005; Damiani and Pacciarelli 2006.
11 Liverani 1996; De Santis 1997; Cifani 2005; Damiani and Pacciarelli 2006.
12 Bartoloni 1997; Pacciarelli 2001, 159–65; Babbi 2005.
13 Boitani 2005; Bartoloni 2009; 2011; Bartoloni et al. 2011; Bartoloni and Acconcia 2012.

Iron Age huts. The presence of a Iuno Regina sanctuary in the area has been hypoth-
esized thanks to Late Archaic architectural terra-cottas. On the east and south slopes
of the hill, structures dating from the second half of the seventh to the beginning of
the fifth century that include cisterns, ditches, and kilns for pottery and votives can
be interpreted as parts of Veii’s main craft quarter.14
Necropolises placed around the fortified plateau indicate that the community
grew consistently in the Orientalizing and Archaic periods. Tufa opus quadratum
walls with gates were erected in the sixth century. From the northwest to the north-
east, necropolises are located at Riserva del Bagno, Casale del Fosso, Grotta Gramic-
cia, Picazzano, Quattro Fontanili, Monte Michele, and Vaccareccia; and in the south-
west, at Valle La Fata, Monte Campanile, Macchia della Comunità, Casalaccio and
Pozzuolo. Those in the former group have more complex funerary architecture and
grave goods. Fossa and a caditoia tombs with loculi for inhumations and grave goods
become popular between the Late Iron Age and the Orientalizing period, with aris-
tocratic males cremated at Monte Michele. In the latter group, in contrast, mid-level
burials are attested from the middle of the seventh century.15
Funerary architecture included exceptional examples of painted chamber
tombs, some with animals inspired by Etrusco-Geometric pottery (e.g. the Tomb of
the Roaring Lions at Grotta Gramiccia, dated to 690, and the Tomb of the Ducks at
Riserva del Bagno, dated to the last years of the first quarter of the seventh century).
The Campana Tomb at Monte Michele is special, with two axial chambers within the
tumulus decorated with images of figures on horses and on foot accompanied by fan-
tastic animals and wall-hung shields. The paintings stylistically resemble Etrusco-
Corinthian works and can thus be dated to the end of the seventh century.16
Several monumental tumuli date from the Middle and Late Orientalizing periods.
They are generally set in suburban areas, near roads leaving the city (e.g. the tumulus
at Vaccareccia or Monte Aguzzo, 5 km from the urban plateau). Funerary habits
changed in the sixth and fifth centuries with the introduction of chamber tombs with
a great trench, entrance steps, and loculi carved in the walls to hold vases of cremated
ashes, with very poor or even no grave goods. The phenomenon can be explained by
the adoption of sumptuary laws aimed at limiting ostentatious funerals, comparable
with those of contemporary Rome.17
Veii is known above all for its cult places. The suburban Portonaccio sanctuary,
built on a terrace facing the Piordo stream, was discovered in 1914 by Ettore Gabrici
and then excavated repeatedly until 1997. The site was in use from the mid seventh
14 Boitani 2008b; Colonna 2004; Cascino and Di Sarcina 2005; Bartoloni 2009, 65–123; Ambrosini
and Belelli Marchesini 2010; Belelli Marchesini 2011; Bartoloni and Benedettini 2011.
15 Bartoloni 1997; Bartoloni et al. 1997; Boitani 1997; De Santis 1997; 2003; van Kampen 2003, 67–99.
16 Rizzo 1989a; Boitani 2010; Boitani, Neri, and Biagi 2010; Brocato 2012.
17 De Santis 1997; 2003; Bartoloni, Michetti, and van Kampen 2012.

century and first hosted an open-air oracular cult of Menerva and other female divini-
ties. The sacred area held a shrine and altar as well as a huge quantity of offerings
(including Etrusco-Corinthian and bucchero pottery, and terracotta statues and
votives); the importance of the oracle explains the attendance of worshipers from
many south Etruscan centers, such as Caere, Vulci, Castro, and Volsinii. A great Tus-
canic temple built in the late sixth century beside a large ritual pool had three cellae
and two columns in antis. The temple decorations included several grand acroterial
statues in an Ionian style, depicting and thus suggesting the worship of Tinia/Jupiter,
Apollo, and Hercle, as well as an outstanding array of revetment tiles and antefixes to
protect the wooden heads of the columen and mutuli. The decorations were made by
craftsmen directed by the “Maestro dell’Apollo,” who, according to Giovanni Colonna,
can be identified as the “veiente esperto di coroplastica” whom Tarquinius Superbus
commissioned to work on the Jupiter Capitoline temple at Rome a few years before
509. The complex underwent further modifications in the fifth century and remained
in use until after the Roman conquest, when the temple was dismantled and the
votives and terra-cotta decorations were buried; the Menerva cult, however, lasted
until the second century.18 Several places in the city, particularly near the gates, are
also characterized by cult places, including those at Porta Caere, Macchiagrande, and
Campetti, which is known for substantial deposits of votive offerings in connection
with the Vei-Ceres sanctuary (Fig. 70.2).19
From the age of Romulus, the history of Veii was tightly tied to that of Rome. The
sources speak of difficult relations at the start of the Republic, and in the fifth century,
Veii, with the Faliscans and Capenates as allies, repeatedly attacked Rome. The mas-
sacre of the gens Fabia at the Cremera in 477 provoked an immediate Latin reaction. In
396, the Romans conquered Veii and took the Iuno Regina cult to Rome. Under Roman
control Veii experienced a period of prosperity, with the repopulation of the country-
side through land allocations to veterans and plebeians. From the second century on,
the city gradually declined, despite the Augustan creation of the municipium Augus-
tum Veiens. Finally, in 780 CE, Pope Hadrian I established an agricultural colony
called the domusculta Capracorum in the countryside near Santa Cornelia, which sur-
vived until the thirteenth century.20
Due to its proximity to the Tiber (which provided important access to the Sabine
lands, Umbria, and northern Etruria), Veii controlled a wide territory ranging from
the Arrone to the eastern shore of Lake Bracciano and the center of Capena. While the
frontier with Rome seems to have been established by the Late Iron Age, boundaries
with the ager Faliscus and Capena, centered around the Treja basin, seem to have
18 Moretti Sgubini 2001a, 37–88; Colonna 2002a; 2008, with references; Ambrosini 2009; Carlucci
2011; 2012; see also Winter 2009.
19 Moretti Sgubini 2001a, 9–22; Colonna 2009; Bartoloni 2011, 11–15; Fusco 2011.
20 Liverani 2012.

Fig. 70.2: Veii: Experimental reconstruction of the great Tuscanic temple at Portonaccio
(1993), with the nearby altar of Menerva covered by a roof (photograph by the author)
been less well defined.21 Settlements in this area resembled those of Etruria. Many
small tufa uplands were sparsely occupied from the Final Bronze Age and often show
continuity with the Early Iron Age. Population growth between the Final Bronze Age
and the Early Iron Age was hampered by the formation of Veii, which affected the
Faliscan countryside: myth holds that Halesus, the founder of Falerii, was an ances-
tor of the Veian king Morrius, and that Capena was founded by a group of young men
sent by King Propertius.22
Population recovery is visible in the eighth century. The most important centers,
Falerii (now Civita Castellana) and Narce, stand out in an area historically inhabited
by people speaking Faliscan, a variant of archaic Latin widely documented in inscrip-
tions beginning in the second half of the seventh century. The community at Capena
instead spoke a language similar to that of the Sabines and was open to Etruscan and
Sabine presence, extending into the Tiber Valley through the great inter-ethnic sanc-
tuary of Lucus Feroniae.23
21 De Lucia Brolli 1991a; 1991b; Torelli 1993, 25–48; Carlucci and De Lucia 1998; Cristofani 2000a, s.v.
Falisci and Falerii; and in general Atti Civita Castellana 1990; Cifani 2013.
22 Cifani 2003, 72–113; 2005.
23 Potter 1979; Moscati 1983; Carlucci et al. 2007; De Lucia Brolli 1991a, 18–41; Gazzetti 1992; Bakkum
2009; De Lucia Brolli, Biella and Suaria 2012.

Between the Iron Age and the Orientalizing period the ager Faliscus developed a
funerary ritual with pozzo tombs, where the olla was used for the funerary urn, that
was later succeeded by inhumation in fossa tombs with the dead deposited in tufa
sarcophagi or tree trunks. The elaboration of Orientalizing fossa tombs with lateral
loculi for the deposit of grave goods is characteristic; progressive enlargement of these
fossae was the basis for the development of chamber tombs with loculi in the Late
Orientalizing and Archaic periods.24
High-quality pottery production testifies to lively communities at Falerii, Narce,
and Capena. Capenate brown impasto pottery with plant and animal motifs and the
Faliscan incised and ad incavo impasto ware stand out.25 Black-figure and then red-
figure Attic pottery arrived subsequently, reaching Falerii in the second half of the
sixth century as the center consolidated its dominant position in the Tiber Valley.
At the end of the sixth century, temples at Vignale and Sassi Caduti joined the older
suburban sanctuary of Celle that was dedicated to Iuno Curitis, and in the same
period a great three-cella temple with magnificent terra-cotta decoration was built
at Scasato.26
Despite progressive Roman expansion in inland Etruria with the founding of
the Latin colonies of Sutri and Nepi around 383, Falerii retained a high commercial
and craft profile. In the middle of the fourth century, although allied with Tarquinii
against Rome, the city hosted important ceramic workshops that reworked models of
Attic red-figure pots. Terra-cotta decorations remained of a high quality in the Early
Hellenistic period, as indicated by the Scasato pediment with the well-known bust of
Apollo.27
Hostilities with Rome resumed in 293 and saw Falerii defeated. In 241 a rebellion
led Rome to besiege and destroy the city and move its people to the new site of Falerii
Novi, which was built on a plain 5 km away on the Via Amerina. Roman expansion
in the Tiber Valley was characterized by the redistribution of land to new owners.
The presence of the Via Amerina, and from 220 the Via Flaminia, conferred a certain
importance on the area until the second century CE.28
24 Atti Civita Castellana 1990; Baglione and De Lucia Brolli 1997.

25 De Lucia Brolli and Benedettini 2000; Biella 2007; 2014. On white-on-red impasto ware see Micozzi
1994, 154–71 and 227–35.
26 Cristofani and Coen 1991–92; Comella 1993; Carlucci 1995.
27 Atti Civita Castellana 1990; Comella 1993; Carlucci 2004.
28 Potter 1979, 29–35; Atti Civita Castellana 1990; De Lucia Brolli 1991a, 6–16; Hay et al. 2010.

2 Caere
Caere (possibly after the Greek name Chaire, which is derived in turn from the Etrus-
can Ceisra or Cisra) was also known as Agylla. Myths connect it with Pelasgian found-
ers, but evidence from the Sorbo and Poggio dell’Asino necropolises, along with
funerary evidence in the rural east, dates its formation to the Bronze Age (Fig. 70.3).29
The proto-urban form of Caere was characterized by a number of Final Bronze
and Early Iron Age settlements connected to necropolises. To the west, the population
was grouped around the Monti Ceriti, near the Sasso di Furbara, and around the south
slopes of Monte Tosto Alto. To the east, settlement traces can be recognized at Monte
Abatone with the necropolises of Migliorie di San Paolo and Monte Abbadoncino. In
the Early Iron Age the center was located on the highly populated Vignali plateau (of
160 ha): necropolises with pozzo and fossa tombs at Sorbo and Cava della Pozzolana
evoke the picture of a middle-class community with a rather indistinct distribution of
prestigious funerary goods.30
Necropolises provide the main information about Caere. Located on wide tufa
uplands beyond the Manganello and Mola streams, beside Vignali, they have been
known since 1834 and excavated from 1908 to 1933 by Raniero Mengarelli and then
from 1947 to 1976 by Mario Moretti, with exploration of the Banditaccia and other
burial areas (e.g. the Via degli Inferi, the area of the Tegola Dipinta, and the Tombe
del Comune). The Fondazione Lerici also studied hundreds of tombs between 1956
and 1970 near Banditaccia (e.g. Laghetto I, Laghetto II, and Bufolareccia) and on the
Monte Abatone upland (Fig. 70.4).31
In the middle of the eighth century, the development of the center appears to have
accelerated with the emergence of an aristocracy that interacted with the East, par-
ticularly the Aegean and Anatolia, through Phoenician mediation. Innovations at this
time include tumuli, tombs with earthen mounds erected over round bases carved in
the tufa rock (the diameters of which are sometimes wider than 60 m, as in the case
of the Monte Tosto tumulus), whose sides were decorated with moldings resembling
fillets and torus. In Alessandro Naso’s opinion, these motifs reached Caere thanks to
an artisan of Syrian origin, who knew the monumental solutions used in Anatolian
tumuli (Fig. 70.5).32
Inside, the mounds held one or more family tombs. Chamber tombs with several
interments and imitations of hut roofs (Tomb of the Hut and Tomba 1 del Colonnello)
29 Torelli 1993, 49–122; Marconi Cosentino 1995; Cristofani and Nardi 1988; Cristofani 2000a, s.v.
Caere; Cosentino 2008; Pacciarelli 2001, 159–65; Bellelli 2014.
30 Pohl 1972; Pacciarelli 2001, 165–70; Enei 2001, 39–45; Barbaro 2006; Belardelli et al. 2007, 28, 35,
69–70, 82–7, 89.
31 Pace 1955, 1–24; Linington 1980a.
32 Naso 1998; 2016.

70.03
5
12
4
7
o
0
3
nell
10
nga
Ma
1 6
Mola
2
0 2 km
Proto-historic and 1 - Sorbo 7 - Valle della Mola 2

Etruscan settlement 2 - Migliorie di S. Paolo 8 - Vignaccia
3 - Polledrara 9 - Sant'Antonio
Etruscan necropolis 4 - Monte Abbadoncino 10 - Vigna Marini-Vitalini
5 - Cava della Pozzolana 11 - Vigna Parrocchiale
Proto-historic necropolis 6 - Valle della Mola 1 12 - Tempio del Manganello
Sanctuary
Fig. 70.3: Simplified distribution of archaeological evidence (quoted in the text), on the plateau and
in the suburban area of Caere (drawing by the author)

Fig. 70.4: Caere: Distribution and density of tumuli between the Banditaccia and the Tegola Dipinta
necropolises, according to the excavated evidence, and compiled by the interpretation of aerial
photography (after Bradford 1957)
are characteristic of the first phases of the Orientalizing period, or the late eighth
century.33 The interiors are a local phenomenon, with rooms partially excavated and
partially built with blocks (e.g. the Regolini-Galassi Tomb), with successive courses
of stonework placed atop one another to create a tapering effect (e.g. Tomb 1 in the
San Paolo tumulus). In the Middle Orientalizing period, rectangular rooms became
the norm, placed on axis and divided by pairs of pillars, with an imitation central roof
with a columen and smaller rooms with pitched roofs, essentially reproducing huts in
the funerary space (e.g. Tumulo Mengarelli, Tomb of the Ship 1, Tomb of the Painted
Animals).34
From the end of the eighth century, and especially in the early seventh, Caere
became a protagonist in Mediterranean trade. Its territory lay between the Maran-
33 Naso 1998; 2005; Drago Troccoli and Belelli Marchesini 2006; Cosentino 2008; Bellelli 2012, with
references.
34 Naso 1996, 29–42; Colonna and Di Paolo Colonna 1997; Moretti Sgubini 2001b, 163–76; Rizzo 2008;
Cosentino 2008.

Fig. 70.5: Caere: Oblique aerial view of the tumuli located in the area
of the Tegola Dipinta necropolis (photograph G. Trogu)
gone River, with Castellina as the last outpost of the Monti della Tolfa to the west,
and the Arrone River to the east. Its hinterland extended toward the Mignone Valley
with settlements on tufa plateaus (Monterano, Pian Conserva and Pian dei Santi, San
Giovenale are among the best known). The local material culture, including funerary
architecture and pottery, was distinctive to Caere. The commercial interests and influ-
ence of the city reached the “corridoio pulsante di vita” created by the inland Etruscan
centers clustered around the Biedano, including Blera and San Giuliano. Here several

features of Caeretan architecture were assimilated and re-elaborated in tumuli and

later rock-cut tombs.35
Bucchero workshops were set up at Caere in the first quarter of the seventh
century, benefiting from experience gained working brown impasto ware. Working
alongside Etrusco-Geometric and Sub-Geometric pottery workshops, they produced
vessels for tableware and the symposium. Etrusco-Corinthian pottery and red-slip
ware (painted first with “white-on-red” and then with stamped decorations) were
produced throughout Caeretan territory. Goldsmiths and bronze workshops special-
izing in the production of statues and tableware were also active.36
The first changes in the social fabric can be discerned in the Late Orientalizing
period. The growing strength of a commercial and entrepreneurial class eroded aris-
tocratic power and increased agricultural production, possibly by reorganizing the
distribution of arable land to individuals. Between the start of the sixth and the fifth
century, Caere promoted long-distance trade, especially with the Celts, of wine trans-
ported in red-brown impasto amphorae and oil for perfume and ointments carried in
Etrusco-Corinthian aryballoi and alabastra. The inclusion of the Phocaean colony of
Massalia in wine-trading routes was a serious menace for Etruscan, and especially
Caeretan, commerce in the mid sixth century. In 540, in Corsican waters near Alalia,
the Phocaeans were defeated by the Caeretans, who were allied with the Carthagin-
ians. This confirmed the victors’ control of the eastern coast of Sardinia and Corsica
and thus their thalassocracy in the Tyrrhenian Sea.37
Between the Orientalizing and the Archaic periods, funerary goods included
pottery from the major Greek centers (first from Corinth and then from Athens, but
also Laconia and the Cyclades). The city became increasingly open to the Mediterra-
nean from the middle of the sixth century, when Caere welcomed Ionian artists from
Asia Minor fleeing Persian invasion, including a potter (possibly from Phocaea) who
founded the workshop responsible for Caeretan hydriae.38
The Archaic period saw profound changes in funerary architecture as tumuli were
gradually replaced by hypogean tombs with axial chambers and small rooms opening
onto a dromos, and a new type of tomb was introduced, the a dado tomb, built in
tufa opus quadratum with an entrance facade. These tombs created a new planimetri-
cal organization in the necropolises. Funerary roads and squares (Via dei Vasi Greci,
dei Monti della Tolfa, dei Monti Ceriti) in the Banditaccia necropolis are hints of the
35 Gran-Aymerich and Dominguez-Arranz 2011; Zifferero 1995; 2000; Brocato 2009; Cerasuolo 2012;
Pohl 2009, with references; Quilici Gigli 1976; Colonna Di Paolo 1978; Ceci and Schiappelli 2006;
quotation from Colonna 1967, 13.
36 Micozzi 1994, 173–226 and 243–74; Rizzo 1989b; Sciacca 2004; Pieraccini 2003; Serra Ridgway
2010; Cristofani 1992; 1993; 2003; Ten Kortenaar 2011; Bellelli 2012.
37 See chapter 72 Zifferero; Colonna 2000; Zifferero 2005; Atti Marseille 2006; Belelli Marchesini,
Biella, and Michetti 2015.
38 Cristofani 2001, 467–83; Bonaudo 1999; Hemelrjik 2009, with references.

Fig. 70.6: Caere: View of the a dado tombs along the Via dei Monti Ceriti, at the Banditaccia
necropolis (photograph A. Naso)
consolidation of the middle class with limited displays of funerary luxury and the
increasing weakening of aristocratic power (Fig. 70.6).39
Limited information about the Orientalizing and Archaic city was provided by
nineteenth-century excavations that uncovered a Roman theater, by the work of
Raniero Mengarelli, and by excavations in 1983–89 led by Mauro Cristofani at Vigna
Parrocchiale and Sant’Antonio. At Vigna Parrocchiale, a residential quarter with
at least one public building, probably a regia, was discovered, dating to the sixth
century. The area was demolished at the start of the fifth century to make way for
a great Tuscanic temple, perhaps dedicated to Vei, which remained in use until the
beginning of the third century. The temple was contemporary with a large elliptical
open-air building with tiered stairs set on thick perimeter walls, which has been iden-
tified as a public space for assemblies. The center of Vignali is also remarkable for
the notable number of cult buildings brought to light in nineteenth-century excava-
tions at Vigna Marini-Vitalini that yielded large quantities of Archaic and Late Archaic
architectural terra-cottas now dispersed in major European and American museums.
Other sacred buildings were located near the urban gates, including the Manganello
temple to the west, where a votive deposit suggests a male and female fertility cult;
and the temple at Vignaccia, connected with a cult for the protection of childbirth
39 Naso 1996, 64–67; Drago Troccoli and Belelli Marchesini 2006; Rizzo 2008.

and infants. At Sant’Antonio, in an area occupied by Iron Age oval huts and primar-
ily female fossa tombs, a complex sacred arrangement arose at the start of the fifth
century with the construction of two Tuscanic temples (A and B) oriented to the south-
west and on set either side of an altar. The main divinity was Hercle, probably accom-
panied by Menerva. The fons Herculis recalled in ancient sources may be the complex
along the Fosso della Mola to the east of the city.40
Between the mid sixth and mid fifth centuries, Caere was a cosmopolitan city.
Greek sources mention a Caeretan thesaurós at Delphi, and a substantial number of
cults were recorded at Pyrgi in a document written in Punic, reflecting Carthaginian
presence at the sanctuary for commercial purposes.41
Excavations at Pyrgi, begun in 1957 by Massimo Pallottino, have brought to light a
Greek-style temple (called B) built in ca. 510 with a pronaos and one cella surrounded
by a peristyle, as well as richly decorated revetment plaques for the columen and
mutuli featuring the labors of Hercle. The nearby Area C, with an altar and bothros,
hosted a chthonic cult. Between 470 and 450, Temple A was built, parallel to Temple
B, and dedicated to Thesan/Leucothea; it had a Tuscan plan with cella and alae,
and a columen plaque depicting a scene from the myth of the Seven against Thebes
(Fig. 51.15). Inscribed gold tablets found in Area C record the dedication of Temple B
to Uni/Astarte by King Thefarie Velianas in Etruscan and Punic, with strong tyranni-
cal connotations. Research has recently uncovered a crowded southern section of the
sanctuary, with several altars and shrines indicating cults of Śuri/Apollo and Cavatha,
gods of the underworld.42
The complexity of the Archaic and Late Archaic city, ruled by tyrant-kings, is
evident in the dense population of the suburbs and countryside. The coast up to the
slopes of Monti Ceriti was occupied by open sites connected with necropolises of
varying sizes, and by scattered shrines. The picture changes at the start of the second
quarter of the fifth century, when Caere lost control of the mid-Tyrrhenian sea after
Syracuse’s defeat of an Etruscan fleet near Cumae in 474. The resulting decline in the
wine trade in the Gulf of Lion affected agricultural and craft production in the city and
its territory, and led to depopulation of the hinterland.43
Caere appears to have recovered from this crisis at the beginning of the fourth
century. The political balance had changed, however, with the commercial strength
of Carthage and the aggressive presence of Syracuse in the Tyrrhenian Sea; the latter
plundered the port and sanctuary of Pyrgi in 384. The growing power of Rome was
40 Santoro 1989; Nardi 1989; Cristofani 1992; 1993; 2000b; 2003; Moretti Sgubini 2001a, 121–62;
Colonna 2001; Rizzo 2008; Guarino 2010.
41 Cristofani 1983, 77–89; Rizzo 2008.
42 Colonna 2012, with references; Belelli Marchesini et al. 2012; Baglione and Gentili 2013; Bellelli
2014.
43 Tartara 1999; Enei 2001, 49–62; Zifferero 2005; Atti Marseille 2006; Rizzo 2008.

another important factor. From this time on, the city had a new character; it was
controlled by an aristocracy that renovated urban sanctuaries and built large hypo-
gean tombs that were sometimes decorated with stucco and monumental facades
(e.g. Tombs of the Reliefs, of the Tarquins, of the Sarcophagi, of the Tamsnie, of the
Alcove, and of Sant’Angelo). The premise for this recovery was an amicable relation-
ship with Rome: Caere in fact aided Rome in the rescue of the Vestal Virgins and the
sacred objects taken from the Capitoline sanctuaries in the Celtic invasion of 390, and
was consequently granted hospitium publicum and civitas sine suffragio.44 Relation-
ships worsened, however, in the early third century when a rebellion caused Rome to
halve Caere’s territory, build the Via Aurelia, and establish the maritime colonies of
Castrum Novum, Alsium, Fregenae, and Pyrgi on the coast. Caere briefly prospered
under Augustus with a public works program, including the theater, and the pres-
tige of the aristocracy helped it to become a municipium with local magistrates. But
decline was unstoppable, and by the second century CE public buildings and cult
places had fallen into ruin. In the Middle Ages, the few remaining inhabitants moved
to Ceri, and the city was revived only in the Late Middle Ages under the name Caere
vetere.45
3 Tarquinii
Tarquinii (Etr. Tarch(u)na) is considered by the literary sources to be the most ancient
city in Southern Etruria. According to tradition, it was founded by Tarchon, the epon-
ymous hero of the Etruscans and the first haruspex. The development of the city has
been the subject of a wealth of intensive, high-quality research. From an advanced
phase of the Final Bronze Age on, the population was concentrated on the Piano di
Civita and the Piano della Regina (150 ha), and in the Early Iron Age also occupied
the plateau of Poggio Cretoncini. The necropolises are grouped on the east hills (e.g.
Poggio Selciatello, Poggio Sopra Selciatello, Poggio dell’Impiccato, Poggio della
Sorgente) but also appear to the north (Poggio Gallinaro) and south of the settle-
ment (Poggio Quarto degli Archi). The number of settlements in the Early Iron Age
(at several places on the Monterozzi plateau, where the Arcatelle and Villa Bruschi
Falgari necropolises stand out) indicates a complex demography, suggesting a com-
munity organized in kinship groups similar to Roman curiae. A rich material culture
was evidently divided between social classes and featured high-quality ceramic and
metalwork from the beginning of the eighth century. In the Late Iron Age, the inhab-
44 Cristofani 1965; Proietti 1985; Blanck and Proietti 1986; Torelli 2000; Rizzo 2008; Colonna 2012.
45 Enei 2001, 62–87; Liverani 2012.

70.07
ta
ar
M
R.
15
10
4
5
2 6
0 2 km
Proto-historic settlement 1 - Le Rose 8 - Arcatelle

2 - Villa Bruschi Falgari 9 - Poggio Quarto degli Archi
Proto-historic and 3 - Acquetta 10 - Civitucola
Etruscan settlement 4 - Infernaccio 11 - San Savino
5 - Doganaccia 12 - Poggio Selciatello
Etruscan necropolis 6 - Acquetta 13 - Poggio Sopra Selciatello
7 - Calvario 14 - Poggio dell'Impiccato
15 - Poggio Gallinaro
Proto-historic dwellings Etruscan tumuli 16 - Ara della Regina
Proto-historic necropolis Sanctuary
Fig. 70.7: Simplified distribution of archaeological evidence (quoted in the text), on the plateau
and in the suburban area of Tarquinii (drawing by the author)

ited area shrank inside the confines of the historical city and Monterozzi became the
main necropolis (Fig. 70.7).46
Excavations at Piano di Civita, directed by Maria Bonghi Jovino since 1982, have
brought to light a complex area with a public and religious character. In the Final
Bronze Age and Early Iron Age, huts were concentrated around a natural cavity that
has been interpreted as a mundus. In the Late Iron Age, blood sacrifices were carried
out, including the ritual killing of a man (possibly of Greek origin) who was buried
with a Euboean olla. In the seventh century, the area was monumentalized with
buildings and enclosures aligned along a road; of these, Edifice Βeta is considered
the ceremonial and religious base of the resident curia on the Piano di Civita, with a
foundation deposit formed of a trumpet lituus, a shield, and a bronze axe (Fig. 45.2).47
The sixth century saw the construction of the city walls in opus quadratum. The
first oikos was built on the Piano della Regina around 570 and was incorporated into
a second cult building in 530–520. The sanctuary included a terrace in front of the
Archaic building, where a chest made of limestone slabs (interpreted as Tarchon’s
heroon) was placed in the first half of the sixth century and remained in situ during
subsequent alterations. At the start of the fourth century, the sanctuary gained a great
temple with alae and a single cella behind a deep pronaos. Imposing terracotta deco-
rations included pedimental simae, antefixes with Silenus and Maenad heads, and
revetment plaques with plant motifs; parts of the revetments for the columen and
mutuli have survived, including the well-known hand-molded plaque with winged
horses and part of a female figure. The venerated deities may have been Apollo and
Artumes/Diana, but there are no certain data.48
The relationship between Tarquinii and the Mediterranean is demonstrated by the
arrival of the Corinthian merchant Demaratus in the middle of the seventh century. He
brought a retinue of artisans to Tarquinii, married an aristocratic woman there, and
sired Lucius Tarquinius, the future king of Rome. This story reflects ongoing contact
with the Greek world and explains the noteworthy development of artisanal work,
including Etrusco-Geometric pottery. The necropolises, located primarily on the
Monterozzi plateau, provide confirmation (Fig. 70.8).
Funerary architecture at Tarquinii shows originality from the start of the Oriental-
izing period, with chamber tombs dug out of the limestone and approached by a wide
dromos with curving walls and a longitudinal gap at the top that was closed by stone
blocks (e.g. Tomb of Bocchoris). Chest tombs, a cassone, with a deep trench covered
46 Torelli 1993, 123–62, 216–46; Cristofani 2000a, s.v. Tarquinia; Mandolesi 1999; Pacciarelli 2001,
165–70; Moretti Sgubini 2001b; Cataldi 1993; Perego 2005; Cataldi Dini 2008.
47 Moretti Sgubini 2001b, 21–44; Bonghi Jovino 2005, with references.
48 Moretti Sgubini 2001b, 45–51, 69–72; Bonghi Jovino 2005; Bonghi Jovino and Bagnasco Gianni
2012.

Fig. 70.8: Tarquinii: Distribution and density of tumuli on the Monterozzi necropolis, according to the
excavated evidence, and compiled by the interpretation of aerial photography (after Bradford 1957)
by limestone slabs, are also known and were generally used for single burials. Recent
studies have focused on several mid-Orientalizing tumuli, where the burial chamber
was preceded by an open-air vestibule with steps and benches used for funerary
cults. This type of tomb closely resembles the royal tombs of Salamina at Cyprus (of
the eighth to seventh century) and shows Tarquinian connections with Near Eastern
culture (e.g. Tumuli of Poggio del Forno and Poggio Gallinaro, Tumulo Luzi, Tumuli
of Doganaccia).49
Chamber tombs with benches excavated in limestone became popular between
the Late Orientalizing and the Archaic periods. They had a long dromos, a small
tumulus, and limestone blocks or slabs forming a polygonal masonry platform that
was probably used for the deceased’s prothesis. The entrance to the chamber could be
closed with slabs decorated with stepped motifs and representations of animals and
myths relating to the underworld.50
Contacts with the Greek world were strengthened in the sixth century with the
establishment of Gravisca, an emporic sanctuary 6 km from the city. Excavated by
49 Torelli and Menichetti 1997; Moretti Sgubini 2001b, 95–99; Neri 2010, 252–60; Mandolesi 2009;
Mandolesi and Lucidi 2010; Mandolesi and De Angelis 2011; Cerasuolo 2014.
50 Linington 1980b; Bonghi Jovino 1986, 277–92; Maggiani 2000.

Mario Torelli since 1969, the site provides extraordinary proof of the presence of Greek
merchants, entrepreneurs, and sailors between the beginning of the sixth century
and the first quarter of the fifth century. The first shrine of Aphrodite was built around
580 and replaced by a new building at the end of the century; the impressive number
of votive offerings (including Corinthian, Ionian, Laconian, and Attic vases, wine
amphorae from Corinth, Chios, Lesbos, Samos, and Massalia, and small bronzes and
ivories) and dedications on vases reflect the commercial activities familiar in liter-
ary sources (for example, those of Sostratos of Aegina, who dedicated an anchor to
Apollo), which were already evinced by other dedications to Aphrodite at the empo-
rion of Naukratis on the Nile Delta. The addition of Hera and Demeter cults caused the
construction of a new cult building between 480 and 470 that contained a large shrine
and incorporated the cult of Adonis. The political climate, however, made the pres-
ence of Greeks increasingly rare, and a reorganization of the site at the end of the fifth
century can be explained by exclusively Etruscan patronage. The cults, which were
now those of Turan/Aphrodite, Uni/Hera, and Vei/Demeter, prevailingly had a health-
giving and popular character that was reflected in copious anatomical votives.51
Around 530, some painters who were experts in large-scale painting arrived in
Tarquinii after the Persian invasion of Ionian Asia Minor. They transformed local
funerary painting, which had been based on the enhancement of architectural details
(such as pediments and columns, with polychrome bands between the walls and the
lower part of the roof) and the depiction of animals derived from Etruscan ceramics.
The city became a laboratory for technical refinements and the development of an
expressive, lively, and colorful style for depicting various points in the funerary ritual
(the exposure of the dead, athletic games, and races with horses and chariots) that
culminated in the banquet and symposion honoring the dead with performances by
dancers and musicians. Other images, like the hunt, evoked the social identify of the
deceased, and there were also scenes with vulgar and erotic content, always accom-
panied by the consumption of wine, which emphasized the triumph of life over death
(Fig. 70.9).
Ionian influence is most visible between 520 and 500 but gave way to styles
inspired by Attic ceramics, which can be irregularly perceived until the end of the
fifth century. Local painting strictly reproduced elite lifestyles (to date, only three
percent of all known tombs are painted) but changed with the approaching crisis of
the fifth century, as the number of painted tombs decreased and subjects suggesting
that the afterlife was perceived as dangerous and disturbing were introduced. Despite
the high quality of paintings in tombs such as the Tomb of the Orcus I, in general
quality declined between the end of the fifth and the first half of the fourth century,
51 Moretti Sgubini 2001b, 125–40; Boitani 2008c, with references; Fiorini 2008.

Fig. 70.9: Tarquinii: Tomb of the Lionesses: performance of the dancers and musicians beside a
krater, with banqueters on the lateral walls (about 530) (after H. Leisinger, Malerei der Etrusker,
Stuttgart 1954)
which prefigured the decay of style and quality known in crafts in the late fourth and
third centuries.52
At this time, however, the urban aristocracy began to recover and consolidate the
prestige of Tarquinii in Etruria. This change is evident in the tombs, which became
grand rooms, frequently adorned with paintings and space for a large number of
sarcophagi made form the dense tufa-like volcanic rock known as nenfro that were
designed to hold members of the most important families (e.g. the Pulena, the
Partunu, the Pumpu, the Velcha, the Pinie). City walls were restored and the Ara della
Regina temple and terra-cottas were completely renewed.53
The period between the last quarter of the fifth and the end of the fourth century
is central to Torelli’s reconstruction of the fragments of Julio-Claudian inscriptions
52 Steingräber 1985; 2008, with references; Cataldi 1993, 36–83; Cristofani 2001, 467–83; Cataldi Dini
2008; Brocato 2010.
53 Moretti Sgubini 2001b, 69–75; Cataldi Dini 2008.

that were found in 1938 during excavations at the Ara della Regina. These fragments
record the res gestae of an aristocratic Tarquinian family, the Spurinna, and probably
came from the base of an honorary monument with their portraits. The first member,
Velthur Spurinna, would have held the title of praetor in the Etruscan contingent
during the siege of Syracuse in 413–412, as an ally of Athens in the Peloponnesian War
(Fig. 38.13). In contrast, his grandson (?) Aulus Spurinna may have been a protagonist
in the war between Rome and Tarquinii from 358 to 351.54 This evidence shows strong
Tarquinian influence in Etruria, in particular the significant policy of acquiring land
by conquest, submission, and alliances in the fourth century, a strategy that repeat-
edly countered Roman penetration into inland Etruria. In fact, Tarquinii successfully
brought together several inland districts to create a solid frontier against Rome.
Tarquinian influence spread as far as Lake Bolsena and the Tiber region. Here lay
flourishing centers, such as Acquarossa, which was excavated by the Swedish Insti-
tute of Classical Studies at Rome, providing knowledge of the structural and decorative
features of Etruscan architecture in the Late Orientalizing and Archaic periods. Three
buildings decorated with antefixes and revetment plaques were arranged around a
courtyard to form a monumental area. This complex, probably a regia, expresses the
autonomy enjoyed by the local leaders of settlements on the periphery of territorial
states. The settlement was abandoned at the end of the sixth century and re-founded
anew in the fourth at Ferentium. Farther west, Tuscania displays strong adherence
to Tarquinian models in its fourth-century tombs, where chambers of wealthy local
families held nenfro sarcophagi bearing images of the recumbent dead (e.g. Tombs of
the Vipinana, the Statlane, and the Curuna). Castel d’Asso and Norchia (Etr. *Urcla?),
in the Biedano Valley, have an extraordinary array of rock-cut tombs, including tomba
a dado with external porticoes and facades resembling temple frontages. In this
phase, gentilicia of Tarquinian origin and a prolific workshop of nenfro sarcophagi are
attested at Norchia. Blera, at the edge of Caeretan expansion in the Archaic period,
renewed the terra-cotta figural decoration of some cultual buildings and increased
the necropolises for a community to a moderate extent, in which gentes of Tarquinian
origins are attested. San Giuliano reinforced its opus quadratum city walls and sup-
ported a workshop making sarcophagi in peperino, a volcanic rock similar to nenfro,
a practice probably inspired by Tarquinii. At its height, Tarquinian territory stretched
from the Arrone to Lake Bolsena (lacus Tarquiniensis in the sources), to the Monti
Cimini in the east, San Giovenale in the south, and the Monti della Tolfa in the west;
many of these frontiers had oppida and border sanctuaries.55
54 Torelli 1975.
55 Barbieri 1991; Wendt et al. 1994, with references; Moretti and Sgubini Moretti 1983; Moretti Sgubini
1991, with references; Colonna Di Paolo and Colonna 1970; 1978; Colonna Di Paolo 1978; Quilici Gigli
1976; Barbieri 2004; Scapaticci 2010; Gentili 2005; Zifferero 1995; Naso 1999; Pulcinelli 2012, with
references.

Wars were fought several times in the heart of inland Etruria, with the Faliscans
and Tarquinii as allies, between the Mignone and Biedano Valleys, on the frontier of
Sutri and Nepi (defined as claustra Etruriae, the locks of Etruria), and in the Caeretan
ager up to the salt marshes of the Tiber. The end came in 281 when Rome conquered
Tarquinii and dissolved its vast territory. Although the Via Clodia crossed the land,
settlements along its route (e.g. Blera, Norchia, and Tuscania) inexorably decayed.
The Romans also separated Tarquinii from the coast, where the maritime colony of
Gravisca was to be founded in 191. The result was a progressive decline in handicrafts,
visible in black-glazed pottery, terra-cotta and nenfro sarcophagi, and tomb paintings.
The forum was reorganized in the Julio-Claudian period, but Tarquinii experienced
gradual decline from the third century CE on and was abandoned five centuries later
for the episcopal seat of Corneto.56
4 Vulci
Vulci (Etr. Velχ) was located in the low Fiora Valley, 11 km from the Tyrrhenian coast.
Historical information about the city is scarce. The Roman Fasti Triumphales recall
the triumph of the consul Tiberius Coruncanius after his victory over the population
of Vulci in 280, and a veiled female personification of the people of Vulci also appears
on the well-known marble altar from Julio-Claudian Caere.
The city sat on a plateau of 126 ha and went through the same proto-urban pro-
cesses as other southern Etruscan centers. Research by Marco Pacciarelli has high-
lighted consistent settlement on the principal upland, La Città, since the Final Bronze
Age, with pozzo tombs located near Osteria and at the Ponte Rotto on the left bank
of the Fiora River. There are also traces of settlements on the neighboring Pozzatella
upland and remains of a necropolis to the south. Complete definition of the center
came in the Early Iron Age with widespread occupation on the two plateaus and the
establishment of several cemeteries on surrounding hills (to the north, the groups at
Osteria; to the west, the areas on the hills in front of Pozzatella; and to the south, at
several points in the Tamariceto) extending to the left bank of the Fiora, Cavalupo,
Mandrione di Cavalupo, Ponte Rotto, and south of the Cuccumella. It is also interest-
ing to note that other peripheral necropolises, such as Poggio Maremma with tombs
dating back to the Final Bronze Age, seem to be connected to the center and anticipate
control of the suburban zone by part of the central community through the burial of
its members. The votive deposit at Banditella, discovered near a spring 5 km to the
east of Vulci in 1992, seems to indicate suburban organization by the Early Iron Age;
votives here indicate that the cult site was frequented from the Final Bronze Age to the
56 Naso 1999; Liverani 2012.

seventh century, and include two bronze horses and examples of miniature, wheel-
made ollae (Fig. 70.10).57
Material culture in the Early Iron Age is relatively unknown due to the limited
number of excavated pozzo tombs but appears to have included high-quality pottery
and metalwork. Laminated bronze vessels were abundant; they were used as grave
goods between the Late Iron Age and the Orientalizing period. Female grave goods
from the late ninth century Tomb of the Sardinian Bronzes in the Cavalupo necropolis
show close connections between Etruscan and Sardinian elites, which possibly had
been strengthened by marriage. The coast has yielded notable traces of Late Iron Age
settlements and cemeteries near Pescia Romana, at the mouth of the Chiarone, the
source of the Cesnola Painter’s famous Euboean crater. Contact with Euboean sailors,
although mediated through the emporion at Pithecusae, is attested around the middle
of the eighth century, and artisans of Greek origin, probably transplanted to Vulci,
are evident in the abundant production of Etrusco-Geometric pottery with its clear
inspiration from Greek ceramics.58
Around the middle of the eighth century the city’s influence began to extend to
the north, toward settlements in the Fiora valley that were repopulated after Early
Iron Age abandonment. Cultural influence was still felt on the western shores of Lake
Bolsena and reached as far as Bisenzio. In the second half of the eighth century, the
area around the Albegna valley between the Talamone promontory and the south
slopes of Mount Amiata became the limit of Vulcian expansion.59
Most data about Vulci have come from excavations that only became systematic
after World War II. Looting and random discoveries from as early as the eighteenth
century have produced an incredible number of artifacts (particularly Attic vases)
that are now resident in European and American museums. Recent research on the
urban plateau, coordinated by Anna Maria Moretti Sgubini, has identified power-
ful defenses at the western gate in the eighth century. More information about the
population, however, comes from Late Iron Age and Early Orientalizing period fossa
tombs, often covered with tufa slabs, in the large necropolises of Osteria, Cavalupo,
Mandrione di Cavalupo, and Polledrara, and to a lesser extent from Poggio Maremma
and Marrucatello. Grave goods indicate the growth of an aristocratic class that con-
trolled the arable lands around the city and in the countryside and participated in an
exchange network that brought pottery from Corinth and the Greek islands, decora-
57 Torelli 1993, 163–212; Cristofani 2000a, s.v. Vulci; Pacciarelli 2001, 128–79; Moretti Sgubini 1993;
2002; 2008a. On the Banditella votive deposit see Naso 2012, with references.
58 Casi and Celuzza 2000, 60–64; Iaia 2005; Arancio, Moretti Sgubini, and Pellegrini 2010, with
references; Neri 2010, 261–64, with references.
59 Atti Vulci 1977; Pellegrini 1999; Perkins 1999; Berlingò 2005; Iaia and Mandolesi 2010.

70.10
5
6
8
R.
Fi
or
a
0 2 km
Proto-historic and 1 - Marrucatello 8 - Ponte Sodo

Etruscan settlement 2 - Osteria 9 - Carraccio
3 - Tamariceto 10 - Porta Nord
Proto-historic necropolis 4 - Cavalupo e 11 - Tempio Grande
Mandrione di Cavalupo 12 - Sacello di Ercole
Etruscan necropolis 5 - Ponte Rotto 13 - Vasca di Porta Est
6 - Cuccumella 14 - Fontanile di Legnisina
Sanctuary 7 - Polledrara
Fig. 70.10: Simplified distribution of archaeological evidence (quoted in the text),

on the plateau and in the suburban area of Vulci (drawing by the author)

tive objects, ivories, ornaments, and fine wines all to Vulci, principally through the
Phoenicians.60
In the Late Iron Age, Vulci produced a type of fine Etrusco-Geometric pottery
known as Metopengattung, characterized by banquet and symposium forms, which
circulated in the Fiora and Albegna Valleys from the last quarter of the eighth century
alongside brown impasto ware decorated with thin metal sheets in geometric shapes.
Large vases in laminated bronze maintained a high standard of production, in the
form of biconical vases (often used as cinerary urns), cups, and tripod stands for
banquets. The first chamber tombs appeared in the Orientalizing period. Some were
simple, such as the Tomb of the Bronze Chariot at Osteria, found intact in 1965 with a
rich array of metal vases for two cremation burials, while others were more elaborate,
like the Tomb of the Carved Ceilings, a mid-seventh-century tomb with four rooms
looking onto a vestibule and a representation of a pitched roof with beam endings
that are shaped like disks, that clearly reference contemporary architecture at Caere.61
Tumuli appeared around the city in the last decades of the seventh century,
although fewer than elsewhere in the south. The Cuccumella tumulus, with a diam-
eter of approximately 65 m, was surmounted by great opus quadratum towers and a
rich decorative program of nenfro animal sculptures. Inside, two chambers opened
onto a large atrium with carved steps along the sides, which was used as a cult space.
The nearby Cuccumelletta tumulus had an open-air atrium leading to the burial
chambers; new investigations have revealed that sculptures of lions and sphinxes
were originally placed on the summit and have confirmed the presence of an adjacent
sacellum.62
The cassone tomb with one underground chamber, generally used for a single
burial, and an open anteroom became popular in the Late Orientalizing period. Grave
goods in this period included a large number of sumptuous goods such as bronzes,
ivories, glass, and pottery from Corinth and eastern Greece. These suggest the rapid
growth of an urban community with a class connected to agricultural production as
well as artisan and commercial activities. Etrusco-Corinthian ceramic workshops
were set up in this phase, including the Painter of the Bearded Sphinx and later the
Ciclo dei Rosoni, who may have been stimulated by resident Corinthian potters. Their
products were widely distributed across southern Etruria and were also associated
with western Mediterranean trade routes for wine. Between the late seventh and the
early sixth centuries, wine from Vulci was traded principally with Celtic emporia in
the Gulf of Lion; the origins of this trade lie in the development and integration of
60 Moretti Sgubini 1993, 13–25; 2001a, 187–206; 2004a; 2005; 2008b; Moretti Sgubini and Ricciardi
2005, with references.
61 Moretti Sgubini 1986; Mangani 1995; Pellegrini 1989; Donati 1989; Iaia 2005; Moretti Sgubini 2000;
2008a; Neri 2010, 261–64, with references.
62 Moretti Sgubini 1993, 110–14; Colonna 2002b; Moretti Sgubini 2008b.

different urban social classes unified by greater access to fertile land suitable for the
intensive production of cereals, wine, and olives. The production process in the lower
and middle Albegna Valley was systematically researched by field-walking in the
1980s.63
A dense system of open sites was centered on the settlements of Marsiliana
d’Albegna and Doganella. Marsiliana d’Albegna was already populated in the Late
Iron Age and the Orientalizing period, and grave goods indicate a stratified com-
munity (the subject of current research) that occupied a hill system of 47 ha and an
intensely populated suburban area in the Archaic and Late Archaic periods. Doga-
nella appeared at the end of the seventh century as a settlement dedicated to the man-
ufacture of dolia and transport amphorae for moving wine and olive oil, and above all
the collection of agricultural surplus to take to the seaport in the Talamone lagoon.
The high number of transport amphorae made with orange clay fired in the lower
Albegna Valley that have been found in the French Midi and at Catalonia reinforce the
high volume of the city’s production (Fig. 70.11).64
Like Caere, Vulci acquired a leading role in the Mediterranean between the Late
Orientalizing and the Archaic periods. It had a diffuse and organized system of ports
at sites including Pescia Romana, Orbetello, and on the edges of the Talamone lagoon;
the nearest was located at Le Murelle (identified with ancient Regae), where at least
two Late Archaic and Classical buildings have been found along with a significant
number of local and imported amphorae.65
Less is known about the city in the Archaic and Late Archaic periods. The Pozza-
tella upland continued to be occupied in the sixth century, and pottery kilns suggest
the presence of craft workshops. Several sanctuaries appeared on the La Città plateau,
and the Tempio Grande was built around 500 with a single cella and peristyle atop
a large podium. It was probably dedicated to Menerva, and architectural terra-cottas
indicate that it was completely renovated in the second half of the fourth century.
The extra-urban cult site to the south at Fontanile di Legnisina had a contemporary
cult building with three cellae for the worship of Uni/Juno and a monumental altar
dedicated to Vei/Ceres with a rich votive deposit of pottery, bronze statues, and ana-
tomical votives. Another sanctuary was sited at the Ponte Rotto. The flourishing of
important sanctuaries hints at growing isonomia at Vulci, as do modest tombs with
one chamber and buca tombs that contained vases with cremated remains and only
few grave goods. The grave goods document a great development in craft, especially
in bronze, stone animal sculptures, jewelry, bucchero, and black-figure ceramics. The
63 Naso 1996, 230–39; Moretti Sgubini 2001a, 207–15; Moretti Sgubini and Ricciardi 2005; Perkins
1999; Atti Etruria meridionale 2005; Atti Marseille 2006.
64 Michelucci 2008; Firmati, Rendini, and Zifferero 2011; Zifferero 2009; Zifferero et al. 2011a,
Zifferero et al. 2011b; Ciampoltrini and Rendini 2012; Perkins 1999; 2012.
65 Morselli and Tortorici 1985; Moretti Sgubini 1993, 115–19; Ciampoltrini and Rendini 2012.

70 Southern Etruria
Fig. 70.11: Marsiliana d’Albegna: The area of the recently identified settlement (square-hatching), surrounded by
1279
necropolises (cross-hatching) (drawing by the author)

Fig. 70.12: Sovana: The carved facade of the Tomb of the Siren
(second century; photograph by the author)
Paris Painter and his followers (the so-called Pontic Painters) and the Ivy Leaf Group
were active in the second half of the sixth century, and the Micali Painter, working
between the last quarter of the sixth and the beginning of the fifth century, led a pro-
lific workshop specializing in vases with funerary subjects.66
In the mid fifth century, Vulci experienced a crisis. A decline in the wine trade and
importation of Attic vases was accompanied by general depopulation on the plateau
66 Spivey 1987; Rizzo 1988; Moretti Sgubini 2001a, 179–86, 216–55; Belelli Marchesini 2004; Celuzza
et al. 2004; Moretti Sgubini and Ricciardi 2005; 2011; Moretti Sgubini 2008a; 2008b.

Fig. 70.13: Sovana: Proposed reconstruction of the facade of the Tomb of the Winged Demons
(late third–early second century; drawing by A. Maggiani, courtesy La Nuova Immagine Editrice)
and at open sites in the Fiora and Albegna Valleys. Changing social tensions brought
the aristocracy to the fore in the mid fourth century, and signs of recovery are evident
in the construction of city walls, renovated sanctuary decorations, and the building
of great gentilicial tombs. The vitality and pride of local aristocrats (the Tarna, the
Tetnie, the Pruślna, and the Tute) can be recognized in the Ponte Rotto necropolis, the
site of several monumental Late Classical and Hellenistic hypogean tombs with a long
dromos and burial chambers opening onto a wide atrium, and the exceptional Fran-
çois Tomb from the second half of the fourth century featuring paintings depicting
historical events at Vulci glorifying the gens Satie and their antipathy toward Rome.67
Between the Archaic period and the fourth century, the settlement of Sovana (Etr.
*Svea, Lat. Suana), located at the borders of Vulcian territory in the Fiora Valley, devel-
oped a unique style of funerary architecture in contrast to other villages in decline
67 Moretti Sgubini 1993, 94–107; 2004b; 2005; 2008b; Musti 2005.

(Poggio Buco, Pitigliano, Castro, and to some extent even Saturnia in the Albegna
Valley). The new style was characterized by rock-cut tombs with monumental facades
imitating the fronts of temples and aediculae (e.g. the Hildebrand and Pola Tombs
and the Tombs of the Typhon, of the Siren, and of the Winged Demons) (Figs. 70.12,
70.13).
In 280 Vulci was defeated by Rome and lost the majority of its territory and ports.
Rome founded the Forum Aureli near Montalto di Castro, established prefectures at
Saturnia and Statonia, and created the maritime colony of Cosa in 273. Although the
Via Aurelia opened in 241 and the central plateau continued to host considerable
public and private buildings, such as the Late Republican domus of the Criptoportico,
the city underwent progressive depopulation in the Imperial period and was aban-
doned in the eighth century CE.68
5 Volsinii and Bisenzio; Perugia and the Tiber Valley

Volsinii (Etr. Velzna) was located at the confluence of the Tiber and the Paglia Rivers
on a tufa plateau of about 85 ha that today is completely occupied by Orvieto. Con-
tinuing discoveries have identified the settlement’s cultural features, which are found
in a wide area to the north and east of Lake Bolsena and have also clarified its rela-
tionship with Bolsena, where Rome established Volsinii novi after the destruction
of the Etruscan city in 264. The proto-urban phase is demonstrated by Final Bronze
Age pottery found at several places on the plateau, while Iron Age finds from the city
center and plateau slopes (in secondary contexts) suggest widespread occupation. At
least three funerary areas (at Crocifisso del Tufo, on the slopes beneath the Pozzo di
San Patrizio, and near Surripa) can be connected with Early Iron Age settlements.69
Orientalizing artifacts are scarce and exclusively funerary. The city developed sub-
stantially only in the Archaic period, probably through specialization in intensive and
extensive agriculture, particularly cereals (Roman sources record that Volsinii sup-
plied wheat to the urban plebs after the fall of the Etruscan monarchy), and oversight
of goods circulating in the Tiber Valley.70
The emergence of a middle class associated with agriculture, craft production,
and trade is reflected in the organization of necropolises below the urban plateau,
such as the Crocifisso del Tufo in the northwest and the Cannicella in the southeast.
These were laid out in equal-sized lots and primarily contained dado tombs built in
68 For Sovana: Cristofani 2000a, s.v. Sovana; Michelucci 2005; Barbieri et al. 2010; Barbieri 2011. For
Vulci: Moretti Sgubini 1993, 37–40, 68–84; Liverani 2012.
69 Torelli 1993, 213–20; Timperi and Berlingò 1994; Della Fina 1999; Cristofani 2000a, s.v. Orvieto and
Bolsena; Tamburini 2003; Cifani 2003, 38–48; Sisani 2006, 39–53.
70 Colonna 1985.

opus quadratum with bare chambers and grave goods of fairly uniform quality and
quantity. Funerary inscriptions concerning gentes from areas such as Caere, Veii,
Latium, and Celtic lands suggest a recently formed urban community that was open to
outsiders. The most significant data come from multiple excavations at the Crocifisso
del Tufo necropolis. In the first decades of the sixth century, tombs here had a regular
dado plan inspired by prototypes from Caere, with a single chamber, a pseudo-vaulted
ceiling created by layered steps of stone courses, benches for the deceased, and an
architrave at the entrance inscribed with the names of those interred. Decoration was
limited to the upper part of the facade above recurring moldings of a fillet, torus, and
hawk’s beak. Spherical or pinecone-shaped cippi in tufa were usually placed on the
summit (Figs. 70.14. 70.15).71
The organization of the city in the Etruscan period is evident today in systems
for managing water, such as drains, cuniculi, and cisterns, and the remains of several
cult buildings. Two decorative cycles (of the first half of the fifth and the first half
of the fourth century) are documented at the Belvedere temple, a Tuscanic building
dedicated to Śuri/Apollo and Tinia/Jupiter. On Via San Leonardo, another building
with high-quality architectural terracottas can be dated to the end of the fifth century.
Several suburban sanctuaries are also attested: a Late Archaic decorative system
including a battle with Giants has recently been connected with a building in the
Vigna Grande area (dedicated to *Nurti/Nortia?); and a Late Archaic sanctuary with
a funerary element dedicated to Vei/Ceres is evident at the Cannicella necropolis. A
more peripheral sanctuary with remains of a building and trenches holding architec-
tural terracottas and Late Archaic and Hellenistic pottery has also been linked to the
Etruscan federal sanctuary of the Fanum Voltumnae, dedicated to Voltumna/Vertum-
nus, where the concilia omnis Etruriae were held.72
In the Archaic and Late Archaic periods, the city directed its interest toward the
lower Tiber Valley. Written sources describe the reign of Porsenna at Chiusi and Volsi-
nii, and his attempts in Rome and Latium Vetus to restore the Etruscan monarchy.
During this phase, the city underwent considerable development, with mid-quality
craft production including bucchero, fine pottery, black-figure vases (the Orvieto
Group), and locally produced metal vessels, although stylistically these products
depend on prototypes from Vulci. Like the Faliscan and Capenate regions, the Tiber
area of Etruria was not affected by the crises of the coastal cities in the fourth century;
the strength of the economy is reflected in the repeated supply of grain from Volsinii
to Rome during famines, the consistent flow of high-quality Attic pottery that reached
the city in the second half of the fifth century, and the considerable trade with Etrus-
can settlements in the Po Valley.73
71 Colonna 2003; Feruglio 2003; Bruschetti 2012.

72 Roncalli 2003; Stopponi 1993; 2003; 2012; see also in general Della Fina 2012.
73 Camporeale 2003; Della Fina 2005.

Fig. 70.14: Volsinii (Orvieto): Aerial view of the Crocifisso del Tufo necropolis
(photograph by P. Nannini)
Like the coast, Volsinii experienced a remarkable development of the local aristoc-
racy in the Hellenistic period that was connected to local agriculture. Latifundia
and necropolises far from the urban center flourished from the middle of the fourth
century. The Porano necropolis is illustrative: excavated in the Settecamini area in

Fig. 70.15: Volsinii (Orvieto): Three-dimensional reconstruction of the Crocifisso del Tufo necropolis
(drawing by Soprintendenza Archeologia dell’Umbria, courtesy Quattroemme)
1863, it includes the two painted tombs Golini I and II: the first contains scenes of
preparations for the funerary banquet, while the second shows the journey of the
deceased to the afterlife. A third painted tomb located at Castel Rubello depicts the
journey of the dead Laris Hescanas to the afterlife.74
Between the fourth and early third centuries, Volsinii repeatedly repulsed the
advance of Rome until it was finally defeated by the consul Tiberius Coruncanius in
280. In 264 the Romans intervened again when called on by the local aristocracy to
suppress an uprising that saw the city taken over by slaves. Volsinii was destroyed
and its population was transplanted to a new settlement along the Via Cassia, modern
Bolsena, which became an important municipium in the Late Republican and Early
Imperial periods. Excavations by the École française de Rome have uncovered the
forum, the baths, and other public and private buildings.75
Volsinii enjoyed its greatest influence in the Archaic period, when its territory
extended from the Paglia and Tiber Valleys to the northern and eastern shores of Lake
74 Orvieto 1982; Bruschetti 2003.

75 Santrot and Santrot 1995, with references; Tamburini 2001, 5–54; Liverani 2011.

Bolsena. This region had been populated since the Final Bronze Age, and many settle-
ments show continuity in the Early Iron Age, especially east of the lake, for example
at Gran Carro. Volcanic activity produced small tufa uplands overlooking the lake
that were occupied by settlements and cemeteries reflecting influence from Volsinii
in their use of features like mushroom-shaped funerary cippi. Civita di Grotte di Castro
and Civita d’Arlena, respectively northwest and east of the lake, have been explored
intensively, revealing occupation between the Orientalizing and Archaic periods.76
The area south of the lake is a significant part of inland Etruria. The land to the
southwest, between the Marta and Fiora Valleys, was controlled by Bisenzio, a town
known since the nineteenth century for its large number of tombs. The Etruscan set-
tlement was set on a hill (now Monte Bisenzo) that was later occupied under Rome by
the municipium of Visentium. Roman inscriptions record the magistrates and the reg-
istration of the Sabatina tribe (as at Vulci), and the worship of Minerva Nortina, who is
also linked with Volsinii. The settlement emerged in the Final Bronze Age and greatly
developed in the Early Iron Age, with a large number of pozzo tombs with original
features that set them apart from the proto-urban coastal centers. Maximum develop-
ment occurred in the Late Iron Age with the establishment of the main necropolises
at San Bernardino, Porto Madonna, Polledrara, Bucacce, Olmo Bello, and Piantata;
more recent chamber tombs, perhaps relating to the same settlement, are found on
the north shore (e.g. Grotte del Mereo, Poggio Falchetto). A smaller number of grave
goods date to the Orientalizing period, and deposits at Olmo Bello continued to the
end of the sixth century. The high level of the community is evident in the male
funerary ritual, where the deceased, often dressed as a warrior, was interred with a
banquet service and symposium set. Women were buried with ornaments and groom-
ing equipment. Influence from Vulci is discernible in the Late Orientalizing and Early
Archaic periods, in the spread of Etrusco-Corinthian pottery and bucchero combined
with elements of Volsinii’s local culture in the second half of the sixth century. This
phase also saw a thorough reorganization of the area with the founding of new set-
tlements, such as Poggio Evangelista, perhaps to reinforce the frontier between the
lands of Vulci and Volsinii. Bisenzio progressively contracted and eventually disap-
peared at the beginning of the fifth century.77
The left bank of the Tiber near Lake Trasimeno is also an important area of
Etruria, home to Cortona and Chiusi and oriented toward the Val di Chiana and the
Amiata region. The eastern side of Lake Trasimeno was an important frontier between
the Umbrians, who occupied modern Umbria, Romagna, and Marche (with the towns
76 Timperi and Berlingò 1994; Tamburini 1995; 1998, 56–117, with references; Cifani 2003, 48–57;
Medori 2010.
77 Torelli 1993, 213–16; Cristofani 2000a, s.v. Bisenzio; Delpino 1977; Naso 1996, 239–58; Iaia 1999,
93–112; Della Fina 2004; Berlingò 2005, with references.

of Asisium/Assisi, Hispellum/Spello and Mevania/Bevagna), and the Etruscans of

Tuder (Todi) and Perugia.78
Perugia (Lat. Perusia) has two mythical origins: an Umbrian one, in which it was
founded by the Sarsinati; and an Etruscan one, in which it was built by Aules, the
brother of Ocnus, who founded Felsina and Mantua. Perugia became important at
the end of the fourth century when it participated in battles against Rome, culminat-
ing in those at Sentinum (295) and the Lacus Vadimonius (283). During the Second
Punic War it supplied Rome with grain and timber; and, following integration into
the Tromentina tribe, it became involved in the civil war between Mark Anthony and
Octavian. It was destroyed in 40 BCE and rebuilt by Augustus as Augusta Perusia.
Continuous occupation of the site since antiquity means that archaeological data are
fragmentary. Some grave goods from the Palazzone necropolis date from the Iron Age,
but almost nothing survives from the Orientalizing period. A significant number of
Late Archaic tombs with Attic pottery and bucchero vases from Volsinii were discov-
ered in the Palazzone necropolis, while important Archaic tombs of peripheral genti-
licial groups were found at Castel San Mariano and San Valentino di Marsciano.
Perugia seems to have benefitted from the destruction of Volsinii in 264, experi-
encing a consistent growth in the urban and rural populations. Imposing travertine
city walls with monumental gates (the Arco di Augusto and Porta Marzia) were built in
the fourth century. Necropolises were located on the slopes of the upland supporting
the city and included fossa and chamber tombs with benches to hold cinerary urns
that were made in pietra fetida or terra-cotta and had fronts decorated with ornamen-
tal motifs or mythical scenes; the lid took the form of a pitched roof or a portrait of
the deceased. In the third century, cremation became the exclusive rite, leading to the
widespread production of cinerary urns in Perugian territory (from the eastern shore
of Lake Trasimeno to Umbertide to the north and Arna/Civitella d’Arno and Bettona
on the left bank of the Tiber). Important monuments include the hypogean tomb of
the Velimna/Volumni, dating from the late third century BCE to the early first century
CE, with a nine-room plan, and tombs at Villa Sperandio and San Manno, the last
hosting the tomb of the gens Precu. At Monteluce, the tomb of Cai Catu was discov-
ered in 1983. It held fifty travertine urns deposited between the mid third and the first
century BCE.79
Finally, Bettona (Etr. Vetuna/Vetuni?, Lat. Vettona) should be included among
the settlements in Perugia’s countryside. The settlement was set 14 km southeast of
Perugia on a hill at the confluence of the Chiascio with the Tiber. A perimeter wall
of irregular sandstone blocks remains, and a necropolis with sandstone chest tombs
was located to the north of the settlement; there are also various remnants of shrines.
78 Cristofani 2000a, s.v. Perugia; Sisani 2006, 1–38; Stopponi 2008.

79 On the city and the territory generally see Della Fina 2002; on the necropolises see Feruglio 2002;
2011; Nati 2008; Cenciaioli 2011.

A moderate number of Etruscan inscriptions identify Bettona as a frontier community

facing Umbria composed mainly of Etruscan-speaking people.80
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—. 2000 “Architettura costruita e paesaggio rurale in Etruria meridionale. Un contributo dal territorio
cerite.” In L’architettura funeraria a Populonia tra IX e VI secolo a.C., edited by A. Zifferero,
—. 2002. “La geografia del sacro nelle società complesse. Ipotesi per una ricerca sull’Italia medio-
tirrenica preromana.” In Primi popoli d’Europa. Proposte e riflessioni sulle origini della civiltà
nell’Europa mediterranea, edited by M. Molinos and A. Zifferero, 137–56. Florence: All’Insegna
del Giglio.
—. 2005. “La formazione del tessuto rurale nell’agro cerite. Una proposta di lettura.” In Atti Etruria
meridionale 2005, 257–72.
—. 2009. “Marsiliana d’Albegna (Manciano, GR). Cento anni di ricerche archeologiche.” In Materiali
per Populonia 8, edited by F. Ghizzani Marcía and C. Megale, 223–46. Pisa: Edizioni ETS.
—. 2012. “Il primo vino degli Etruschi. Vitigni, vigneti e modi di consumo.” In Etruschi. L’ideale eroico
e il vino lucente, edited by A. Mandolesi and M. Sannibale, 67–75. Milan: Mondadori Electa.
Zifferero, A., A. Pecci, A. Pepi, C. Sanchirico, and E. Santoro. 2011a. “Marsiliana d’Albegna. Nuovi
dati dall’area suburbana.” In Materiali per Populonia 10, edited by G. Facchin and M. Milletti,
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In Materiali per Populonia 10, edited by G. Facchin and M. Milletti, 321–56. Pisa: Edizioni ETS.

Erik O. Nielsen and P. Gregory Warden
71 Northern Etruria
Abstract: Northern Etruria can be defined as the area bounded by the Arno to the north, the foothills
of the Apennines to the east together with the upper reaches of the Tiber, and the Albegna River valley
to the south. It is an area that includes varied and sometimes rugged topography. The Arno basin
features mountainous edges, the sparsely inhabited but economically fundamental Colline Metal-
lifere, the upper Maremma with sites such as Populonia, Vetulonia, and Roselle, which are intimately
connected to the coast and the sea, and the major interior sites of Chiusi and Cortona, with the broad
and fertile Chiana valley between them.As is the case in the rest of Etruria, the region divides into a
coastal zone that includes the centers of Populonia, Vetulonia, Roselle, and even Volterra, set farther
back but still connected to the coast. The interior includes Chiusi, the Senese (with the important
Orientalizing and Archaic center of Poggio Civitate), Arezzo, and Cortona.
Keywords: Northern Etruria; cities and territory; urban plateau; necropolises; sanctuaries
Introduction
For the purposes of this chapter, Northern Etruria can be defined as the area bounded
by the Arno to the north, the foothills of the Apennines to the east together with the
upper reaches of the Tiber, and the Albegna River valley to the south. It is an area that
includes varied and sometimes rugged topography. The Arno basin features moun-
tainous edges, the sparsely inhabited but economically fundamental Colline Metallif-
ere, the upper Maremma with sites such as Populonia, Vetulonia, and Roselle, which
are intimately connected to the coast and the sea, and the major interior sites of Chiusi
and Cortona, with the broad and fertile Chiana valley between them.As is the case in
the rest of Etruria, the region divides into a coastal zone that includes the centers of
Populonia, Vetulonia, Roselle, and even Volterra, set farther back but still connected
to the coast. The interior includes Chiusi, the Senese (with the important Oriental-
izing and Archaic center of Poggio Civitate), Arezzo,1 and Cortona (Figs. 32.1–32.5).
The sequence of development for northern Etruria appears to be consistent and
not altogether different from what is found in southern Etruria. Evidence of Bronze Age
occupations is relatively modest and scattered. Iron Age settlements begin to appear
toward the end of the tenth century BCE and continue toward the end of the eighth.
While not much remains of these early settlements, their existence is evident from
their numerous necropolises. Toward the end of the eighth century, there is a visible
increase in the wealth of grave goods and a noticeable influx of imported luxury items
and exotica that signals the Orientalizing Period. It is noteworthy that Greek ceram-
ics as well as vessels of Phoenician manufacture and Sardinian bronzes are found
1 Ciacci 2004.
1300 Erik O. Nielsen and P. Gregory Warden
together with local products at sites such as Vetulonia. As elsewhere in Etruria, there
are changes in mortuary custom and an interest in more monumental forms of funer-
ary display, the grave circle and the tumulus, which are undoubtedly connected to
changing social structures. By the early decades of the seventh century, the increase
in luxury items, the proliferation of grave goods, and the quantity of exotic imports
give a dramatic picture of an explosion of wealth and wider contact beyond Etruria.
Centers such as Marsiliana, Vetulonia and Populonia display remarkable wealth no
doubt acquired from their fortuitous position near the rich mineral resources of the
Colline Metallifere or as ports of entry for traders. The presence of refined bucchero
sottile of purely Etruscan origin alongside the imported exotica points to an exchange
of goods among the Etruscan elites and evidences contact among the cities and south-
ern Etruria, notably Caere.2 More recent studies have shown a similar connection
inland with the site of Poggio Civitate,3 which also showed some aspect of exchange
with Roselle through shared stamped ceramic motifs. These two sites are directly con-
nected by the Ombrone and Merse Rivers, which ultimately allowed traders ingress
from the coast. By the end of the seventh and the early sixth centuries, some centers—
for instance Vetulonia—appear to lose their prominence. In contrast, Populonia and
Roselle are now in the ascendency. By the middle of the century, the presence of Greek
vessels increases, particularly those of Attic production. Necropolises increase in size
and in their proximity to the cities. It has been assumed by some scholars that indi-
vidual farmers and smaller settlements are moving closer to the cities as the latter
develop as economic centers and provide more resources for their inhabitants. At
some sites, inhumation increases and almost entirely replaces cremation, a change
that has been interpreted as an indication of the rising merchant class and the decline
of a small ruling elite. Stephan Steingräber, among others, has concluded that the
rise of the cities in Etruria appears to take strong form in the sixth century, coinciding
with the rise of this stable middle class.4 The villages in turn grew out of groupings of
huts, common in the late Iron and early Orientalizing Period in much of Etruria save
for a few sites that appear to have developed a strong urban character ahead of their
contemporaries (Veii and Tarquinia).
While the changes in funerary customs described above hold true for much of
northern Etruria, the region around Chiusi presents an anomalous situation. The city
appears not to have figured prominently in the Orientalizing Period, if one compares
the richness of the local grave offerings with that found near the coastal cities, but
2 For instance the kyathoi found at Gavorrano, part of a ceramic production also evident at Vetulonia
and Poggio Civitate, which has been connected to Caere. Donati and Cappuccini 2007, 680, fig. 3. See
also Tuck and Nielsen 2008, 49–66. For a complete discussion of this group of ceramics: Cappuccini
2007.
3 Nielsen 1991; see esp. 252–53, n. 21.
4 Steingräber 2001, 17.

71 Northern Etruria 1301
its presence was felt more strongly in the subsequent Archaic Period and beyond.
Despite its relatively small size (ca. 25 ha) and its estimated population of ca. 5,000,
it exerted a significant influence on the surrounding regions with its artistic produc-
tion. By the Archaic Period, its distinct artistic style is ubiquitous in the north central
portion of Etruria, particularly manifested through its production of “bucchero
pesante” and stamped decoration produced by roulette. Cremation remained popular
and a particular form, the Canopic urn (Fig. 48.3), became associated with the city
and its immediate environs.
The predominantly funerary nature of the evidence makes it difficult to define
the phenomenon of northern Etruscan urbanization. These cities, with easy access
to water or readily defendable—preferably both—are today the same sites occupied
by modern cities, hence difficult or impossible to excavate. Only occasionally, at sites
like Poggio Civitate or Poggio Colla does the discovery of isolated structures on sites
that were left abandoned provide us with us a rare look at architectural remains of
freestanding buildings. But any conclusions must be viewed with caution. The bulk
of our evidence is mostly funerary in nature, hence very selective. The size, evolution
and architectural complexity of a specific urban center are difficult to present to the
reader because of the dearth of evidence. Chiusi, Cortona, Vetulonia, Volterra and a
host of other North Etruscan cities, lie under the remains of modern construction and
are thus impossible to retrieve. Isolated sites such as Poggio Civitate and Castelnuovo
Berardenga5 provide architecture of a scale and design which compels us to wonder
what relationship they might have had to the surrounding area and how they func-
tioned within that regional, social framework. The problem is exacerbated by the lack
of evidence for Etruscan Siena6 and any major urban center in the region between
Volterra and Chiusi.7 The common model for understanding Etruscan urbanization
is that of the city-state, of city and territory, thus a definition of Etruria along the
lines of its political landscape.8 The model works along theoretical and macro lines,
and in fact reflects what we know from historical sources about the twelve peoples
of Etruria, but is less useful in its details. Specific sites—like sanctuaries, and set-
tlements like Poggio Colla—are arguably liminal,9 being more self-sufficient markers
of boundaries than political entities imbedded in the greater territory of a large city-
state. Indeed, in northern Etruria, the model of centralized power through a single,
dominant, centrally located city is not always applicable. Chiusi, for instance, has a
widely distributed urban pattern, even if it appears to be a dominant political power
5 Mangani 1984; Mangani 1986, 94–98.

6 Cristofani 1979, according to whom the city name, Siena, may have Etruscan origins from the elite
family name Saina/Seina.
7 For the dispersed archaeological evidence of this region: Mazzeschi 1976; Mangani 1986; Pistoi 1997.
8 As set out, for instance by Stoddart 1990.
9 For sanctuaries of this type: Zifferero 1995.

in the late Archaic Period, according to Roman sources. And the Agro Fiorentino, with
its equally widely distributed pattern of settlement, is a case in point for arguments
for very different models of political geography. The same may hold true for early
Volterra.
The self-sufficiency manifested by the sequence of structures of the Orientaliz-
ing—and by implication, the early Archaic—Periods at Poggio Civitate suggests that
other hill-tops were similarly occupied and may have served as home to a local chief-
tain who enjoyed his own estate complete with workshop, residence and ceremonial
or public structures.10 This leaves one wondering where the support personnel lived
or where others not included in the immediate family were expected to construct their
homes. Perhaps one should see, for this region, houses of a type such as the Casa
dell’Impluvium (Roselle) as serving the remainder of the community. Similarly, the
houses at Lago di Accesa, which are simpler in plan, provide a middle ground in size
and construction. However, the disparity in size and decoration with the structures at
Lago dell’Accesa reinforces the impression that sites like Poggio Civitate and Castel-
nuovo Berardenga, as we will see, represent special cases. Suffice it to say the set-
tlement patterns of northern Etruria, perhaps because of the topography, but also
because of social and political structures, is complex and not yet fully understood.
1 Vetulonia
The urban nucleus of Vetulonia itself is built on a natural outcrop of rock that has an
elevation of ca. 340 m. Its walls enclose an area of ca. 100–120 hectares, making it one
of the larger cities in northern Etruria. The extent of the circuit walls corresponds to
a rebuilding period sometime in the second half of the fourth century, contemporary
with the early minting of coins with the legend vatl. However, portions of the circuit
wall constructed of large polygonal blocks probably date to the sixth century and are
contemporary with sections of the circuit wall at Roselle, which suggests that the
region was experiencing troubled times in this period. As with several other large and
well-known Etruscan cities, the urban settlement at Vetulonia yielded little material
contemporary with the period of major growth of the city. Our knowledge of Vetulonia
is thus derived primarily from tombs.11 Many assumptions regarding the importance
and size of the city are based on the quantity and opulence of the artifacts found in
the tombs and in the monumentality of the tomb constructions. Admittedly, the grave
goods do provide a reasonable indication of wealth of some of the elite inhabitants
10 Nielsen 2006, esp. 20–28.

11 Standard references are Falchi 1891 and Cygielman 2000.

and dramatic evidence of commerce with the world beyond Etruria.12 Both Vetulo-
nia and Populonia, cities separated by ca. 50 km, one directly on the coast and the
other slightly inland appear to have enjoyed a healthy existence in the late Villanovan
period. Both cities appeared to profit from their vicinity to the Colline Metallifere. At
Vetulonia the early Villanovan period is characterized by relatively poor grave goods
that increase in wealth by the late Villanovan period (eighth century). Cremations
in biconical urns remain the standard form of burial, but unlike most other sites in
northern Etruria, Vetulonia manifests the acceptance of hut urns as a container for the
ashes, a custom more commonly found in southern Etruria and Latium. In addition,
inhumation burials in fosse have also been found, datable from the ninth century to
the middle of the eighth, providing for an unusual variety of burial custom.
The necropolis of Poggio alla Guardia is the most significant of the Villanovan
necropolises at Vetulonia, and contains a heavy concentration of tombe a pozzetto.
Most common is the single deposition, though occasionally one finds double or triple
depositions with a cinerary urn placed on top of another and separated by a stone
slab. There are no external grave markers. The presence of the so-called “Circolo di
pietre interrotte” at Poggio alla Guardia, which dates to the late ninth century, is also
noteworthy. This custom of placing the burial “wells” within the confines of a ring
of stones (which is found elsewhere in Etruria) has been interpreted as a desire on
the part of a family or clan to provide a physical demarcation to the burial plot and
may even reflect social stratification, a supposition reinforced by the richer grave
goods often contained within these circles. Evidence of contact with Sardinia—albeit
possibly only through indirect trade—is given in the form of several small Nuragic
bronzes found among the grave offerings. Judging from the grave goods, traders from
the Baltic, Greece (principally Euboea), and the Levant were also attracted to the area.
Mining and metallurgy account for the rich economic base. While iron no doubt was
one of the highly prized commodities of the area and sought by traders, its relative
impermanence and fragility have left us with few good examples of the skill of the
craftsmen or the range of the artifacts produced. Quite common are the remains of
iron associated with chariot elements and some weapons. Nevertheless its use as a
decorative element in inlays, one example of which can be seen in the buckle from
Poggio Civitate,13 suggests it was also a prized material. On the other hand, produc-
tion in bronze, because of its better preservation, has left us with good indicators of
12 Camporeale 1999. Among the many objects that document contact with the Eastern Mediterranean
or Sardegna are: a faïence Bes figurine (second half of the eighth century) from Poggio alla Guardia;
a seventh-century bronze lebes from the Circolo dei Lebeti that has strong stylistic connections to
Anatolia or North Syria; and a seventh-century Nuragic boat-shaped “lamp” from the Circolo delle Tre
Navicelle. Most recently for Nuragic navicelle, see Lo Schiavo on the Nuragic boat from the Tomba del
Duce: Celuzza and Cianferoni 2010, cat. 3.39, 136–38, with bibliography. Also: Lo Schiavo and Milletti
2015, with previous bibliography.
13 Phillips 1970, 15–16 and 18.

the extent of Vetulonia’s impact on other centers and its geographical reach for this
early period. Bronzes of Vetulonian manufacture have been identified at Tarquinia
and as far away as Olympia and Samos, in Greece.14
Typical of the Orientalizing period at Vetulonia, as at Marsiliana, are the circle
tombs (tombe a circolo) with one or more fosse contained within. By the middle of the
seventh century one sees the emergence of large tumulus burials (tholoi) with dromos
and side chambers accompanied by a wealth of grave offerings. Perhaps best known
among these is the Pietrera Tomb, which dates to the second half of the seventh cen-
tury.15 The tumulus was constructed of a large artificial hill circumscribed by a drum
more than 60 m in diameter and 14 m high. In the interior was a chamber tomb with a
central pillar. This chamber collapsed in antiquity and was immediately rebuilt with
a second chamber placed on top of it. At the time of the excavations, numerous fosse
filled with rich grave goods were uncovered around the tumulus. Numerous statue
fragments of stone figures16 (Fig. 71.1) were recovered in the interior, which repre-
sented one of the few sculptural groupings of the Orientalizing period discovered to
this point. The recent excavations at Casale Marittimo (discussed below), some 60 km
distant, where similar sculptures have been uncovered, give clear evidence that the
fashion extended beyond the confines of this settlement, perhaps providing testi-
mony to the sphere of artistic influence of this city.
Judging by the wealth of the tombs, it would appear that Vetulonia reached its
zenith during the seventh century.17 By the sixth century, tombs are smaller in size,
less numerous, and less impressive in the quality of the exhibited grave goods. As
noted above, this may only reflect a redistribution of the wealth over a larger popula-
tion and the supplanting of a small group of “elite” families with a rising and finan-
cially comfortable “middle class.” In his study of the area, Giovannangelo Campo-
reale has posed some interesting questions. Does the presence of these Etruscan
artifacts manufactured in bronze and recovered at sites beyond Etruria reflect trade
only in metal, or does their presence allow us to imagine transport of more fragile
and fugitive materials such as cloth or foodstuffs? Is it solely trade or do these objects
indicate immigration, perhaps of experts who traveled to other sites bringing with
them their expertise as well as objects.18 While the argument has been made for Near
14 G. Camporeale (in Celuzza 2009, 27) in speaking of bronze production during the Villanovan
period mentions a variety of objects said to be of Etruscan manufacture recovered at Dodona, Samos,
Delphi and Olympia. See chapter 87 Naso.
15 Camporeale 1967.
16 Two of the best-preserved examples were most recently published by Celuzza and Cianferoni,
2010, 158, figs. 3.106–7.
17 For recent publication of Orientalizing tomb groups: Cygielman 1997; Rafanelli and Cygielman
2002; Cygielman and Pagnini 2006.
18 As argued elsewhere for Ceri: Colonna and von Hase 1984; and for Picenum: Warden 1994.

Fig. 71.1: Vetulonia: Stone relief figure

from the Pietrera Tomb (photo SAT)
Eastern artisans reaching the shores of Etruria, settling in coastal cities and plying
their trade, it has seldom been suggested that Etruscans emigrated beyond their bor-
ders.19 Perhaps we should see this as the logical outcome of an exchange that traveled
in two directions.
2 Roselle
Like its coastal neighbors, and given its proximity to the Ombrone River, Roselle is
well-situated to take advantage of seagoing traders wishing to make their way inland,
though apparently not close enough to the sources of metal to take full advantage of
19 Magness 2001, with bibliography.

mining. This is borne out by the archaeological evidence, for the scarcity of remains
for the Late Bronze Age through Iron Age would suggest that the site was eclipsed by
its more powerful neighbors—Vetulonia and Populonia in the north, and Marsiliana
to the south. Early signs of activity can be seen in the mid-eighth century from traces
in the necropolis surrounding Roselle.20 The picture that emerges is that of Roselle
serving as a tributary of Vetulonia, perhaps reflecting the relationship Marsiliana
enjoyed with Vulci, as a welcome port of entry leading to sites further inland.
While funerary remains are scarce, evidence of habitation can be found on the
north and south hill in the form of huts that date to the second half of the eighth
century. What emerges is a picture of a settlement formed of irregularly placed huts,
with ample open space dedicated to fields for pasturing and cultivation, similar to
models that are well attested in the south. During the middle of the Orientalizing
period, there is a dramatic change in architectural form, with the construction of the
so-called “Casa con Recinto,” a formal two-room enclosure composed of crude brick,
located in the forum between the two hills. More recently it has been proposed that
it served as both a public and sacred center for the community. The absence of tiles
suggests a roof of straw or thatch. Mario Cygielman sees here two functional yet dis-
tinct areas: an open courtyard on the east, perhaps for more public encounters, and
a closed space on the western flank where ceramic evidence suggests the presence
of symposia or formal gatherings.21 Cygielman further sees the features of a tholos in
this structure, thus documenting a relationship between tomb type and habitation. In
this way, he sees the monumental tombs of the period as reflecting with some accu-
racy various architectural elements of residences.22 The building itself is of consider-
able size (26 m × 7.5 m), not unlike OC1 at Poggio Civitate, which is roughly contem-
porary but fitted with a more elaborately decorated roof. One of the fragments found
within the “Casa con Recinto” is the rim of a dolio with an inscription translated by
Mauro Cristofani23 as indicating a gift from one person to another. Is this an example
of a precious offering exchanged between two members of the elite class at Roselle,
or an indicator of interaction further afield? Cristofani has assigned an elaborate gold
fibula displaying designs in the pulviscolo technique (associated with Vetulonia and
particularly common to the Tomba del Littore) to this period.24 All the elements of the
architecture taken together, with the presence of a focolare, have resulted in various
interpretations for the function of the building, from a Regia of the type known from
the Roman forum to a public/sacral building (similar to the Roman cult of Vesta) con-
nected to an ancient royal residence. A more recent interpretation by Gilda Bartoloni
20 For early Roselle: Cygielman 2009.

21 Cygielman 2009, 56.
23 Cristofani 1975. See also Cristofani 1976, 38, no. 38.
24 Cristofani and Martelli 1983, 142 and 282.

and Piera Bocci Pacini suggests that the structure functioned as a gathering place for
the local community, combining all the functions of a public and sacred space. Com-
parable to the Greek Basileus, it was the home of the local chief where the community
would gather on special occasions.25 This is also one of the possible solutions offered
by the excavators at Poggio Civitate for the buildings of the Orientalizing Complex
as well as the subsequent Archaic Building on the site.26 Yet the elaborate nature of
the decoration at Poggio Civitate and the number of buildings in the Orientalizing
Complex compared to the single structure at Roselle makes one wonder about the
relative importance of these local “princes.” If the elite at Roselle gained his power
from the fortuitous location of the site, what was the source of power at Poggio Civi-
tate? At the end of the seventh century at Roselle, one sees new buildings on the north
hill and the construction of the “Casa a Due Vani,” which cuts into one of the wings of
the “Casa con Recinto,” perhaps replacing the function of the latter. This continuity
has also been postulated at Poggio Civitate between the structures of the Orientalizing
Complex and its Archaic successor.27
The existence of circuit walls for this early period at Roselle is still under discus-
sion. The excavations have uncovered traces of walls, though some have suggested
that they served as part of a terracing system rather than serving to defend or define
the city. As the area of habitation expanded, the need for cultivatable land increased
and necessitated the use of terracing to take maximum advantage of the limited
space. By the sixth century, Roselle appears to break away from the dominance of
its neighbor Vetulonia, and begins to establish itself in the area. By the middle of the
century, reflecting the unrest visible in much of Etruria, the city has constructed a
circuit wall enclosing the north and south hills. The wall, about 3,170 m long, encloses
an area of about 45 hectares. It was built over an extended period of time and was
repaired during the Roman era. Constructed in polygonal masonry of local stone, the
northern sector rises up from trenches dug in the bedrock. The southern sector of the
wall is built in squared blocks, and appears to date to the second century during a
period of later rebuilding. Steingräber puts its population at ca. 12,000, less than half
of that postulated for Populonia and yet more than twice the size of Chiusi, at 5,000
inhabitants.28
Between the 1980s and 1990s, excavations on the north slope of the north hill,
some five meters from the summit, brought to light the existence of a remarkable
building. From the results of these careful excavations, the archaeologists concluded
that the typology of the Italic house centered around an atrium with impluvium,

26 E. Nielsen and K. Phillips, in Stopponi 1985, 68–69. For further thinking on the interpretation,
Phillips 1993, 81–83.
27 Phillips 1993, 80.

as hypothesized for Marzabotto, was already in use in Etruria by the sixth century.
Equally interesting is evidence that suggests a continuity of habitation and architec-
tural development in the immediate area progressing from the late Villanovan Period
through to the early decades of the fifth century. Three successive occupation phases
have been identified. Remains from a refuse pit suggest that houses in the early period
were constructed using reed impressed plaster. The excavator, Luigi Donati, feels that
the absence of tiles indicates the presence of a straw or thatch roof such as that sug-
gested for the contemporary “Casa con Recinto” uncovered in the forum between the
two hills. The second phase of occupation is represented by the remains of House C, a
freestanding two-room unit. Though somewhat difficult to pinpoint chronologically,
Donati suggests a date between the Villanovan construction associated with cavità A
and the House of the Impluvium, i.e. between the end of the seventh century and the
first half of the sixth.29
3 Populonia
Populonia (Etruscan Pupluna) is exceptional in that it is the only Etruscan city directly
on the sea (Fig. 71.2), the last city to join the Etruscan league, and a site whose very
foundation and later political identity was often connected by ancient authors to non-
Etruscan areas like Corsica and Syracuse.30 Populonia was also a center of intense
mineral exploitation and metal production, and metal production areas have been
excavated at both Populonia and nearby Campiglia Marittima. The residues of this
production—literal mountains of slag—eventually blanketed the cemeteries on the
Golfo di Baratti (see chapter 26 Corretti). By the fifth and fourth centuries, Populonia
lays claim to an industrialized production that will eventually result in a monetary
economy, as evidenced by the extensive production of silver coinage in the Hellenistic
period. In his studies on the urbanization of Etruscan settlements, Stephan Stein-
gräber concludes that at its height, Populonia was certainly one of the larger cities in
Etruria after Veii, Caere and Tarquinia, covering ca. 150 hectares.31 The urban center
was girdled with a wall more than two kilometers long, which was interrupted by
defensive towers during this period. Also noteworthy is the development of settle-
ments on the coast in the third and second centuries when Volterra was extending
its power. With respect to populations, Steingräber estimates Populonia to have had
ca. 25,000 inhabitants, similar to Caere, while Vetulonia was somewhat smaller, with
17,000.
29 Donati 1998.
30 See for instance Maggiani 2004: 151–52.

Fig. 71.2: View of the Golfo di Baratti from Populonia (photo P. G. Warden)
Populonia seems to be one of the few Etruscan cities where the Iron Age culture is
placed directly on top of the late Bronze Age, as evidenced in the region of the Villa
del Barone, where a Protovillanovan necropolis was uncovered. A horde of bronzes
found in the locality of Poggio Guardiola belongs to the same period. The first imports
to reach the city seem to come from Sardegna. However, many of the foreign imports
point to the presence of Greek merchants, especially those from east Greek colonies.
Analysis of the grave goods from the surrounding cemeteries suggests that in the
second half of the eighth century (late Villanovan period), Populonia experienced a
recession, perhaps due to the ascendency of Vetulonia. It is conjectured that the city
reached its fully formed state between the end of the seventh and the beginning of
the sixth century, but architectural remains of this period are scarce at best. Nancy
Winter, in her recent study on the development of architectural decoration in Etruria,
does not list a single terracotta from the city prior to 500 BCE.32 In marked contrast
to this lacuna, the material from the tombs shows an extraordinary concentration
32 N. Winter, personal communication 2012.

of wealth.33 Exploitation and production of iron increases in the second half of the
sixth century, and in the middle of the fifth, Populonia flourishes and appears to be
untouched by the “crisis” that hits the cities of southern Etruria, as evidenced by the
refined Greek (Attic) objects recovered from the tombs. Both Elba and the eastern
coast of Corsica—especially Aleria—depended on Populonia from the fifth century
when the city seems to grow in power. Its mining- and metallurgy-based wealth can be
seen in the mountains of slag produced from the fifth century onward, which covered
the tumuli of the earlier necropolises and which were so rich in metal that they were
re-smelted in modern times.34 The city reached its height in the early Hellenistic
period; the population seems to spread inland and develops agriculture to enhance
an economy that had been reliant on mineral exploitation.
The Orientalizing and Archaic tombs of Populonia35 share some basic similarities
with those of the neighboring settlements at Vetulonia in that both sites incorporate
burial within the confines of a circular structure. However, whether it is a result of
the restrictions of the terrain (located so close to the beaches) or local preference,
the tumuli in general are smaller than those encountered elsewhere. Recent work
at Populonia has focused on the city itself, especially the dominant and prominent
acropolis, which seems to have been repeatedly terraced in antiquity. The presence of
fragments of decorative terracottas, along with massive foundations, indicates that at
least one important temple would have been found in this area.36
4 Volterra and Environs

As elsewhere in Etruria, the population at the end of the Bronze Age in the northwest-
ern corner of Tuscany is characterized by numerous sporadic settlements along the
coastline from the Gulf of Baratti to the mouth of the Arno. Among these is the site
of Volterra (Etruscan Velathri), located slightly further inland, and accessible from
the coast by the Cecina River.37 It is the largest concentrated settlement in the area,
and appears to have been continuously occupied from as early as the ninth century.
With its seven kilometers of circuit walls, Volterra was the seat of an active produc-
tion center. In the earlier periods, objects of Volterran manufacture can be found as
33 For instance the rich and varied assemblage of the Tomba dei Flabelli: Celuzza and Cianferoni
2010: 83–109. For the Tomba dei Carri: Celuzza and Cianferoni 2010: 110–14.
34 For the industrial production at Populonia: Warden 1983. For an extensive discussion of the
broader context of Etruscan mineral exploitation: Atti Populonia.
35 Zifferero 2000 for funerary architecture at Populonia.
36 For the architecture and other considerations: Romualdi 2002.
37 For full consideration of this city, with bibliography: Atti Volterra. More recently, Camporeale and
Maggiani 2009.

Fig. 71.3: The late Etruscan city gate at Volterra (photo P. G. Warden)
far south as Monteriggioni, and by the Hellenistic period, Volterran pottery is widely
traded. An important sanctuary, probably dedicated to a female divinity of chthonic
character, has been excavated on the acropolis.38 Ritual and devotional activity can
be documented there from the seventh to the second centuries.39 This may be due to
Volterra’s convenient position roughly one day’s journey inland from the coast, along
the Cecina River. Thus it was strategically placed for control of the trade routes from
the coast to the inland areas of the upper Arno, the Senese, and other routes that
carried across the Apennines to the north and northeast. It is interesting to note and
perhaps significant that like Volterra with its proximity to the Cecina, many important
38 Bonamici 2007, 220–21.

39 Bonamici 2007; 2008.

northern sites are strategically placed close to rivers. Artimino overlooks the Arno,
Marsiliana is close to the Albegna, and Poggio Civitate and Roselle are in close prox-
imity to the Ombrone, all rivers that create natural routes from the coast to the interior.
In the ninth century, there is evidence of a settlement in the vicinity of the topmost
plateau (Pian di Castello). In close proximity is the cemetery of Ripaie, with its crema-
tion burials. The city continues to grow and by the eighth century occupies the entire
plateau. The burial customs now include both cremation and inhumation in fossa
tombs, as is common elsewhere in the region. Toward the end of the Villanovan and
the beginning of the Orientalizing periods, Volterra seems to have reached the geo-
graphical extent of its expansion, noticeable by the density of burials especially in the
necropolis of Guerruccia, and by the appearance of small extra urban settlements. In
the Cecina River valley, settlements of this period have been identified at Pomerance,
Sassa, Casale Marittimo, and Montescudaio with necropolises nearby.40 Some set-
tlements enjoyed a longer floruit, while others such as Montescudaio were relatively
short-lived. The number and density of necropolises dating from the fourth to the first
centuries indicate the area was heavily populated and dispersed. The economic base
would appear to be agrarian. The number, size, and construction of the tombs may
indicate a broader and flatter profile to the social landscape. Massive walls and a well-
preserved gate (Fig. 71.3) of later date have been preserved.
New evidence has emerged recently of an Etruscan presence north of Volterra
at minor centers like Legoli41 and Peccioli. These centers are in the region between
Volterra and Pisa, but probably lay within the territory or political orbit of the former.
Excavations at Peccioli have produced an unusually large pit that was filled with a
great variety of fragmented remains from nearby structures (including tiles and
plaster from buildings) as well as prestige items like bronzes and some exceptionally
fine Attic red figure pottery.42 The excavators convincingly suggest that the material
may be the detritus of a sanctuary, and thus perhaps ritually buried; the site has been
labeled as the Sanctuary of Ortaglia.43 Further work in the area northwest of Volterra
will certainly fill in the lacunae of our knowledge of the areas around Livorno and
Pisa.44
40 For the Cecina valley, especially in the later periods: Regoli and Terrenato 2000.
41 Bruni 1999.
42 Bruni 2004a, 18–63. See Bruni 2004b for the demography of the region.
43 Bruni 2007, 226–29.
44 For the Classical and Hellenistic Periods: Bruni 2009, 181–248. Also Regoli and Terrenato 2000.
For Lucca: Zecchini 1999.

5 The settlement at Casalvecchio (Casale Marittimo)

Among the noteworthy settlements in the Cecina River valley is that at Casalvecchio.
The architectural evidence suggests the emergence of a new social pattern developing
during the Orientalizing period, perhaps formalizing the authority of a local chieftain.
Furthermore, fragments of pottery recovered from the area shed some interesting light
on the exchange of gifts among the elite of this and the adjacent regions. The settle-
ment occupied the summit of a small hill.45 Excavations have revealed the existence
of a collection of huts, which appear to have been destroyed toward the end of the
eighth century. In the course of the Orientalizing and Archaic periods, the settlement
occupied the area of the plateau immediately below the acropolis. However, it was in
the fully developed Orientalizing period that a building (Beta) of relatively imposing
size and construction was erected on the site. The dramatic architectural departure
from its predecessors, together with the numerous fragments of refined bucchero
associated with the building have led scholars to conclude that the structure enjoyed
an importance perhaps as a political or ceremonial center for the area. Suggestions
that it may have served as the “reggia” of the settlement echo similar hypotheses
presented for the contemporary “Casa con Recinto” at Roselle and the larger more
complex arrangement at Poggio Civitate. The excavations have revealed that toward
the end of the seventh century, a new and larger structure (Building Gamma—at no
less than 4.5 m × 15 m) was erected over the earlier foundations with an elongated
plan consisting of clay walls reinforced with reeds and strengthened with poles. The
structure was decorated with Gorgon-headed antefixes and painted plaques, and was
probably destroyed by fire and apparently rebuilt without coroplastic decoration. It
was finally destroyed and abandoned in the early decades of the sixth century. Exca-
vations carried out in the 1960s indicate the existence of an intricate system of build-
ings belonging to the Hellenistic period.
Among the ceramic evidence recovered from the vicinity of buildings Beta and
Gamma are a number of cup fragments with incised and impressed decoration of
a type found at Monteriggioni, the Tomba del Duce at Vetulonia, Caere, and more
recently Poggio Civitate. They provide a clear trail of gift exchange among elite fami-
lies from these centers, though one wonders at the circumstances that brought them
to these locations.
45 Esposito 2007, 90–91.

6 Necropolis at Casa Nocera

The nearby necropolis at Casa Nocera consists of a series of tombs situated on a small
mound rising from the plain.46 The tombs chronologically range from the end of the
eighth to the beginning of the sixth century, with the majority clustered around the
middle of the seventh. There are inhumation burials of varying types. While Tomb C
is not the earliest, it is certainly the largest and most elaborately built, and dates to
the second quarter of the seventh century. As they have been robbed, few remains are
preserved from any of these tombs. However, two imposing limestone statues were
recovered in the vicinity, and it is thought that they belonged to the earliest phase of
Tomb C.47 They are striking in their similarity to those recovered from the Tomba della
Pietrera at Vetulonia, and attest to the range of influence of that city in this period.
Together with the “bucchero sottile” from Building Beta, they provide a more nuanced
picture of the interrelationship of elite families during the Orientalizing period.
While the grave deposits for this region are few, due to their removal over time,
the recent discoveries in the area confirm the impression, given by earlier documenta-
tion that Volterra and its environs benefitted from their fortuitous location. The elabo-
rately woven gold chain displaying techniques of filigree and granulation, together
with the elegant gold fibulae attributed to the Tomba di Gesseri48 indicate that certain
elite families in the area were the recipients of opulent gifts like those of their coastal
neighbors. They also corroborate an exchange among elite families between this
region and Vetulonia, and Caere, a conclusion drawn from the presence of similar
“bucchero sottile” recovered from burials in these areas.
7 Poggio Civitate (Murlo)

Traveling from Roselle, up the Ombrone, one reaches the hilltop site of Poggio Civitate
some fifty-five kilometers inland. In some ways, despite its remarkable state of preser-
vation, the site raises more questions than it answers. It presents us with some strik-
ing anomalies when considering Etruscan architectural development. While the site
has produced one monumental building and several subsidiary structures that date
to the sixth century, and three smaller yet equally impressive earlier structures rep-
resentative of occupation on the hill during the Orientalizing period (Figs. 71.4–71.5),
the architectural picture is at best incomplete. One cannot say with certainty that a
village existed on the top of the hill, but it is tempting to imagine that an area so large,
46 Esposito 2001; 2007, 90–95; Celuzza and Cianferoni 2010, 115–22.

47 Esposito 2010, 123–24.
48 Cristofani and Martelli 1983, 121–22 and 273–74.

which could easily have supported a small community, was home to a community
greater than the inhabitants of the currently excavated structures. In the early 1970s,
the discovery of nine fossa tombs on the adjacent Poggio Aguzzo, datable to the early
to mid-seventh century,49 provides a richer context for the architectural picture.
To date, the most notable and frequently discussed architectural units from the
site are located on Piano del Tesoro, near the top of the hill.50 One large building,
60 m × 90 m, datable to the Archaic Period (Fig. 71.6), dominates the plateau. Its foot-
print occupies approximately seventy-five percent of the available building space on
the plateau. The structure is composed of a series of rooms on four equal sides and is
built around a colonnaded courtyard open to the sky. A projecting room at the north-
east corner and another at the southwest corner connected by the extension of the
western wall 30 m to the south, have been interpreted as watchtowers. Construction
began some time shortly after 600. Ceramic evidence in the form of Greek pottery
suggests the building was destroyed toward the last quarter of the sixth century, at
which time the site was apparently abandoned. Though the nature of the destruc-
tion was thorough, and many of the various decorative elements appear to have
been deliberately broken and buried in pits and hollows scattered throughout the
plateau, the archaeologists were left with a relatively uncontaminated context. This
has resulted in the preservation of a large portion of the structure’s decorative terra-
cotta elements, including ridge tiles, pan and cover tiles, antefixes, simas and decora-
tive frieze plaques. Noteworthy are the large statues of human figures, considered by
many to represent ancestors, and the real and mythological creatures, which adorned
the ridge of the roof, as protectors and symbols of power and authority.51
Adjacent to the building are two smaller structures. One lies immediately to the
north of the northern wall and is situated on the very northern edge of the plateau. Its
placement would suggest that the builders were either aware of the impending con-
struction of the larger building or were already constrained by its existence. Ceramic
evidence indicates that it was constructed after the destruction of the Orientalizing
phase of occupation on the site. A second, equally small building lies to the south
of the southern flank. Fragments of imported Greek pottery place the floruit of this
structure toward the last quarter of the sixth century. It is the latest building to have
been standing on the plateau. How this large structure and the adjacent buildings to
the north and south functioned and who destroyed them remain up for discussion.
It would be prudent to reserve judgment regarding the function of the building and
the importance of the site in the region until further exploration on the hill has been
carried out. Piano del Tesoro, while ideally situated on the hill, takes up less than
49 Tuck 2009.
50 The best source for a review of the material still remains Stopponi 1985, 64–154; see also Phillips
1993.
51 Edlund-Berry 1994. See also Tuck 2006.

Fig. 71.4: Poggio Civitate. Reconstruction of the Orientalizing period complex, view from the south
(courtesy Murlo archive)
a quarter of the available area, but the monumental building is not located on the
highest point on the hill. Architecturally, Poggio Civitate documents the continuity of
architectural development on one site, allowing us to see how architectural systems
of decoration developed. This is particularly noticeable in the evolution of the lateral
sima, the frieze plaques and even the acroterial decoration.52
Lying below the foundations of the western flank of the Archaic Building is an
earlier structure (OC1), which for its period would be considered substantial (5.8 m ×
35 m) (Figs. 71.4–71.5). From the materials recovered from the floor of the building, it
would appear to have functioned as a residence for a wealthy Etruscan of the period.53
Architecturally, the building’s roof is crowned with ridgepole decoration in the form
of flat geometric cutouts, vegetal patterns as well as animal and human motifs, a pre-
decessor to the figures in the round which decorated the later structure built over it.
While other decoration directly associated with the building from the find contexts is
lacking, it can be inferred from those elements retrieved from a building situated to
the southwest (OC2), less than 100 meters away and lying at the southernmost edge of
52 Nielsen 1987; 1994. For a more recent and thorough discussion of the architectural terracottas from
the site in the context of Etruscan architectural decoration see Winter 2009.
53 Tuck and Nielsen 2000.

Fig. 71.5: Poggio Civitate. Roofing system of the Upper Orientalizing period complex: Workshop
(courtesy N. Winter)
Piano del Tesoro. This freestanding shed-like structure is devoid of walls and clearly
served as a workshop for the mass production of large scale terracottas, artifacts of
varying size in bronze and carved objects in bone, antler and ivory.54 It is assumed
that ceramic production took place in the near vicinity, if not directly in the building,
though no kiln has been found to date, nor is there evidence of intense heat around
the workshop. It has been assumed that kilns are probably located along the south
slope of the hill. This would allow them to catch the natural updraft and be near
enough to the building for convenience of transporting clay artifacts in the fragile
“greenware” state, but not next to it as a precaution against fire. Evidence of large
containers of grain and carbonized seeds indicate that storage of comestibles was yet
another function of the building. It should be noted that grain was also found stored
in large vessels embedded in the floor of OC1. Remarkably, for so utilitarian a build-
ing, the roof was elaborately decorated with geometric cutouts of the type associated
with OC1. In addition, a fully functioning lateral sima with applied female heads and
hand-modeled lion spouts, in an earlier stage of development than that found on the
archaic structure, decorated the lower terminus of the roof. The recovery of an unfired
54 Nielsen 1993.

Fig. 71.6: Poggio Civitate. Reconstruction of the archaic period structure, view from the southeast
(courtesy A. Tuck)
frieze plaque from the floor of the workshop, devoid of relief decoration and probably
painted with scenes in its final stage also points to the evolution of that decorative
form on the site. Its successor, which adorned the Archaic building, is almost identi-
cal in all dimensions, and was decorated with scenes in low relief accentuated by
paint.
Between the workshop and the residence, the excavators have uncovered a third
structure (OC3), a tripartite building with large foundation walls.55 The relatively large
thickness of the walls suggests that the builders were inexperienced with supporting
a heavy tile roof, and thus overcompensated by constructing thicker walls than neces-
sary. This in turn suggests a first attempt at tile roofed construction on the site soon to
be followed by other buildings with more appropriate walls as confidence and experi-
ence in the system grew. The excavators see in this building one of the early examples
of a transition in construction from a thatched roof to a tiled one. More recent excava-
tion in the area, in an attempt to provide greater clarity, has brought to light fragments
of bucchero sottile vessels lying on the floor and within the building.56 They are of
a style associated with cups manufactured at Caere and perhaps Populonia. These
cups, with their distinctive decorative patterns, incised, impressed and in relief have
been identified as indicators of gift exchange among the elite. Similar vessels have
been found at Caere, Vetulonia, Populonia, Monteriggioni, and Casale Marittimo, to
name a few sites. These vessels were recovered from the floor of the building, and
so it is tempting to see evidence of the building’s usage as a religious or ceremonial
structure and of a type suggested for the “Casa con Recinto” at Roselle and Building
55 Tuck and Nielsen 2000, 35–63.

56 Tuck and Nielsen 2008, 49–66.

Beta/Gamma at Casale Marittimo. The formal arrangement of the rooms in OC3, with
two wings flanking a central “cella” of twice the length, reinforces the impression of a
building dedicated to ritual use.
All three buildings of the Orientalizing period at Poggio Civitate are tied together
chronologically by stratigraphy and appear to have been destroyed by a single con-
flagration some time at the end of the seventh century. In this complex of three build-
ings, it is tempting to see the functional predecessor to the Archaic structure that
dominated the site in the early sixth century. The elements of a residence, atelier and
ceremonial/public center may be inferred in the later structure in three of the four
wings that comprise the Upper Building together with what may have been an altar,
located in the central courtyard adjacent to the western flank. The construction date
for these buildings is still a matter of discussion.
The decoration of the Archaic building, and that associated with its predecessor
has most recently been placed in a chronological sequence of architectural decoration
found in Italy by Nancy Winter.57 In her exhaustive study, the author dates the deco-
rative elements of the Archaic building to ca. 580–575, with the possibility of some
later replacements manufactured ca. 550–525. Those from the Orientalizing structure
are placed between 640 and 630 in the sequential development of Italic terracottas;
Winter observes that they constitute some of the earliest and most elaborate examples
of Etruscan roof decorations. It is hard to imagine, however, that the elaborately deco-
rated buildings of the OC were first attempts; they too must find their origins in earlier
systems. Yet for the moment, the Orientalizing Complex at Poggio Civitate provides
us with the earliest elaborately developed system yet uncovered in the region and
its successor, the Archaic Building, is the earliest monumental structure to make its
appearance in the Archaic period in northern Etruria. Paradoxically, no large tumuli
have been identified to date that compare to those at other well-known sites for which
equally elaborate architecture has yet to be uncovered. What are we to conclude? Why
is the Archaic Complex sitting on the top of Poggio Civitate and what was its function?
Where is the settlement associated with it?
Establishing a coherent chronology for the site is problematic. The building
complex has no contemporary tombs, and conversely, the Poggio Aguzzo tombs appear
to be slightly earlier than the building dates normally assigned to the structures on
Poggio Civitate.58 One may conclude that we have yet to find these earlier structures
on the hill, given its considerable size, or we may have to reconsider the chronol-
57 Winter 2009, 198–208.

58 For a comprehensive discussion of the burials and their contents, Tuck 2009, especially 16–23
and 83–98. Nine simple fossa graves with inhumation burials have been uncovered to date. They are
located on the hill adjacent to Poggio Civitate less than one kilometer northwest of Piano del Tesoro.
The grave goods are mostly composed of local ceramics together with fibulae, and a scattering of
bronze and iron weapons. Several examples of pottery contemporary with the elite gifts from the
Tomba del Duce have been recognized. Chronologically, the Poggio Aguzzo material would seem to

ogy currently assigned to the material from Poggio Civitate and Poggio Aguzzo. Is it
possible to push back the chronology of the Orientalizing period buildings to more
closely fit the tomb material or should we push down the dates of the tomb material to
conform more closely with Winter’s chronological sequence? How does Poggio Civi-
tate aid in our constructing an accurate picture of an Etruscan settlement? If tombs
are to be any indications, should we expect to see houses of monumentality, congru-
ent with tombs of the period? If the simple “fossa tombs” of Poggio Aguzzo are associ-
ated with the inhabitants of Piano del Tesoro in the late Orientalizing period, where
are their houses? Is the inhabitant of the monumental Archaic complex on Piano del
Tesoro interred with his family on Poggio Aguzzo? Is there a monumental tumulus in
the vicinity yet to be discovered? If the fossa tombs relate to the monumental complex
and its predecessors, what can we expect architecturally in residences at Vetulonia
and Populonia? To some degree, the answer may be provided in the OC complex on
Piano del Tesoro. The material lying on the floor of OC1 has strong parallels with
material found in the Montagnola tumulus at Sesto Fiorentino. The gold work, ivory/
antler and the ceramics show a chronological relationship. Hence we may associate
this tomb type with this residence, and by extension with the “cousins” of the Sesto
tomb who were interred in the monumental tumuli of Populonia and Vetulonia. What
remains a puzzle is the dearth of architectural terracottas at these and other impor-
tant period sites. If structures as simple in function as the workshop on Piano del
Tesoro can enjoy elaborate decoration, why have so few pieces come to light at sites
other than Poggio Civitate and Acquarossa? It cannot be due to the fragility of the
material or their reuse in another fashion. If the elaborate decoration of these build-
ings is an attempt by their owners to display social status and to serve as a statement
of their lineage, then it might be reasonable to assume that these elements of distinc-
tion would be destroyed by succeeding generations in an attempt to restate the new
social order. In any event, their presence on these buildings reinforces the interpreta-
tion that the site of Poggio Civitate enjoyed a position of considerable importance in
the region during its floruit.
8 The Colline Metallifere, Massa Marittima

and the Lago dell’Accesa
The Colline Metallifere provided the Etruscans with vast natural resources that were
fundamental to the wealth of Populonia, and Vetulonia, the major Etruscan urban
centers in the region, but also the other centers farther north and south, which must
fit comfortably in the middle of the seventh century, providing some small overlap with the earliest
pieces from the Orientalizing Complex on Poggio Civitate.

have directly profited from the trade in metals.59 Lago dell’Accesa60 provides an inter-
esting contrast architecturally to Poggio Civitate. The site, predominantly dedicated
to supporting the mining activity in the area, undoubtedly housed individuals con-
nected to the mineral exploitation.61 While the houses are modest in comparison to
the size and decoration of the main Archaic structure at Poggio Civitate, several of the
buildings exceed the dimensions of the peripheral structures at that site. These have
been identified by the excavators as homes of the “upper middle class,” a supposition
presumably based on their relative size, the number of rooms and the array of mate-
rial found within. In several cases, the excavator alludes to scoops as ritual objects
and conjectures that ceremonial and religious activities were carried out.
The buildings are randomly placed with no visible symmetry or order. There is
no central space around which the houses are oriented. The alignment of some of
the structures and the close proximity in which they are placed suggest they were
standing in different periods. No reference is made to architectural terracottas, and it
is assumed that the houses were simply roofed with pan and cover tiles but devoid of
decoration. Several of the buildings are relatively large, although there are few com-
parisons from other sites in northern Etruria. Buildings here range between twenty
and thirty meters in length, with irregular interior divisions creating five to seven
rooms. The irregularity may be due in part to different construction periods or later
remodeling. The larger buildings do approximate the size of OC1 at Poggio Civitate,
absent the architectural decoration.
If we are to assume these are the homes of “upper middle class managers,” as
has been suggested, can we expect to find similar structures at Poggio Civitate? In
the North and South Buildings, can one see structures designed to house managers
responsible for overseeing the activity on the hill? Or do we have a different social
order? Is it possible that further excavation on the hill will produce a habitation area
not unlike what has been uncovered at Lago dell’Accesa? The proximity of tombs
to the houses at Lago dell’Accesa is also interesting, though the two constructions
may not be contemporary. A similar situation may have existed at Poggio Civitate,
where small tombs, plundered at an earlier date, were found near an artisan area
some 200 meters to the west of the Archaic buildings on Piano del Tesoro. Thus, Lago
dell’Accesa provides us with a site that is contemporary with the Archaic complex at
Poggio Civitate, but considerably different in layout, size and monumentality. Again
it reinforces the importance within the community of the complex on Poggio Civitate,
if size and decoration are considered as significant indicators. The modesty of the
59 For which see Warden 1983, and also: Atti Populonia.

60 For the site, with previous bibliography: Camporeale 2010.
61 For the settlement, see Camporeale, 1997; for tombs, Camporeale 2000. Also Camporeale and
Giuntoli 2000.

construction at Lago dell’Accesa is in high contrast to the elaborate construction and

architectural embellishment lavished on the Archaic Building at Poggio Civitate.
9 Chiusi, Sarteano and Environs

If one compares the richness of Chiusi’s grave offerings with those found near the
coastal cities, Chiusi evidently did not figure predominantly in the Orientalizing
Period, but made its appearance felt more strongly in the Archaic Period and later.
Chiusi exerted a significant influence on the surrounding regions with its artistic pro-
duction. By the Archaic Period, its distinct artistic style is ubiquitous in the north
central portion of Etruria, particularly manifested through its production of “buc-
chero pesante” and stamped decoration produced by roulette. Cremation remained
popular and a particular form, the Canopic urn, became associated with the city and
its immediate environs.
Chiusi has received significant attention by archaeologists and historians,
perhaps because Livy mentions one of its kings—Porsenna—in the history of early
Rome. Little if anything has been recovered of the Etruscan city itself, and much
of our knowledge is gleaned from the numerous necropolises that spread out in
various directions from Chiusi and Sarteano: Poggio Renzo, Fornace, Fonte all’Aia
and Solaia, Sferracavalli respectively. Despite its size, Chiusi’s artisans appear to
have wielded considerable influence, and their distinct style can be found through-
out Etruria in the Archaic and succeeding period, especially in bucchero production
in relief and stamped ware (cylinder seals). While bucchero pesante from Chiusi is
ubiquitous and evidence of the city’s commercial health in the Archaic and Clas-
sical period, few examples of bucchero sottile of the Orientalizing period has been
recovered to date.
It has been noted that Chiusi did not enjoy the benefits of being on the coast or
located in a mineral-rich area like many of her neighbors. However, the seventh-
century Plikasnas situla provides evidence of contact with the eastern world at a
time contemporary with the appearance of similar objects on the coast and to the
south. The vessel has been described by Marina Cristofani Martelli as possibly the
product of an immigrant worker for a local client in Caere, and it displays aspects
of style common to the Levant. The Pania pyxis, an elegant container elaborately
carved from an elephant tusk, shows the growing influence of Greek narrative in
the decorative scheme. Stylistically, the work reflects the influence of Vulci and
has been dated from associated grave finds to the last quarter of the seventh and
the early sixth century, providing further testimony to the interaction among elite
families between the Agro Chiusino and the coast during the late Orientalizing
period.

During the Iron Age, the inhabitants of Chiusi and its neighboring areas appeared
to enjoy a level of equality. Burials manifest little differentiation in size or wealth of
grave goods. At Sarteano, documentation of the ninth century Villanovan period is
scarce. There are, however, numerous examples of tombs from the eighth century
and the transitional period between the Villanovan and the Early Orientalizing. The
necropolis of Sferracavalli, which was excavated by Bargagli, stands out in impor-
tance for the number of tombs—150—of which twelve were a ziro of the Orientalizing
Period and the rest were a pozzetto. Although the number of tombs increases dramati-
cally during the Villanovan period and the scattering of necropolises suggests a dif-
fusion of settlements in the area, the ceramic evidence recovered remains relatively
poor and is probably an accurate indicator of the relative prosperity of the region
when compared to its coastal neighbors.
In the course of the seventh century, the full Orientalizing Period, the terri-
tory of Sarteano, and the entire Agro Chiusino, as manifested by the emergence
of necropolises and their grave deposits, begins to show a period of awakening.
Growth and prosperity continues through the late Orientalizing and through the
Archaic periods, as evidenced by the emergence of chamber tombs containing
“Canopics” on thrones (Fig. 48.3). As with the “circoli di pietre” characteristic of
the emerging coastal settlements, this distinctive burial type has been cited as an
indication of social demarcation illustrating the emergence of family burials under
a pater gentilis and breaking away from the earlier more equitable distribution seen
in Villanovan necropolises. Such a distinction would appear to have developed
somewhat later in this region than on the coast. Totally lacking at Sarteano are the
throne or bronze ossuaries documented in the necropolises of Chiusi and in the
latest discoveries at Chianciano, which are symptomatic of an aristocratic wealth
that began to manifest itself in burials with all the symbols and attributes of power
tied to control and the agricultural richness of the area. The fact that the area’s eco-
nomic base was centered on agriculture, resulting in a different social landscape,
may explain why the city of Chiusi itself remained geographically limited and why
settlement was dispersed in a manner that is characteristic of northern Etruria. The
elite clans in the region lived outside the city, controlling large tracts of land and
employing workers that lived in smaller settlements.
In the sixth century, one sees the presence of settlements in the area of Solaia
and Mulin Canale, but there was a gradual movement—which became stronger in the
succeeding century—toward the Astrone River and the areas under the central hegem-
ony of Chiusi. In the area of Pianacce, a few monumental tombs were excavated by
Guglielmo Maetzke in the 1950s that contain material from the Archaic through Hel-
lenistic periods and indicate the presence of aristocratic families that used the burial
sites for successive generations. The richness of the grave deposits and the source
of much of their inspiration illustrate the wealth of those interred and speak to the
general impact of Chiusi on the region. In the late 1990s, the discovery of chamber
tombs in a fifth-century necropolis in the area of Palazzina, with deposits of Attic red

figure and Etruscan black figure give further testimony to the wealth of the local elite
and to the prosperity of the region.62 The grave goods and tomb typologies provide
close parallels with those coexisting in the necropolis of La Pedata at Chianciano and
to a somewhat lesser degree those in the necropolis of urban Chiusi. The discovery
of the remarkable Tomba della Quadriga Infernale63 in the Pianacce Necropolis with
the well preserved remains of elaborately painted walls dramatically illustrates the
level of sophistication reached by the elites of Sarteano. It also presents a radically
different iconography of the afterlife in the eponymous scene of a red-haired figure
(a demon?) riding a chariot drawn by two lions and two griffins. A banquet scene is
somewhat more conventional, but a monumental coil of snakes once again places it
in an otherworldly context. While the iconography is extraordinary, the manner of
decoration connects Sarteano to other sites with monumental tomb painting, includ-
ing Chiusi, Orvieto, and even Tarquinia. Further excavation in the Pianacce necropo-
lis is bringing to light more chamber tombs and even a “theatriform” area for the per-
formance of funerary rites. Clearly Chiusi and environs were home to well-connected
wealthy and sophisticated families.
During the Hellenistic period, Sarteano experiences continued growth as one
finds elsewhere in the Agro Chiusino. There are new settlements and a reflourishing
in the area of Mulin Canale and Solaia, documented by various tombs of differing
typologies. In the Hellenistic period, we find a settlement associated with the necrop-
olis in the area of Le Tombe, from which came most of the Collezione Bargagli, now
in the archaeological museum in Siena. Further evidence of continued growth in the
area can be seen from the statue fragments of a pediment now displayed in the Chiusi
Archaeological Museum, which are said to belong to a sanctuary in the vicinity of
Astrona.
The only settlement discovered in the area of Sarteano, and presumably dating to
the third–second centuries, is that documented in an unpublished note by Guglielmo
Maetzke, based on trenches dug in 1957 in the area of Aiola to the south of the center
of Sarteano on the road to Radicofani. Excavations uncovered a foundation of traver-
tine blocks, numerous tiles and black glazed pottery.64 The social organization associ-
ated with this settlement model is the same explained by Cristofani for the entire agro
Chiusino, one of small agricultural farmers in a familial relationship that produced
grapes and is corroborated by the discovery of a tomb at Mulin Canale with thirty-nine
niches cut into the dromos beside the contemporary monumental burial chamber.
This societal arrangement apparently coexisted with elite families whose burials were
comprised of more imposing funeral chambers.
62 Minetti and Rastrelli 2001. For new data about Chiusi see Gastaldi 1998 and Chiusi 2000.
63 For a complete discussion with excellent color photographs and full bibliography: Minetti 2006.
For another painted tomb from this area: Rastrelli 2003, 94–99.
64 Minetti 1997, 28.

10 Arezzo, Cortona, and the Val di Chiana

As it is today, the area between and around the important cities of Arezzo and Cortona
must have been extremely fertile in antiquity, and the agricultural wealth would have
enriched the nearby cities. In fact, the plains around Arezzo (Etrusci campi) are men-
tioned by Livy as particularly prosperous and a prime target for Hannibal during
the second Punic War (Livy 22.3.3–6). The land around Arezzo was notably fertile in
Roman times, and the city is strategically placed with connections that must have
facilitated trade both within Etruria and with non-Etruscan areas across the Apen-
nines.65 Arezzo contributed large quantities of arms and grain to the Roman cause
and the expedition against Hannibal in Africa in 205 (Livy 28.45.16–17). Although
Arezzo was certainly an important city by the fifth century, little is known of its early
history, and its foundation is possibly later than other cities in the northern interior.
The earliest necropolis, Poggio del Sole, southeast of the city, dates to the sixth and
fifth centuries.66 Not much is known about the city in this period, but the presence
of important Greek imports—for instance the remarkable Attic red figure krater by
Euphronios, now in the Arezzo Museum—attest to lively trade with the Greek world.
Arezzo figures prominently in Roman sources, especially for the later Hellenistic
Period.67 It remains an important center into the Roman period, particularly notewor-
thy for its ceramic production. The city itself is now covered by later remains, but it
doubtless included the area between the Duomo and the high parts of the hill. Despite
the lack of archaeological evidence, what remains documents a variety of religious
areas: a votive deposit near S. Lorentino that included the famous Chimaera, more
votive deposits connected to a cult area at Fonte Veneziana, architectural terracottas
from a temple near S. Iacopo, and sanctuaries in the broader region, ranging from
Castelsecco (third century) to Pieve Socana where a well preserved altar of the fifth
century has been discovered. Farther to the north, Arezzo must have had connections
to important cult centers such as the sanctuary at Monte Falterona, at a small pond
that marked the headwaters of the Arno in the Apennines. Here massive amount of
bronzes of every type were dedicated, from the well-known statues that now grace
major museums in New York, Paris, London, and St. Petersburg, to masses of small
weapons, implements, and aes rude.
The area between Arezzo and Cortona was once defined by the Clanis River
and includes what must have been small hilltop towns of no mean importance, like
Castiglion Fiorentino, where recent work, especially in the area of Torre Cassero,68 has
produced evidence for a flourishing settlement from at least the sixth century onward.
65 Vilucchi 2009.
66 Scarpellini Testi 1995, 371.
67 Schiatti 1995.
68 Paoli and Zamarchi Grassi 2002, 23–32.

a b
Fig. 71.7: Two bronze figurines from the Brolio deposit: a. male;
b. female (photo SAT)
Not far from Castiglion Fiorentino, one of the most exceptional deposits of bronzes
was excavated in 1863.69 The Brolio deposit included four large figurines—three male
and one female—that clearly served as supports, possibly for a basin or as the base
for a piece of furniture (Fig. 71.7a–b). A plausible hypothetical reconstruction would
have the three male warriors moving (or dancing?) around the centrally placed female
(a goddess?). Smaller animal figures might have decorated other parts of this object.
The Brolio deposit is often referred to as votive, a term that is used generically for any
sort of deposit, thus part of a sanctuary setting, but the exact nature of this early and
unusual deposit remains in question.
69 Romualdi 1981.

Fig. 71.8: Cortona, tumulus Sodo II: plan (courtesy SAT)
The city of Cortona is located in a dominant and defensible position that backs
up against high hills and faces west towards the Val di Chiana and Lago Trasimeno.70
The general layout of the city can still be discerned today even if the urban fabric of
70 For a detailed summary of recent work, see Bruschetti et al. 2011.

Fig. 71.9: Cortona, tumulus Sodo II: altar (photo SAT)
later periods covers the Etruscan city. Massive Etruscan walls still girdle the lower
part of the city, and the high acropolis is now covered by a Medici fortress. Tombs
and a possible hut serve as slight evidence of Villanovan occupation, but the city
clearly comes to prominence in the Orientalizing period when large tumuli are built
far below the city on the plain in the vicinity of modern Camucia.71 These tumuli are
in proximity to Orientalizing grave circles from even earlier, from the middle of the
seventh century. Small soundings in the city proper have turned up good quantities of
seventh-century bucchero, but the preponderance of evidence once again comes from
the rich cemeteries. Particularly notable are the Melone del Sodo I and II, enormous
tumuli that signify the rising power of the ruling elites (Fig. 71.8). The recent discovery
of a monumental stone funerary altar connected to the Sodo II tumulus, which has
been known since the nineteenth century, along with evidence of other structures,
provides evidence for the rituals and symbolism associated with funerary cults. The
altar (Fig. 71.9) has a typical Etruscan stone podium and a steep staircase that leads
to the platform. The antae of the staircase are decorated with scenes of mortal combat
between a warrior and a lion.72 In each case, a massive seated feline has within its
grasp a male warrior, who is driving a sword into the side of the predator, a remark-
able image of two beings becoming one while at the same time killing each other.
71 Bruschetti and Zamarchi Grassi 1994.

72 See Zamarchi Grassi 1992, pls. 25–29. Also Bruschetti and Zamarchi Grassi 1994.

Fig. 71.10: Gonfienti: general view of House 3 (photo P.G. Warden)
The scale of the Cortona altar, apart from the sculptural decoration, is indicative of
ancestor veneration that suggests heroization if not actual deification of ancestors.73
Cortona remains an important city through the Hellenistic period. The impressive
walls were added in the sixth or fifth century, and there is abundant evidence from
Cortona, Camucia, and even nearby Ossaia of cult places or sanctuaries, much of
which is revealed by the find spots of the abundant bronzes that grace the Cortona
Museum. Two finds are exceptional. One is the famous bronze lamp found in a field
in the vicinity of Cortona, which is one of the most massive and elaborate of Etruscan
bronzes and a testament to the quality of metal production in the Val di Chiana. The
other is the Tabula Cortonensis, which is of interest, apart from the inscription that
seems to relate to real estate transactions, in the way it was purposely cut into pieces,
perhaps as part of a ritual (Fig. 38.2). The splendid metal production from this area
becomes even more remarkable when we factor in the Brolio deposit, the Chimaera of
Arezzo, the Arringatore, and even the recently restored Minerva, now considered an
original work of the Hellenistic period.
73 Warden 2009a. For ancestor worship: Camporeale 2008, with extensive bibliography.

Fig. 71.11: Stela from Londa (photo SAT)
11 Fiesole and the Agro Fiorentino

The area around Florence, what Francesco Nicosia called the Agro Fiorentino,74
presents a case study of demography and urban development that is characteristic
of northern Etruria. This includes a loose agglomeration of various types of settle-
ments—from hilltop towns surrounded by necropolises (such as Artimino), to orthog-
onally planned cities in the manner of Marzabotto to the north, and the recently
discovered site of Gonfienti. The major city in the area, according to later sources,
was Fiesole (Lat. Fiesulae), a site that came to prominence only after the classical
period, at least judging from the scant evidence of earlier material that has come to
light to date—primarily scant fragmentary ceramics of the Villanovan and Orientaliz-
ing periods. Settlement must have been concentrated on the two highest points, San
Francesco and Sant’Apollinare, and it is only in the later Archaic period that the site
demonstrates better evidence of significant material culture, including late Archaic
terracottas, a fragment of which has been identified as an altar,75 and a votive deposit
in the former Villa Marchi. Certainly by the fourth century, Fiesole was the dominant
site, judging by the preserved remains of fortification walls, a temple embedded in
the fabric of later Roman construction, and historical sources that attest to the site’s
importance. The picture that emerges, however, is that before the fourth century
74 Nicosia 1974.
75 Bruni 1994.

Fig. 71.12: Kilns in the Podere Funghi, production areas associated with the sanctuary of Poggio
Colla (photo Mugello Valley Archaeological Project)
Fiesole is no more significant than any of the other sites in in the area, including Sesto
and its imposing Orientalizing tombs (Montagnola and La Mula), and even the plain
of Florence itself, where Villanovan burials have been found at both Peretola and in
the center of the modern city.76 Far more impressive than Fiesole are the Oriental-
izing tombs at Comeana and Montefortini, as well as the remains of the settlement,
unfortunately much disturbed by later building, in the area of the Villa Medicea at
Artimino.77 Recent work has also produced what may very well be a sanctuary on the
dominant acropolis of Pietramarina.78 Artimino and Comeana, with their rich tomb
groups of the Orientalizing Period, document the wealth of early elites at strategically
placed settlements scattered around the Florence basin.79 That the area continued to
76 Salvini 1990, 117–43.

77 For the region: Bettini and Poggesi 2000.
78 Bettini 2008.
79 Poggesi 1999; Comune di Carmignano 2006; Maggiani 2008.

be prosperous is clear from the new discoveries at Gonfienti, a site in the plain of what
is now the area between Prato and Florence (Fig. 71.10).
Gonfienti was rationally laid out on a grid, and the orientation of the city is said
to mirror that found across the Apennines at Marzabotto. Whether this is by trans-
Apennine design or the result of standardized religious precepts in the laying out and
ordering of cities is a fascinating question. The excavators at Gonfienti have care-
fully excavated an elite residence that takes up an entire block, rather different in
this sense from the houses at Marzabotto that constitute parts of insulae. The house is
of the peristyle type, arranged around a porticoed courtyard that opens onto a large
dining area in the back. The portico was decorated with figural antefixes, and the
ceramics found crushed in the dining area include Attic red figure vases of astonish-
ing quality.80
The scattered settlement pattern in the Agro Fiorentino can also be found in the
neighboring areas of Mugello and Val di Sieve, the liminal areas northeast of Florence
that provided access to Bologna and Etruria Padana. That there was a cultural con-
tinuum in the Arno valley and its tributaries (Agro Fiorentino, Val di Sieve, Mugello,
and even farther downstream from Artimino) is clear from the find spots of the “pietre
Fiesolane,” a series of funerary stelae and cippi (Fig. 71.11) that provide a virtual guide
to the demography of these areas in the sixth and fifth centuries.81 Although almost
every one of these funerary reliefs had been removed from its original position in an
Etruscan cemetery, their general find spots document the many small and scattered
settlements that must only have coalesced into a larger polity, presumably domi-
nated by Fiesole, after the fifth century. In the Mugello and Val di Sieve, important
settlements existed at Londa, Frascole (Dicomano), and San Piero a Sieve. The latter,
judging from a now-destroyed Orientalizing tumulus on the valley floor, has the earli-
est documentable Etruscan presence, but recent work at the settlement and sanctuary
of Poggio Colla (Vicchio) is producing rich Orientalizing-period evidence, and more
that is possibly even earlier.
The acropolis sanctuary of Poggio Colla prospered from at least the seventh
century until its destruction, probably at the hands of the Romans in the second cen-
tury.82 The settlement included production areas, as in Cetamura (Fig. 71.12),83 that
must certainly have been connected to the economic agency of the sanctuary itself,
which was strategically placed in a dominant position at the juncture of two discrete
areas, the broad Mugello basin and the narrowing defiles of the Val di Sieve, which
afford access to the Arno and the Agro Fiorentino. The sanctuary, which in recent
80 Bettini and Poggesi 2000, 58–71; Poggesi et al. 2005; Poggesi et al. 2007.
81 Nicosia 1966; de Marinis G. 1996; Capecchi 1996; and most recently Cappuccini et al. 2009.
82 Warden et al. 2005, with previous bibliography. More recently: Warden 2009b.
83 The artisan areas and settlement surrounding the sanctuary are summarized by Thomas 2000.

years has produced abundant information about ritual activity,84 had at least four
phases of occupation. The earliest, identified by traces of hut foundations, may be
associated with two heavily carbonized strata that predate the first stone architecture
and are filled with bucchero and buccheroid impasto that date to at least as early
as the middle of the seventh century. Subsequent to this early horizon, there are at
least three building phases that have been discussed in detail elsewhere.85 In Phase
I, possibly in the late sixth or fifth century, a monumental temple was built on the
acropolis. The temple was destroyed and replaced by two subsequent courtyard com-
plexes. The first of these (Phase II) measures approximately 11 by 20 m and had a large
central altar as well as change in axis. Phase III continued the courtyard plan, with
only minor changes in layout but with rubble rather than ashlar foundations. What is
interesting about the transition from Phase I to II, from podium temple to courtyard
structure, is that the temple parts were ritually treated, and that these ritual actions
are mirrored in the many votive or ritual deposits at the site.86
12 Pisa and Liguria

Etruscan Pisa was relatively unknown until the excavations and research of Stefano
Bruni revealed an Etruscan presence as early as the Orientalizing period. Bruni care-
fully excavated a tumulus with a large stone altar placed at its summit.87 The altar
seems to have been used and ritually broken, and traces of a sacrificial knife, four iron
spits, an iron trident (again, ritually broken), and the jaw of a horse were found in situ.
Because the main chamber of the tumulus did not contain a body, Bruni surmised
that the tomb belonged to an Etruscan noble, a princeps gentis, who had been lost at
sea. Most interesting is the fact that the upper part of the tumulus was used as a cem-
etery from around 700 to the fifth century, as a place for smaller tombs for succeed-
ing generations of descendants of the noble ancestor. Here the altar has become the
centerpiece of an elaborate genealogical setting that connects the living with the dead
and that endows privileged status through connection with a hero-ancestor, possibly
one whose status has been ritually established through the sacrifice of a horse and
the destruction of the altar. The tumulus is surrounded by cippi and stelai, some of
which are inscribed with the names of family members, creating a tableaux vivant of
elite genealogy.
84 For a summary of the ritual contexts and their possible interpretation: Warden 2009b; Warden
2010.
85 A summary of these phases can be found in Warden et al. 2005.
86 Warden 2009b; Warden 2010.
87 Bruni 1998, 105–107; Floriani and Bruni 2006. For the region, see also Bruni 2009.

The area around Lucca and the north has recently received more attention and
has become more archaeologically visible thanks to the research of Giulio Ciampol-
trini. An Etruscan presence is clear at Garfagnana88 and at the edges of Liguria,89
but the boundary between Etruria must have been mutable, and relationships
between these two peoples would certainly have changed over the course of the
first millennium. As with much of northern Etruria, there is much to be learned, no
more so than in the liminal mountainous areas that separated the Etruscans from
their neighbors.
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Andrea Zifferero
72 Settlement Patterns and Land Use
Abstract: The term “landscape” means the outcome of the changes wrought by man on the environ-
ment in the course of extracting resources useful for survival. Defining the Etruscan landscape is the
result of recent studies, which on the one hand have analyzed and classified the features of rural
sites and on the other have reconstructed specific characteristics of the environment in pre-Roman
antiquity. Research on the landscape is based above all on field walking, which, through targeted
surveys that explore specific regions in Etruria in an integrated way, has revealed a significant body
of information on open sites since the first British studies in and around the city of Veii. These open
sites—which are typically small (usually less than 1 ha of scattered surface finds of domestic ceram-
ics and building materials), are located near arable land, and are completely lacking defenses—have
long been interpreted as the fundamental Etruscan productive unit on the basis of their agricultural
production (particularly the cultivation of grapes and olives, integrated with cereals) and livestock.
This chapter presents the historical evolution of the rural settlement system. In the Late Iron Age, the
growth of the city and the reoccupation of settlements on smaller plateaus by some of the aristocracy
produced a stable form of ownership in the countryside, with large estates owned by Etruscan aristoi
who used members of the lower classes or slaves for agricultural labor. Between the late seventh and
the early sixth century BCE, however, a profound change in Etruscan society can be observed, which
coincides with the rise of open sites. These sites highlight direct contact with arable land on the part
of the resident population of the countryside: the presence of small, mid-level necropolises connected
with open sites assumes a stable form of land ownership declared by the burial. Archaeological data
indicate the emergence of a middle class in the Archaic period that was capable of producing a signifi-
cant agricultural surplus to be transported on commercial routes through the western Mediterranean
and particularly directed toward the Celts between the sixth and the mid fifth centuries. The chapter
thus offers a synthesis of the principal problems involved with analysis of the Etruscan landscape
and presents a synoptic view of the development of the rural population in southern Etruria from the
Orientalizing period to the Roman conquest, which occurred between the early fourth and early third
centuries.
Keywords: Rural landscape; open sites; agricultural production; land control; commerce
1 Definition of the Etruscan landscape and methods

of study
If “landscape” is understood to mean the outcome of the changes wrought by man
on the environment in the course of extracting resources useful for survival, then
defining the Etruscan landscape is the result of many recent studies. Only in the last
few years, in fact, has research into the Etruscan countryside (understood as the area
around a settlement), with the critical contribution of field walking, reached a suit-
able level of complexity. On the one hand, attention is concentrated on the distinctive
features of rural sites, which are marked by limited, scattered finds of ceramics and
building materials; on the other, a multidisciplinary approach between Etruscology
Fig. 72.1: Distribution of archaeological sites identified during the Ager

Faliscus survey (1966–71), under the direction of Timothy W. Potter.
The circle around Narce marks the extent of a hypothetical territory of
5 km radius. (I) Bronze Age; (II) ca. tenth–eighth centuries; (III)
ca. seventh–sixth centuries; (IV) ca. fifth–fourth centuries
(after Potter 1976; courtesy The British School at Rome)
and the natural sciences is increasing knowledge of the domestication of the grape
and the olive in an effort to identify continuities between the ancient and the modern
countryside. In its geomorphology and soil, as well as its climate and rainfall, Etruria

72 Settlement Patterns and Land Use 1341
Fig. 72.2: Distribution of open sites (end of the seventh–sixth century) in the eastern countryside
of Caere: (crosshatching) the plateau of Caere and the port of Alsium; (black circles) small open
sites; (open circles) large open sites; (black triangles) rural necropolises; (dotted areas) extensive
necropolises; (asterisks) cult places; (crosses) generic finds (drawing by F. Enei; courtesy of F. Enei)
is an ideal region for the practice of Mediterranean polyculture, which comprises the
integrated cultivation of grapes, olives, and mixed cereals, side by side with livestock.1
Research on the landscape and agricultural use of the soil owes much to British
archaeology, in particular to the methodology developed for the South Etruria Project,
which was established by John Ward Perkins at the beginning of the 1950s. Here the
exceptional visibility resulting from agrarian reform around the city of Veii allowed
1 On environment and landscape, see chapter 69. Perkins; see also Barker 1981; Rendeli 1993, 115–53;
Barker and Rasmussen 1998, 11–42; and Spivey and Stoddart 1990, 21–37. On archaeobotanical and
biomolecular research on grapes and olives, see Ciacci, Barbieri, and Zifferero 2010; Ciacci, Rendini,
and Zifferero 2012; Fiorentino 2011; Zifferero 2012.

surveys that resulted in an immense quantity of data, with the development of the
first typological and chronological parameters for the classification of open sites in
Etruria (Figs. 72.1, 72.2).2
One difficulty to be addressed is the predominantly historical perspective of the
topographical analyses conducted by Italian scholars, who were unaccustomed to
considering the complex stratification of the landscape or to approaches recogniz-
ing long periods of environmental development. The history of agricultural produc-
tion and several outlines of the Etruscan food supply system have used literary and
iconographical sources, underestimating the contribution of the soil, climatic, and
agronomic analyses that can clarify the nature and suitability of soils for cultivation.
Archaeological data have also been employed in discussions of the use of food in
ritual contexts (e.g., the composition of funerary goods), or trade in agricultural prod-
ucts (e.g., the distribution of amphorae), but the considerable body of information
on the handling and cooking of foodstuffs conveyed by domestic ceramics has been
practically ignored.3
Full recognition of the different types of settlements, as implied by the structure
of the rural fabric, is still hindered by the paucity of knowledge of the topography of
Etruscan cities, the complex nature of which has sometimes been highlighted by the
identification of a suburban zone occupied by necropolises and cult places as well as
minor centers and farms, distinct from the zone deeper into the countryside. These
features have been the focus of research on the formation and composition of terri-
tory controlled by the city and on the close relationship that existed between the city
and countryside. This relationship is evident in the remarkable size of the agricultural
surplus of cities such as Caere and Vulci, which was destined for trade and trans-
ported in impasto amphorae (which primarily held wine and oil or olives, the princi-
pal products of Etruscan agriculture) that have been found between the Ligurian Sea
and the Gulf of Lion, as far as the coast of Catalonia.4
2 On data from the South Etruria Project, see Potter 1979 and, most recently, Rendeli, Cascino, and
Di Sarcina 2009; Cascino, Di Giuseppe, and Patterson 2012, with references.
3 Rome 1987; on amphorae and the consumption of wine in funerary contexts, see Gras 1985;
Bartoloni, Acconcia, and ten Kortenaar 2012; on Etruscan domestic ceramics, see Zifferero 2004;
Rendeli 2009.
4 On the suburban area and countryside of Etruscan cities, see Zifferero 2005a; on commerce see
chapters 55 and 61 Becker. On amphorae produced by Caere and Vulci see Atti Marseille 2006; Zifferero
2005b; Firmati, Rendini, and Zifferero 2011.

2 The city as central place and the rise

of aristocratic estates (latifundia)
An appropriate term for the political and economic relationship between city and
countryside in Etruria has recently been devised: the “territorial state.” Structured
in a hierarchical way across a network of settlements that identifies the vast area of
influence of the city, it differs according to its relative position in the complex mosaic
of Etruria proper, between the Arno and the Tiber, and is now also recognizable in the
settlement patterns of the Po Valley and Etruscan Campania.5
At least in central and southern Etruria, the concept of the territorial state offers
distinct possibilities for focusing on the phenomenon of the city from the proto-urban
phase to the extensive topographical and social organization of the historical period.
As the southern area is better studied in terms of settlement dynamics, the region
can be taken as a paradigm for the relationship between city and countryside in Tyr-
rhenian Italy. Here the city emerges in the late Final Bronze Age and the Early Iron
Age, on uplands extending 100–150 ha or more, in a process that led to the abandon-
ment of minor Final Bronze Age settlements (which were generally located on small
plateaus or hillsides, with an average size of around 5 ha), and the relocation and
concentration of Proto-Villanovan communities on larger plateaus.6
In the Late Iron Age, from around the middle of the eighth century BCE, the
southern cities redefined their relationship with the countryside through the system-
atic reoccupation of minor settlements between 5 and 10 ha in size, many of which
had already been frequented in the Final Bronze Age. These sites reproduce the
topographic model of the city on a small scale. They are bordered by deep ravines,
crossed by waterways that shaped the sides of the plateaus, and have necropolises
distributed on uplands surrounding the settlement. Interestingly, the necropolises of
smaller centers reflect an aggregation of family groups and yield important signs of
the stratified nature of Etruscan society. At the top is found a class that expressed a
level of prosperity approaching the urban aristocracies, through tomb architecture
and a wealth of funerary goods.7
It is therefore likely that, at least in the initial phase, the reoccupation of the
Etruscan countryside in southern Etruria had dynamics similar to those of the coastal
cities. A dominant class controlled the countryside with latifundia (vast family-
held estates) placed within a few hours’ walk from an upland settlement that were
5 On the definition of “territorial state” see Cifani 2003, 175–206; on the organization of the chora in
the Po Valley and Etruscan Campania see Sassatelli and Donati 2005, 117–338; Govi and Sassatelli
2010, 291–310; Ortalli 2010; Harari and Paltineri 2010; Pontrandolfo and Santoriello 2009; Pellegrino
and Rossi 2011, with references.
6 See chapter 33 Pacciarelli; Pacciarelli 2001, 115–79; Barbaro 2010; Mandolesi 2012, with references.
7 Iaia and Mandolesi 1993; 2010; see also Bonghi Jovino 2005.

farmed by drawing on the labor of the lower classes and slaves and were inherited by
descendants. As Marco Rendeli has observed, the city already exercised an important
role in the organization of the countryside in the Orientalizing period, employing the
geographical model of a central place with articulated peripheral branches.8
Due to its complexity, however, aristocratic control of the countryside defies
generalization, and similar evidence can suggest different forms of occupation and
control of the land. For example, in the Orientalizing period, in the corridor between
the Val d’Orcia and the Ombrone Valley, forms of dynastic ownership of the coun-
tryside are found that imply a desire for autonomy from Chiusi. This is expressed by
monumental buildings, as in the case of Poggio Civitate (Siena), where a grand resi-
dence with an adjoining workshop was built in the mid seventh century, rebuilt at the
beginning of the sixth, and finally destroyed during the second half of that century.9
3 Etruscan open sites and agricultural production

in the Archaic period
Although it is a recent contribution, the identification of open sites has emphasized
the complexity of the settlement system in Etruria and other parts of pre-Roman
Italy. Typical characteristics are: (a) a size of less than 1 ha, usually between 0.25
and 0.5 ha; (b) the presence of domestic impasto ceramics for preserving and cooking
foodstuffs, and fine ceramic tableware in bucchero and depurated pottery; (c) the
presence of building materials (usually blocks in opus quadratum, cover tiles, and
pantiles); (d) a short distance between open sites, often less than 1 km; (e) location
in an area with high agricultural potential; (f) a location lacking natural or artificial
defenses; (g) connection with roads and paths of communication; and (h) connection
with necropolises of limited size (Figs. 72.3, 72.4).10
Increasing knowledge of maritime commerce has clarified the Etruscan system of
production and its evolution over time. What appears certain is the noteworthy avail-
ability of a surplus of not only agricultural but also artisanal products that poured
into markets in the western Mediterranean between the beginning of the sixth and
the middle of the fifth centuries. This surplus is the result of both a well-structured
system of production that was supported by slave labor and, most likely, a form of
8 Rendeli 1993, 156–220; 2002; Zifferero 2000.

9 Torelli 2000; on the network of open sites controlled by the residence of Poggio Civitate, see Cenni
2007, 319–30.
10 Rendeli 1993, 74–78; Cifani 1998; 2002; Zifferero 2005b.

Fig. 72.3: Rendering of an Etruscan open site identified in the countryside of Caere: (triangles) frag-
ments of small grindstones; (crosses) tiles; (open circles) limestone flakes; (filled circles) red tufa
flakes; (dashed line) the hypothetical perimeter of the building (drawing by F. Enei; courtesy F. Enei)
Fig. 72.4: An Etruscan open site at Poggio Lascone (Tolfa), in the territory of Caere: view of the
surviving artificial terraces, designed to limit erosion of the hillside, located along the side of the
site (photograph by the author)

fragmentation of the land that allowed free individuals to farm large sections of the
Etruscan countryside, probably under the direction and control of a city.11
At the height of the Archaic period, the result of these transformations can be
seen in the assertion of a middle class that was responsible for a peak in artisanal
production due to a remarkable specialization in workshops corresponding with a
perceptible rise in agricultural production. Signs of the widespread cultivation of
the countryside in southern Etruria, in addition to open sites, are substructures on
hillsides with terracing walls for protection from hydrological instability; extensive
systems of tunnels dug into the tufa for the drainage of surface water; and roads cut
deeply into tufa banks that connect the bases and summits of cultivated plateaus.
It took enormous organized and collective labor to execute these works, which is
unthinkable on the part of individual farmers; hence the current debate on forms
of temporary control of the land or, alternatively, stable ownership secured through
individual holdings awarded by the city.12
Another topic for discussion is the relationship between rural sites and burial
places. On the one hand, the distribution and topography of necropolises, along
with funerary architecture and burial goods, have facilitated recognition of the social
status of the deceased. On the other hand, the presence of burials directly connected
with these sites has suggested forms of long-lasting ownership of arable land that was
granted to those who carried out burials in contexts outside urban necropolises and
those of settlements on smaller uplands.13
With archaeological survey one can only sense the workings of the rural popula-
tion. Detailed knowledge of open sites is limited by the small number of excavated
southern sites. Surveys make it possible to identify a peak in the occupation of open
sites during the sixth century in southern Etruria, followed by a decline during the
fifth and fourth centuries. This is especially noticeable in the territory of Caere. The
city of Veii and its southern territory, in the corridor between the Arrone and the Tiber,
seems to have had a peak in the sixth century and more restrained occupation in the
fifth, until the Roman conquest in 396. The northwest sector of the territory of Vulci,
in contrast, gravitating around the middle and lower Albegna Valley, seems to have
been particularly active in the course of the fifth century and much of the fourth.14
11 See chapters 49 Nijboer; 55 and 61 Becker; Rendeli 1993, 369–72; Enei 2001, 49–62; Zifferero 2005a;
2010.
12 Rome 1987, 17–36; Barker 2000; Enei 2001; for discussion of the forms of land ownership see Torelli
2002; Damiani and Pacciarelli 2006; Carandini 2006; Cifani 2009.
13 Zifferero 2000; 2005a.
14 Tartara 1999; Enei 2001; Cifani 2002; Damiani and Pacciarelli 2006; Perkins 1999; 2012; Michelucci
2008; Firmati, Rendini, and Zifferero 2011.

4 The rural landscape in Etruria: An attempted

synthesis
In the Late Iron Age (the middle decades of the eighth century), the Etruscan city
is fully configured. Institutions are under the stable control of the aristocratic class,
who were at the top of a complex social structure that includes a servile class. Aristo-
crats encourage the development of artisanal activities within the urban fabric, which
support a high level of production and drive a complex network of exchanges and gifts
connected with commercial routes in the western Mediterranean. At least in the Tyr-
rhenian area, this phase witnesses the construction of the Etruscan territorial states,
with the reoccupation of settlements on smaller plateaus. This should be understood
as part of the expansionist policies of the Etruscan cities in a territory of influence
that was produced by a complex network of alliances and agreements between aristoi
who exercised a recognized power from the city. Between the late eighth and the
early seventh century, the structure of the landed aristocracy becomes visible, which
establishes and guarantees family power over arable land that can be transferred by
inheritance. Despite the difficulty of focusing on archaeological indicators, I have
proposed that monumental tumuli and isolated tombs may indicate the existence of
a landed estate, as burial represents a tangible form of control over the land. These
tumuli, placed some distance from urban necropolises and/or those of settlements on
smaller plateaus, sometimes initiate burial nuclei reserved for descendants and for
members of classes lower than that of the dominant group.15
Besides plateau settlements, complex territorial structures are sometimes indi-
cated by sites on high ground, such as the summit of hill ranges, which are often rein-
forced by embankments and hanging walls and have probable defensive functions
(ranging from the control of mineral fields to the protection of the territorial state’s
boundaries), which were most likely entrusted to parts of the aristocracy peripheral
to the urban structure.16
In the final decades of the seventh century, or the Late Orientalizing period,
archaeology signals profound changes in Etruscan society. Aristocratic groups
increase in number with the diffusion of rank though offspring, and probably
compete for possession of the land and control of production. Some aspects of the
conflict may involve land distribution according to family ties expressed in a genti-
licial arrangement, which collects the descendants of a common ancestor and those
of lower classes under one name. The extent of the phenomenon is not clear, and
there are possible analogies with another ancient society with a wealth of evidence
and available documentary sources—namely, that of Archaic Rome. Recent studies
15 Iaia and Mandolesi 2010; Zifferero 1991; 2000, 232–47.

16 Zifferero 1995; 2000, 232–47; Maggiani 2008, on northern Etruria.

of land control in monarchic and early Republican society using archaeological evi-
dence have helped to integrate, and in some cases modify, a historiographic vision
that has hitherto been built exclusively on literary sources. In the case of early Repub-
lican Rome, the effects of the land reforms instituted by Servius Tullius (in particular
the creation of the rustic tribes that were named for the gentilicial Roman groups)
can be observed in the growth and development of large estates. These are the actual
“directional poles” of aristocratic agricultural production in the Roman suburb. At
the same time, continued examination of small open sites suggests a form of indi-
vidual land holdings (often acquired at the expense of nearby cities) implemented by
the city against Latin towns from as early as the late Monarchic period.17
In the Late Orientalizing period, archaeological data in Etruria suggest a type of
equalization of conspicuous wealth that reaches, in the funerary sphere, standards
that are apparently more balanced than in the Early and Middle Orientalizing periods.
The rural population, across the open sites, has a complete and diffuse form by the
beginning of the sixth century, at least in the south.18
The high density of open sites, as registered in the countryside around Caere, Veii,
and Vulci, brings a number of uncertainties into reconstructions of the rural fabric.
The first difficulty lies in the substantial variability between the areas of surface dis-
persion. While most sites have a scatter area of between 0.25 and 0.5 ha, others extend
up to 1 ha and beyond, suggesting sites of differing value.19 A second difficulty is that
many open sites in the countryside around Caere and Vulci that were clearly estab-
lished in the Archaic and Late Archaic periods are found near tumuli or more ancient
tombs that are usually datable to the Early and Middle Orientalizing periods. One pos-
sible explanation in these cases is that the open site began in the territory of a landed
aristocracy that was marked by the tomb. It is legitimate to think of a gentilicial group
that steadily resided on a property long controlled by the family, or else new agrarian
allocations that were perhaps worked by the city on former aristocratic land.20
According to this evidence, it may be thought that the archaeological data high-
light various ways of organizing labor, with nuclei of different concentrations of the
population living in the countryside. The rural population evident in open sites is a
tangible sign of a direct relationship with the countryside, probably fostered and con-
trolled by settlements on smaller plateaus within the territorial state that was driven
by the Tyrrhenian cities. At least in the Archaic and Late Archaic periods, there was
broad gentilicial control of arable land that presumes the existence of a landed aris-
17 Terrenato 2001; Carandini 2006; Cifani 2009; on the context of the Villa dell’Auditorium in Rome,
see now Carandini, D’Alessio, and Di Giuseppe 2006.
18 Cifani 2002; Damiani and Pacciarelli 2006.
19 Enei 2001, 49–62; Cifani 1998; 2002.
20 For the phenomenon of Orientalizing tombs near open sites see, most recently, Zifferero 2000
around Caere; on the area around Vulci, see Zifferero 2009, 230–38; Zifferero et al. 2011.

tocracy, along with divided farms implemented by the city through the distribution of
public land.
Among the prominent signs of gentilicial control in Etruria are the rural building
in Poggio Tondo (Scarlino) near Vetulonia, which dates from the second half of the
sixth to the first half of the fifth century, and the “Casa delle Anfore” at Marsiliana
d’Albegna (Manciano), which was occupied between the last quarter of the sixth and
the second half of the fifth century (Figs. 72.5, 72.6).21 This building, which is in a sub-
urban area, has the plan of a great urban domus (spread over 400 m2) with residential
and possibly productive areas arranged around an open quadrangular courtyard. The
architectural quality of the building, the presence of Attic ceramics, and the existence
of internal and external spaces furnished with grand dolia and transport amphorae
suggest the activity of a productive and residential site where the products of an agri-
cultural estate were gathered. The presence of other buildings of similar type and date
on the summit of Poggio Alto—a short distance from the “Casa delle Anfore”—makes
it quite plausible to recognize a suburban aristocratic estate of Marsiliana controlled
by an elevated social group that may have descended from local Orientalizing aris-
tocracies.22 There is also evidence of limited, scattered remains that can be related
to small open sites in the suburban areas and countryside of Marsiliana. Current
research suggests a complex situation in which, starting from the late sixth through
most of the fifth century, aristocratic estates existed alongside individual holdings of
arable land, which may have been worked under the direction of Vulci, which coor-
dinated commercial transactions connected to the distribution of local wine in the
lands of the Celts from the end of the seventh century to the middle of the fifth.23
As for the end of agricultural production in the area, the archaeological record
shows a systemic collapse in the first half of the fourth century. This is when settle-
ments in the area display features that can be associated with defense against Roman
expansion. Ghiaccio Forte (Scansano), which was already frequented in the Archaic
period as a sanctuary (perhaps on the border of Vulcian expansion), became the base
of a small gentilicial potentate of the Statie. The mighty fortification of the oppidum
of Rofalco (Farnese), on the margins of the Selva del Lamone, was inhabited in the
fourth century and destroyed following the Roman conquest of the Vulcian country-
side, at the beginning of the third century.24
Inland Etruria is yielding interesting data on the rural landscape and recent
forms of land ownership. Work in progress between the Val d’Elsa, the Chianti
21 Mariotti Lippi et al. 2002; Paribeni 2009; Firmati, Rendini, and Zifferero 2011, 33–38; Zifferero 2009,
230–38; Zifferero et al. 2011.
22 Zifferero 2009, 230–38; Zifferero et al. 2011.
23 Firmati, Rendini, and Zifferero 2011, 21–32; Perkins 1999, 165–93; 2012.
24 Rendini and Firmati 2008; 2010; Cerasuolo, Pulcinelli, and Rubat Morel 2008; Cerasuolo and
Pulcinelli 2010.

Fig. 72.5: Marsiliana d’Albegna, Poggio Alto: view of the eastern elevation of the “Casa delle Anfore.”
On the left is the entrance of the building; on the right is a dolium placed against the outer wall
(photograph by the author)
Senese, and the Valle dell’Asso has revealed a wealth of information on open sites
and their populations from the Orientalizing period to the Romanizing phase, which
concluded with the civil war between Marius and Sulla at the beginning of the first
century BCE. Surveys between the cities of Volterra and Chiusi have highlighted
significant activity in the countryside during the sixth century that was driven by
a very strong gentilicial system. Development in the Archaic period, followed by
decline during the fifth century with the abandonment of the countryside for the
nearby cities, led to the consolidation and expansion of their handicraft and work-
shop activities. There followed a noticeably strong revival of the rural settlement
system between the fourth and third centuries and the end of the second century,
which is visible in the remarkable number of new open sites, particularly in the
upper Ombrone Valley. At a methodological level, it is interesting to observe that the
gentilicial organization of the landscape has survived in the Sienese countryside
in toponomy of Etruscan origin which is often recognizable as gentilicial names

Fig. 72.6: Marsiliana d’Albegna, Poggio Alto: three-dimensional reconstruction of the “Casa delle
Anfore” showing the placement of pottery found during excavations (2006–9; reconstruction
by D. Calamandrei; courtesy D. Calamandrei)
ending with the suffix-na (for example, the present place name Percenna derives
from the gentilicial name Perkna/Perkena).25
The Tabula Cortonensis is an important second century document that sheds
light on a land sale between the olive grower and merchant Petru Scevaś and the gens
25 Campana 2001, 276–97; 2013, 276–79; Felici 2004, 302–8; Felici 2012, 219–22; Cenni 2007, 319–30;
Acconcia 2012; on Etruscan toponyms in Tuscany, see Pieri 1969; for the example of Percenna from
Perkna/Perkena, see Cenni 2007, 322–23, with references. On the Romanization of inland Etruria, see
chapters 37 Marcone and 38 Torelli.

of Cusu, members of the local aristocracy, in the countryside of Cortona near Lake
Trasimeno, which was ratified by the public authorities of Cortona. The bronze tablet
offers a detailed and fascinating insight into historic, economic, and social conditions
in inland Etruria on the eve of Romanization, and provides valuable information on
the type of crops grown (especially olives and grapes) and the organization of land
ownership in the Hellenistic period (Fig. 38.2).26
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VI. Etruscans outside Etruria
Southern Italy
Teresa Cinquantaquattro and Carmine Pellegrino
73 Southern Campania
Abstract: The coastal strip near Salerno represents the farthest southern frontier of Etruscan expan-
sion. At the beginning of the ninth century BCE, groups who practiced cremation pushed into it from
southern Etruria, reaching the Agro Picentino and the Diano Valley, where they stimulated the birth
of the centralized proto-urban settlement, which also involved and integrated the native component
of the population.
With the arrival of the Greeks on the Campanian coast there emerged an integrated economic
and cultural system, ruled by aristocracies that shared interests and models of behavior transcend-
ing their different ethnic origins. In this context the Etruscans continue to represent the propulsive
element in the dynamics of political structuring, guiding the processes of urban formation that in the
Archaic period also involve the areas of indigenous traditions of the Sarno Valley and the Sorrentine
Peninsula. The broad diffusion of the Etruscan language and of the bucchero testifies to the cultural
and political hegemony held in this period by the Etruscans, which is manifested symbolically in the
elaboration of the geographic notion of Tyrrhenia, transmitted by the literary sources and still opera-
tive in the fourth century BCE when the Italic peoples of the Samnite tradition achieved supremacy.
Keywords: Villanovan, Pontecagnano, Pompeii, Fratte, Tyrrhenia
Introduction
“Southern Campania” is the coastal strip between the Sarno Valley and the Sele River
(Fig. 73.1).1 The district includes the plains of the Sarno Valley and the Agro Picen-
tino, closed off on the east by Apennine spurs and split by the watershed of the Sor-
rentine Peninsula, which separates the Bay of Naples from the Gulf of Salerno. The
Sarno River plain, with the bulk of Vesuvius towering over its coast, opens northward
toward the wider Campanian plain, the location of Etruscan Capua and the adjacent
district of the mesogeia (the “middle earth” between the Campanian plain and the
Sarno Valley), which was organized around the settlements of Nola and Avella (see
chapter 74 Bellelli). The Sarno river Valley, by way of its tributary the Solofrana, leads
to the Irno river, whose valley provides entry toward Hirpinia or descent toward the
coast, where the Romans founded Salernum in 197 BCE. The pre-Roman settlement
at Fratte arises farther to the rear, at the spot where the Irno and the Grancano rivers
meet, which leads toward the south on the broad plain of the Sele. North of the river,
the plain bears the name Agro Picentino. In it lay the Etruscan center at Pontecagnano
and, at the entrance to the Sele Valley, the ancient settlement at Eboli. Continuing up
The Introduction and paragraphs nos. 1.1.–1.2., 3. and 4. are by C. Pellegrino, nos. 1.3. and 2. by
T. Cinquantaquattro.
1 For a summary portrait of Campania, see Cerchiai 1995; 2010a.
1360 Teresa Cinquantaquattro and Carmine Pellegrino
Fig. 73.1: Map of ancient Campania (drawing A. Blaickner)

73 Southern Campania 1361
the river, it is possible to advance toward Hirpinia or to enter the broad plain of the
Vallo di Diano, that represents the principal access point toward the south of the pen-
insula and the location of the Villanovan settlement at Sala Consilina.
The historical tradition records the Etruscan character of southern Campania.
Pliny (HN 3.70) states that the Ager Picentinus was in Etruscan hands, and Tyrsenikos
is defined by Aristoxenus (F 124 Wehrli) as the gulf in which the Poseidonians (of
Paestum) lived, whom Sophocles in Triptolemos placed more generically north of
Oenotria (F 598 Radt). A foundation by the Tyrrhenians is Marcina (Strabo 5.4.13),
situated between the Cape of Sorrento and the Sele and probably to be identified with
Fratte; in Tyrrhenia are located, besides Picentia (Steph. Byz. s.v. Picentia) – that is,
Pontecagnano – the poleis of Nuceria (Nocera; Philistus, FGrHist 556.43) and Sorrento
(Steph. Byz. s.v. Surrention), according to a widespread notion of the Etruscan paralia
(coastal strip), including the Sarno Valley and the southern part of the Bay of Naples,
which, as we shall see, goes back to the Archaic period.
1 The Early Iron Age: The Villanovan phase

(ninth to third quarter of the eighth century)
1.1 The “Villanovan” of southern Campania
At the beginning of the ninth century, on the Sele Plain and in the Diano Valley, there
appear communities of Villanovan culture who practiced cremation. Their presence,
in contrast with the people who instead practiced inhumation that distinguish the
Sarno Valley (Fossakultur) and the Apennine hinterland, fuels the debate over the
interpretation of the “Villanovan” itself. It is a debate that distinguishes between
those who—beginning with Renato Peroni2—consider it a sociopolitical epiphe-
nomenon without ethno-cultural significance, and those who emphasize its ethnic
content, connecting it with the subsequent Etruscan manifestations. In this second
view, the appearance of the Villanovan community in Campania is connected with a
migratory movement from southern Etruria, which in the case of southern Campania
could have been accomplished by sea.
The migration thesis seems preferable in light of other considerations, if we take
into account controversial aspects of the archaeological evidence. Given that the phe-
nomenon arose quite early in the process of ethno-cultural formation, it is not surpris-
2 Peroni 1994; Cerchiai 1995, 10–12. For a recent fine-tuning of the question see d’Agostino 2011a,
69–72.

ing that the Campanian “Villanovan” has developed characteristics of its own.3 Nor is
it necessary to suppose that the Villanovan expansion would have occurred in sharp
conflict with the local peoples of the Fossakultur. On the contrary, there emerge signs
of contact and interaction between the two components of the population, which
lead us to suppose the existence of mobility and attraction in both directions and of
varying intensity. Interpretation of the acceptance into the Villanovan settlements’
ceramic repertoire of vase forms typical of the Fossakultur, for example, leads in this
direction.4 A similar reading can be applied to the presence of Villanovan ceramics in
the first levels of the Early Iron Age (phase I) in the inhabited area of Longola (Poggio-
marino), on the Sarno River, where the phenomenon tapers off in the following levels
(phase II).5 A similar key to reading applies to the development of the settlement at
Sala Consilina, in the Diano Valley, where around the middle of the eighth century,
despite continuity in the dwelling-places, the original Villanovan culture disappears,
absorbed by the indigenous Oenotrian component, which was initially present within
the community.6 Also unsuccessful was the attempt to take up residence south of the
Sele on the initiative of small groups, like that indicated by the group of tombs discov-
ered in Capodifiume, behind Paestum.7
1.2 Settlement choices and social structure
In the perspective outlined here, the groups of people who belonged to the Villanovan
culture took shape as the moving force in a process of renewal that also involved the
local components of the population. The innovative impulse is recognized in particu-
lar in the settlement choices, which recall those in the same period in other areas
historically occupied by the Etruscans, in Tyrrhenian Etruria and on the Po plain. In
southern Campania as well, the Villanovan settlements have a protourban charac-
ter. They are extensive centers able to control vast territories and to plan the settled
space in accordance with criteria that were to remain in effect over a long period, as is
shown by the fundamental distinction between the large area used for dwellings and
the necropolises.
The best-known case is represented by Pontecagnano, in the Agro Picentino
(Fig. 73.2).8 The Early Iron Age necropolises are set around the inhabited area, which
presumably developed on the travertine plateau occupied by the city in the histori-
3 Colonna 1991, 46.

4 Cerchiai 1995, 12.
5 The materials are published in Bartoli 2005 and Cicirelli and Albore Livadie 2012, where they are
adduced in confirmation of Peroni’s thesis on the non-ethno-cultural significance of the “Villanovan.”
6 Ruby 1995.
7 Sestieri 1960.
8 Bonaudo et al. 2009, 170–72; Pellegrino and Rossi 2011, 209–10.

73 Southern Campania
1363
Fig. 73.2: Pontecagnano. Plan of the ancient settlement (drawing C. Pellegrino)

cal period. They were established along the road leading out of the inhabited area,
and in relation to significant elements of the landscape. The two main necropolises
are located at the sides of the plateau, separated from it by the lowland in which the
surface waters flowed. Associated with the main settlement is a village, some 2 km
to the south, in Pagliarone. Located on a terrace extending along the coastal plain, it
would have been in control of the salt lagoon (the Lago Piccolo of historical maps) in
which the port of the Villanovan center can be identified.9
A similar settlement plan can be assumed for Sala Consilina, in the Diano Valley,
where two necropolises are placed at the sides of the area presumably occupied by
the inhabited area.10 Less clear at the moment are the facts about Eboli, at the mouth
of the middle branch of the Sele River, where the settlement dynamics are also thor-
oughly in agreement with the earlier Bronze Age occupation.11
The individuality of the Villanovan centers is clearer when it is compared with the
articulated settlement system of the Sarno Valley. In the inland region, several neigh-
boring villages dedicated to agriculture (San Valentino Torio, San Marzano sul Sarno,
and Striano) were associated with the aforementioned settlement of Longola, which
existed from the last phases of the Late Bronze Age to the later Orientalizing period on
the islets created by branches of the river.12 Besides woodworking, evidence of which
is found in the unusually preserved organic remains and in the metal toolkit, other
specialized craft activities were found here, such as the working of bronze, bone, frit,
and amber. On the coast the role of Pompeii must be reevaluated in the light of new
discoveries, which reveal traces of a possible occupation of the plateau in the Iron
Age as well, when the site must have taken on considerable importance because of its
position at the mouth of the river.13
The considerable documentation of the necropolises of Pontecagnano permits us
to deepen the analysis of funerary customs and to outline the progress of the social
structures of the community over time.14
The oldest tombs, going back to the first half of the ninth century, mostly follow
the Villanovan ritual of cremation. The remains are gathered in a biconical urn
deposited in a round pit (pozzetto tomb), or a small chamber preceded by a vestibule
(receptacle tomb). Inhumation, using pits that were generally lined and covered with
pebbles, was extremely rare in the first phase, but was more widely diffused begin-
ning in the second half of the ninth century. The tombs initially reflect groups organ-
9 Gastaldi 1998.
10 On the possible location of the inhabitated area see Ruby 1995, 30–38.
11 For syntheses of the available data on Eboli, see Cipriani 1990; Di Michele 2008.
12 On the necropolises of San Valentino Torio, San Marzano sul Sarno, and Striano, see Gastaldi 1979;
D’Ambrosio, Di Maio, and Scala 2009. On the settlement of Longola, see Cicirelli and Albore Livadie
2012.
13 Robinson 2008.
14 d’Agostino and Gastaldi 1988; De Natale 1992; Gastaldi 1998.

ized on the basis of gender. Especially noteworthy is the figure of the adult warrior,
evoked by the helmet-shaped lid of the urn and by the spearhead deposited in the
grave goods; female figures are associated with spinning and weaving tools.
Already during the ninth century, distinct in the funerary areas are clusters
of burials centered on figures of warriors armed with swords, an expression of the
growing social stratification that led to the concentration of power and wealth in the
hands of a few family groups.15 The centrality of the warrior figure, through which
ties of ancestry and descent were valorized, is also evoked by an unusual impasto
helmet topped by a sculptural group that depicts a tall female figure embracing the
shoulders of the man who originally owned the helmet (Fig. 18.1).16 The scene might
represent the welcome of the warrior to the afterlife by a goddess connected with the
realm of death.
Beginning with this phase, Pontecagnano was involved in a complex network
of relationships and exchange that involved the Tyrrhenian basin. Confirmation
is found not only in the imported materials—from Etruria, Sardinia, Calabria, and
Sicily—but also the phenomena of personal mobility, such as those hypothesized in
relation to the hut urn from Tomb 2500, which goes back to Latium and Etruria, and a
pair of warriors armed with swords and greaves, for which an origin in the Calabrian
settlement of Torre Galli has been proposed (Tombs 180 and 889).17
1.3 Contact with the Greeks: The second phase

of the Early Iron Age
In the first half of the eighth century, the system of exchanges in the Tyrrhenian
region intensified due to the Greek frequentation of the coastlines that preceded the
foundation of the colonies. The archaeological evidence for these contacts consists
of skyphoi decorated with hanging semicircles, chevrons, meanders, or birds, made
primarily in Euboea and documented in the necropolises of Pontecagnano in highly
significant numbers.18 These vessels were reserved for ceremonial wine consumption,
introduced by the Greek merchants as a practice for initiating hospitable relations
with the local elite, which were by now widely established, and stably controlled the
resources and exchanges. The elite used special burial areas, carefully laid out, and
exhibited the eminence of their position through the architecture of the tombs, often
topped by monumental structures, and in the funeral ritual, which now stressed the
16 Cerchiai 1995, 60–61.
17 Gastaldi 1994, 2006.
18 Bailo Modesti and Gastaldi 1999.

importance of certain female figures indicated by richer ornaments, as well as by the

usual signs of tasks connected with domestic activity.
The system of relations and trade in the Tyrrhenian region was consolidated
around the middle of the eighth century when the Greeks of Euboea founded the set-
tlement of Pithecusae on the island of Ischia. This settlement, in which Greeks lived
side by side with Phoenicians and natives, functioned as an outpost for commerce
and exchange. From Pithecusae came not only finished products, but also craftsmen,
who opened specialized workshops in Etruria and in other local communities on the
Tyrrhenian coast. A little later, the Greek presence was increased further with the
founding of Cumae on the Campanian coast facing the island of Ischia. The first per-
manent Greek colony, it was established on the initiative of the Euboeans of Calchis
and the polis of Kyme in Aeolis.
The intensity of activity and relationships that crisscrossed the Tyrrhenian basin
and the Campanian coast also involved the native population, leading to a new eco-
nomic growth and producing opportunities of cultural interaction. An example is the
Sarno Valley, where the agricultural villages at San Marzano sul Sarno, Striano, and
San Valentino Torio became intermediaries with the Greek world for acquiring agri-
cultural resources. This is seen from the presence of Greek or Greek-type ceramics in
the burials, as well as the attestation of a particular production that decorates forms
from the local repertoire with Pithecusae-style motifs.
In the Agro Picentino, a meaningful dynamic connected to the new situation is
the appearance of a series of settlements that integrate the earlier territorial system
in which Pontecagnano and Eboli played an important role.19 The new settlements,
known solely from the necropolises, arose with the purpose of better exploiting the
opportunities offered by the intensification of trade, and were placed near coastal
landing-places and river fords in strategic spots for maritime and terrestrial commu-
nication. In the new landscape, the settlement that developed along the slopes of
Monte Vetrano at the confluence of the Grancano and Picentino River valleys took on
a central role protecting the access routes from the north into the Agro Picentino and
in connection with the ford and a likely river landing.20 The burial evidence attests to
the prosperity of the settlement, which derived from its integration into the system
of Tyrrhenian trade, in whose sphere it functioned as the aggregator of inland prod-
ucts. For example, in the female Burial 74, which dates to the third quarter of the
eighth century, rich ornaments are associated with a set of imported bronze vessels
(Fig. 73.3).21 The Kurd-type situla, the biconical vase, and the censer are Etruscan in
origin; the corded cista was imported from the Adriatic area; the little Nuragic boat
19 For Pithecusae see Pithekoussai I; Nizzo 2007; d’Agostino 2011b; Cinquantaquattro 2016. For the
Agro Picentino see Cinquantaquattro 2001, 2009; Bailo Modesti and Gobbi 2010.
20 Cerchiai, Rossi and Santoriello 2009.
21 Campanelli 2011, 172–83, 157–70.

Fig. 73.3: Tomb 74 of Monte Vetrano. Bronze vessels at the foot of the deceased
(after Cerchiai and Nava 2008–9)
came from Sardinia; the cauldron is of Euboean type; and the bowl decorated with an
embossed row of bulls and an underlying frieze of heifers suckling calves arrived from
the Near East. As for the men’s side, Tomb 51 is exemplary. The deceased, known to be
a warrior from the iron sword and the spearheads, is also accompanied by iron tools
and sacrificial equipment—a hatchet, an ax, two knives, and a bundle of skewers—
and by a bronze cauldron and basin.22
The function and degree of openness of the community are also evidenced by the
presence of tombs that refer to the Hirpinian environment of the Oliveto Citra-Cairano
culture; by imports from the Sarno Valley, the Campanian plain, and Oenotria; and
especially by objects and contexts that recall Greece and the Near East. Aside from the
bronze bowl from Tomb 74, particularly indicative are a scarab from the Lyre-Player
Group,23 with a complex dance scene around an amphora (Fig. 73.4), and Tomb 111,
in which the remains of a cremated woman, together with an impasto spindle whorl
and burnt fragments of a skyphos with chevrons, are gathered in a bronze urn similar
22 Campanelli 2011, 157–70.

23 Cerchiai and Nava 2008–9, 101–4.

Fig. 73.4: Scarab of the Lyre-Player Group from Monte Vetrano

to examples from Eretria, following a ritual that goes back to ideological Hellenic
models.24
Apart from Montevetrano, other settlements destined to the control of the ter-
ritory and exchanges developed on the coastal strip, close to the lagoons used as
landing-places. Casella, on the lagoon north of the Tusciano River, took on the func-
tions previously assumed by Pagliarone, which meanwhile had become disused.25 A
second settlement was found farther south, in Arenosola, on the sandy spit bordering
the broadest lagoon on the right bank of the mouth of the Sele.26
At Pontecagnano, the flourishing activities connected with the intensification of
Tyrrhenian trade brought the subsequent acceleration of social dynamics, causing the
emersion of groups that centralized control of the resources in their own hands. As for
funerary practices, they exhibit behaviors that foreshadow the princely ostentation of
the Orientalizing period, with burials characterized by monumental structures and
highly complex grave goods in which bronze vases stand out; and, for female burials,
sumptuously ornamented jewelry.
2 The Orientalizing period: The world

of the principes (ca. 725–625 BCE)
By the last quarter of the eighth century, the process of social differentiation appears
to have been firmly settled. For this chronological horizon, the sole evidence concern-
ing the inhabited area of Pontecagnano comes from the southwest edge of the city,
between the Via Bellini and the Via Verdi, where the sanctuary of Apollo rose in the
Archaic period.27 Dating from the end of the eighth to the beginning of the seventh
century, a wide open area appeared here, occupied by huts with wells and a pottery
24 Cerchiai, Rossi, and Santoriello 2009, 81–82.

25 Cinquantaquattro 2001.
26 Cinquantaquattro 2001, 91–94.
27 Bailo Modesti, Battista et al. 2005, 576–80; Bailo Modesti, Cerchiai et al. 2005, 205–14.

kiln. The fact that the great central space remained unbuilt in the following phases
of the sanctuary suggests that the area had a public function from the beginning.28
Once more, it is the necropolises that represent the main source of information.
At Pontecagnano there are some aristocratic groups—holders of hereditary power—
who steered the mechanisms of political and social functioning of the community.
Though areas utilized in the Early Iron Age were abandoned, the necropolises contin-
ued to be distributed in the two extensive funerary sectors to the east and southwest
of the inhabited plateau, into zones previously crossed by ancient river beds and then
reclaimed.29 To it was added a smaller area of burials placed on a lower terrace of
the plateau, near the present-day Piazza Risorgimento. In a funerary landscape struc-
tured into family plots and monumentalized, close to the tombs, near enclosures or
small altars where funeral rites and ceremonies were carried out, are the “princely”
burials that represent the ideology of the ruling classes. These show—albeit with
general sharing of values—the dialectical coexistence of various strategies of self-
representation. Three indicators signal the distance of these eminent burials from the
rest of the community. First is the funerary ritual, which reserves for the principes
especially elaborate treatment, such as cremation, as compared with the generalized
use of inhumation by that time. Second is the structure of the tomb, within which
the remains of the deceased and the objects are deposited according to precise selec-
tive logic. Third is the grave goods that, with the inclusion of imports from Etruria,
Greece, and the Near East, alongside the basic service that united all the burials of
the time, show a capacity for relationships of broad scope and considerable economic
resources for the acquisition of prestige goods.
In the western necropolis, Tomb 4461 is the earliest princely burial and dates to
the end of the eighth century. It belongs to a warrior who was about fifty years old,30
whose bones were deposited in a chest made of travertine slabs, following a second-
ary burial ritual used as ostentation tool from aristocracies. This is attested in Archaic
Rome in the Laws of the XII Tables, which limit the use of this ritual to cases of death
in war or on foreign soil. The bones of the deceased, which underwent ritual manipu-
lation, were first subject to burial or defleshing, and were subsequently deposited in
the tomb using a careful process of selection that led to the exclusion of the skull.31
Partly the bones were found on the floor of the chest, partly in a bronze lebes or a
bronze Kurd-type situla imported from the Etruscan city of Vetulonia. The group of
large bronze containers is completed by a biconical amphora made in Etruria. In
addition to imported vases (a Phoenician plate in red-slip ware, a globular Proto-
Corinthian aryballos, an oinochoe from Pithecusae), the grave-goods includes sac-
28 Pellegrino and Rossi 2011, 211.

29 Bonaudo et al. 2009, 172–78.
30 Cerchiai 1985.
31 Cuozzo 2004–5.

Fig. 73.5: Pontecagnano. Horses’ mask from Tomb 4461

(after Cerchiai 1995)
rificial tools (an ax and a knife), arms (spears), and an extraordinary pair of bronze
plated masks for horses (prometopidia), perhaps used during the funeral ceremony.
Most likely made in Vetulonia by a craftsman from the East, the masks bear embossed
figural scenes, inspired by the world of the hunt (Fig. 73.5). The two sides of the better-
preserved example depict an archer shooting an arrow at a lion who is attacking a
goat, a running stag, and a pair of facing wild boars.
Dating to a generation later are the princely tombs 926 and 928 from the necropo-
lis of Piazza Risorgimento, both male cremations.32 They exhibit an articulated archi-
tecture, with a pit lined and covered with travertine slabs placed in the middle of a
travertine enclosure (Figs. 19.4, 19.5, 73.6). In the central pit a bronze cauldron holds
the ashes of the deceased, carefully wrapped in a cloth fastened with a fibula, fol-
lowing a ritual typical of the Euboean aristocracy that is attested in some aristocratic
burials in Cumae from the end of the eighth century, such as Tomb 104 of the Fondo
Artiaco. The ideological return to heroic funerary practices that date to the time of
Homer—like those reserved for Patroclus and Hector—reveals the cultural and ideo-
logical references on which the Etruscan aristocracy’s funerary practices were based.
Shaped on models developed in the Greek environment of Cumae, whose influence
also touches the apices of the native community of the Campanian hinterland, demon-
strate a sharing and solidarity between the ruling groups that is thick with meaning.
In tombs 926 and 928, the central pit held—in addition to the remains of the
deceased—a valuable set of silver and bronze wine and banquet vessels imported
from Greece, the Near-East, and Etruria. Outside the pit but still within the enclosure,
were found elements that represent the social role of the princeps: arms, parts of car-
riages, sacrificial equipment for butchering and roasting meat (an ax, knives, spits,
andirons, and tongs), large storage vessels (amphorae), and a bronze tripod in Tomb
928.
The key elements around which the social identity of the princeps—to whom the
status of hero and progenitor is attributed—was constructed is clear: war, thus the

Fig. 73.6: Pontecagnano. Plan of the tomb 928.

(based on d’Agostino 1977, fig. 13)
management of foreign relations and conflicts; sacrifice and symposium, thus gov-
ernance of religious practices, rituals, and social relations; and wealth, thus exercise
of power that is both political and societal.
Such forms of social recognition were not reserved only for men. To the female
figure as guarantor of the continuity of the family and hereditary transmission, was
also accorded a funerary ritual of the princely type. This is the case of Tomb 2465,
found in the eastern necropolis in San Antonio, near an infant burial area organized
around the enclosed space of a funerary cult.33 The inhumation burial, dating to the
33 Cuozzo 2003, 108–12; see also Bonaudo et al. 2009, 193–94.

Fig. 73.7: Pontecagnano. Inscribed chalice from Tomb 3509

(after Colonna and Pellegrino 2002)
late eighth century, is covered by a large tumulus that until the first half of the sixth
century received mostly burials of women and children. In this context, the men’s
tombs, marked by arms, occupy a marginal position that don’t exhibit any specific
indications of prestige.
The woman in Tomb 2465 was clothed in sumptuous garb, the lower half covered
by a mesh of bronze ornaments and enriched with a pectoral and diadem in sheet
gold; she wore bracelets and earrings of silver, and necklaces of silver or with figural
amber pendants. But it is not merely for its sumptuous apparel that the burial is
known, but for the exhibition of those signs of power, which in the western necropolis
are the prerogative of the principes: the carriage, the sacrificial tools and the hearth,
wine service, and the large containers for foodstuffs.
An internal dialectic suffuses the ruling elite: in comparison with the aristocratic
identities that emerge at the same time in the western necropolis, two elements are to
be stressed regarding Tomb 2645 and its group. The first is the significance accorded
to the female and infant element of the community; the second is the exhibition, by
indicators such as the impasto ceramics imported from Etruria-Latium, of privileged
relations with the Etruscan and the southern elite. The pottery indications, like the
rest of the grave goods, allow us to trace the various exchange circuits along the routes
that put Campania into communication with Etruria, whereas the composition of the
grave goods well describes the open character of the Picentine community which, in

this decisive phase for its urban transformation, expresses a powerful capacity for
social integration.
As a demonstration of the phenomena of mobility that simultaneously also
affected the Greek world of the Tyrrhenian coast,34 the two main necropolises contain
burial plots that can be attributed to a portion of the population assignable to the
Hirpinian culture of “Oliveto Citra–Cairano.” This circumstance appears to fit organi-
cally into the contemporary structuring, on the inland hills, of small settlements
inhabited by families of Hirpinian origin. These families moved from the valleys of
the Ofanto and the upper Sele, and settled along the middle valley of the Picentino, at
Montecorvino Rovella and Santa Maria a Vico, following a trail already blazed earlier
by individuals, as the case of Monte Vetrano seems to show.
Thus the economic supremacy and policy of control of the anchorages, of the
agricultural territory of the plain, and of the resources of the wooded hinterland,
were the source of the power of the Pontecagnano elite. The attraction exercised by
Pontecagnano toward the Tyrrhenian coast mirrors on the one hand the radiation
of Etruscan cultural influence over a vast extent of territory, on the other the acti-
vation of developmental processes within the native component of the population.
In this sphere, in which a decisive role must have been played by the settlement of
Eboli, which could not be avoided along the route that connects the Sele Valley to the
Ofanto Valley via the saddle of Conza, the presence of “princely” burials at Bisaccia
acquires its significance. In Tomb 66, of the second quarter of the seventh century,
the deceased woman was clad in a garment embellished with copious bronze decora-
tions and a rich display of ornaments, and was accompanied by indicators of princely
prestige, such as a set of bronze vessels from Pontecagnano (a cauldron, two basins,
and a phiale) and iron spits.35
Far from taking shape as isolated phenomena, therefore, the processes of cul-
tural interaction appear to be a constituent feature of the community of Ponte-
cagnano, whose Etruscan character, well represented in the historical tradition, finds
its most significant confirmation in the extremely rich inscriptional corpus, which
counts over seventy items.36 The earliest inscriptions, aside from isolated letters and
marks already attested in contexts from the first half of the century, date to the middle
and third quarter of the seventh century. We refer to two inscribed vases recovered
from child burials. The first (Tomb 6034) has the beginning of an abecedary;37 the
second comes from the burial of a one year old baby (Tomb 3509), for whose funeral
34 Cerchiai, Cinquantaquattro and Pellegrino 2013.

35 Bailo Modesti 1982, 250–51.
36 For a recent analysis of the entire corpus see Pellegrino 2008.
37 Cinquantaquattro 2004–5, 2005.

a couple—probably the baby’s parents—had given an impasto chalice (Fig. 73.7).38 In

this inscription, the use of the onomastic formula with two elements—the praenomen
and the gentilic name (Rasunie)—reflects a society in which blood relationships domi-
nate and the hereditary system guarantees the lineage and the transmission of power.
3 The urbanization process (last quarter

of the seventh to the sixth century)
At the turn of the sixth century in southern Campania there took place a profound
reorganization of the settlements’ planning, connected with the process of urbaniza-
tion that extensively affected mid-Tyrrhenian Italy and Magna Graecia.39
In the inhabited area a clearer allocation of space can be recognized. Especially
indicative is the definition of the cultic areas, which provides evidence of the public
dimension assumed by the sacred in the reorganized urban context.
The system of cities also took over the territorial divisions that had previously
been organized according to a system suited to a scattered population. In the Sarno
Valley, a huge process of agglomeration led to the abandonment of the villages that
went back to the Early Iron Age in favor of Pompeii and the newly founded city of
Nuceria, signaled by the opening of necropolises located outside the area that would
be enclosed by the walls in a later period.
In the Sorrentine Peninsula, the population was structured into a series of set-
tlements and stopovers. The northern slope was more densely occupied, where the
settlement of Stabiae was joined by the major one of Sorrento, in which, as at Nuceria,
the necropolises of the beginning of the sixth century were located outside the urban
perimeter subsequently defined by the walls. Minor centers also developed at Vico
Equense, Piano di Sorrento, and, along a route to the inland, Sant’Agata dei due Golfi.
On the southern slope, the settlement of Vietri sul Mare was placed at the start
of the peninsula, in a location sheltered from the winds and currents. In this area of
the Gulf of Salerno, the main center consists of the settlement of Fratte, founded at
the beginning of the sixth century on the Irno River to control the inland route con-
necting the Sarno Valley and northern Campania to the Agro Picentino. It is to be
identified with the Etruscan Marcina registered by Strabo (5.4.13), called Mamarcina
and believed to be an Ausonian foundation in another tradition probably going back
to Hecataeus of Miletus (Steph. Byz. s.v. Mamarcina).40
38 Colonna and Pellegrino 2002; see also de Simone 2004. On the context of the tomb and the relevant
area of the burial see Pellegrino 2008, 448–49; forthcoming.
39 Cerchiai 1995, 99–177; 2010a, 55–93.
40 Greco and Pontrandolfo 1990, 14.

The reorganization of the settlement planning connected with the achievement

of the urban system was accompanied by the diffusion of Etruscan culture, which a
long-accepted scholarly tradition considers to be the outcome of a “second coloni-
zation” (see below). Actually, the “Etruscanization” of the Archaic period does not
derive from a migratory movement, nor from a planned form of political hegemony,
but constitutes the outcome of a process of integration of the various components of
the population under the propulsive and inclusive force of the Etruscan element.41
The most obvious sign of the process of “Etruscanization” consists of the diffu-
sion of Etruscan writing into areas of native traditions. Already documented in the
first half of the sixth century at Stabiae, it went on to wider diffusion, as is proven by
the various attestations that come from centers on the inland plain, Pompeii, and the
Sorrentine peninsula. The writing system is the one used in the areas of the earliest
Etruscan traditions of the Campanian plain and of the Agro Picentino, which in this
early phase followed the scribal usage of Caere and Veii.42
No less indicative is the spread of bucchero, the typical Etruscan dinnerware,
which was being produced throughout the Etruscanized areas of the region with a
broadly shared repertoire of forms and types.
“Etruscanization” functioned to integrate the various regional areas, but did
not annul earlier distinctions in the population. In southern Campania, the differ-
ence remained between the Sarno Valley along with the northern slope of the Sor-
rentine Peninsula, and the Agro Picentino. As for material culture, it is indicative the
pottery made of fine impasto, which was produced consistently until the middle of
the sixth century according to typological repertoires characterized by thoroughly
local emphases. Also significant is the frequent attestation in the necropolises of Vico
Equense and Stabiae of a particular type of “serpentine” fibula with an acorn-shaped
projection. The area of distribution of this fibula, which traces the inland route to the
north but excludes the Agro Picentino, where it is rarely found, suggests a network of
mobility that links the Sorrentine coastal strip and the Sarno Valley with the inland
plain and the Campanian area.
A later and still more significant confirmation of the distinction between the two
Etruscanized areas of southern Campania is offered by the epigraphic evidence, which
at Nuceria, Vico Equense, and Sorrento attests the use of a pre-Samnite Italic dialect
written with a local alphabet related to those attested in the central-Italic Sabine and
South Picene area and in “Oenotrian” Calabria.43
The “Nucerian” alphabet is documented from the middle of the sixth century.
Among the earliest attestations figures the inscription on a bucchero cup from Tomb
41 Cerchiai 2008a.
42 Pellegrino 2008, 424–35.
43 Russo 2005; Senatore and Russo 2010, 25–101.

107 in Nuceria that bears a notation in which the expression teu(tik-) pu(terem), the
“public cup,” has been recognized as referring to the typically Italic institution of the
touta, which designates the political community.
The elaboration of its own writing system is the sign of a special cultural and
political identity defined in oppositional terms in respect to the Etruscans.
The specificity of this territorial division is registered in the historiographic tradition,
which places the Sarrasti in the Sarno Valley and transmits the presence of Pelasgians
at Nuceria, Pompeii, and Herculaneum. Pelasgians generally tend to be identified as
Etruscans, but in this particular case are more suitably associated with the indige-
nous urbanized communities that are definitively distinguished by the possession of
writing.44
At the beginning of the sixth century, the founding of the colony of Poseidonia on
the plain of the Sele profoundly changed the population balance in southern Campa-
nia. It is with this backdrop that the Sorrentine Peninsula, which separated the Gulf of
Cumae from the Gulf of Poseidonia—as the ancient historians called them—acquired
importance. The peninsula was an essential navigational reference point and an
inevitable area of economic and political competition, as the system of myths and
the cults make clear. The ancient cult of the Sirens, situated near the Bay of Ieranto,
was introduced by the polis of Cumae, which took the mythic model of the voyage of
Odysseus to assert control over the passageways needed for the route to the Bay of
Naples.45 On the promontory opposite that bay, at Punta Campanella, rose the temple
of Athena, also attributed by the tradition to Odysseus, which around the middle of
the sixth century was faced with architectural terracottas of the Poseidonian type.46
The cults and the sacred architecture constitute preferential markers for recon-
structing the system of relationships between the various components of the popu-
lation of ancient Campania. Widespread was the “Campanian system” (Fig. 73.8),47
a system of polychrome terracottas on the face of sacred edifices constructed in the
Etruscan manner, with mudbrick walls, and mostly wooden columns and entabla-
tures mostly of wood. This was devised in the first half of the sixth century in northern
Campania, at Cumae or Capua—priority cannot yet be attributed to one or the other—
but during the last quarter of the century it spread throughout southern Campania,
to Pompeii and the Sorrentine Peninsula (the Athenaion of Punta Campanella, Sor-
rento), Fratte, and Pontecagnano.
It is significant that, alongside the “Campanian system,” some centers also
adopted architectural models from Poseidonia, to illustrate the variety of relation-
ships consolidated through public commissions.
44 Cerchiai 2010b. More generally on the historiografic tradition see Mele 2010.
45 Mele 2010, 301–311.
46 Senatore and Russo 2010, 186–87.
47 Rescigno 1998; d’Agostino and Cerchiai 2004, 271–77.

Fig. 73.8: Revetment system of the Temple of Apollo at Pompeii

(after De Caro 1986)
Particularly interesting is the process of urbanization at Pompeii (Fig. 73.9).48 At

the beginning of the sixth century the inhabited terrace was surrounded with a for-
tification wall of blocks of local “pappamonte” tuff, which defined the urban limit
maintained in the successive reconstructions of the wall at the beginning of the fifth
century and the end of the fourth. The Archaic period finds testify to an extensive—
albeit non-homogeneous—occupation of the entire enclosed area, with dwellings
alternating with unbuilt spaces. The occupation of the western sector was intense,
where evidence of public and sacred character is also concentrated. To the northeast,
near the “Casa della Colonna Etrusca” (regio 6.5), was a small sanctuary enclosed
within the dedicated setting of a beech grove, and for this reason known as the cult
of Jupiter. In the southwest corner of the built-up area rose the political and monu-
mental quarter of the city (the Altstadt or Old City). Covering about nine hectares, it
48 For a recent summary of the evidence and the problems connected with the Archaic period of
Pompeii, see Bonghi Jovino 2011; see also Pesando 2010.

Fig. 73.9: Map of Pompeii with localization of the archaic finds (based on Pesando 2010)
dominated from above a bend in the Sarno River, in which the port mentioned in the
sources was probably established. The quarter was crossed by the two main avenues
of the Archaic street plan, the “via Marina” and the southward continuation of the
“via di Mercurio” (“via delle Scuole”), which cross at right angles in correspond-
ence with the plaza revived as the Forum in the Roman period. This part of the city
is encircled by a ring road that seems to respect a boundary marked in the previous
phase by a wall and maybe a moat, of a still controversial date, which in any case is
evidence of the special function carried out by the topography of this sector of the
city. Within it was located the plaza of the Forum, which was already meant to be a
public space at that time, and faced the sanctuary of Apollo, the political and reli-
gious heart of the community.49 The temple, built around 550–530, is of the Etruscan
type, with a high tuff platform and wood elevation (Fig. 73.8). The rich facing returns
to the “Campanian system” and was probably made at Cumae. The choice of Apollo
as patron of the urban foundation is not surprising when we recall the importance of
this god in the Greek colonization in the West and the role of cultural and political
mediation between the Greeks and the other peoples that he played in the sanctu-
ary of Delphi.50 As guarantor of the urban foundation, temple edifices are dedicated
to Apollo in the public areas of many Etrurian and Magna Graecian cities, probably
beginning in Poseidonia itself. With the temple’s Etruscan architecture, instead, the
49 De Caro 1986.

50 d’Agostino and Cerchiai 1998.

Fig. 73.10: Pompeii. Map of the temple in the “Triangular Forum” (after De Waele 2001)
community of Pompeii claims its own cultural coordinates and its integration into the
wider regional system structured under the influence of Cumae and Capua.
The second great sanctuary of the city, dedicated to Athena and probably Hera-
cles, rises in the “Triangular Forum,” placed outside the ring road of the Altstadt, on
a spur on the southeast edge of the terrace of the built-up area overlooking the port.
The temple is the same age as Apollo’s temple, but is of the Greek type (Fig. 73.10),
with a stepped base and a cella surrounded by a peristyle of Doric columns (seven
on the short side, eleven on the long).51 Not much is preserved of the original facing.
The architectural terracottas from a refacing dating to around 500 are better known.
Comparison with the sacred architecture of Poseidonia suggests the participation of
a workforce from the Greek city. The decorative scheme provides for a cornice deco-
rated with a double-braided motif and eaves (sima) with lion-head dripstones on their
long sides, a large torus with scales on the short sides, and a series of serpent heads
in the middle. It is a representation of the Hydra, which evokes the episode of its
slaughter by Heracles, the civilizing hero who in the course of his miraculous labors
was received by distant foreign populations following the hospitality laws and giving
Heracles the appropriate welcome from a politically structured community. His pres-
ence alongside Athena suggests the purpose of the sanctuary, which, in relation to the
port, must have developed a function of welcome and acceptance. At the foot of the
built-up area, at the edges of the coastal lagoon connected to the mouth of the Sarno,
51 De Waele 2001.

Fig. 73.11: Fratte. Plan of the ancient settlement (courtesy R. Pinto)

the sacred areas in Sant’Abbondio, Fondo Iozzino, and Bottaro were located. The last
of these was connected with Neptune in the Roman period, a god originally linked to
springs and flowing waters.
At Fratte, on the Gulf of Salerno, the purpose of the spaces is also defined at the
moment of the center’s foundation at the beginning of the sixth century (Fig. 73.11).52
The settlement developed on the upper slopes overlooking the Irno River, bounded
on the other two sides by its tributaries, the Grancano and the Pastorano. To this first
phase belongs a large apsed shelter at the northern edge of the inhabited area, near
the left bank of the Pastorano. The necropolises are located beyond the stream, and
probably developed in relation to the accessway that went up the Irno Valley.
The qualitative leap marked by the urbanization process can be followed more
easily at Pontecagnano.53 Beginning in the late seventh–early sixth century, the
eastern sector of the inhabited area took on a primarily artisanal purpose signaled by
the installation of tile and pottery kilns. On the western slope were two sanctuaries.54
The first was located in the “public” area of Via Bellini-Via Verdi and is dedicated to
Apollo, as shown by a series of vase dedications distributed throughout the period
from the sixth to the fourth centuries. The dedications are written in Greek, in the
Achaean alphabet of Poseidonia, a recurrence that has led to the hypothesis of attrib-
uting their drafting to personnel of the cult who came from the Greek polis. To the
dedications is added an Etruscan inscription that names Manth, an Etruscan god con-
nected with the process of founding a city, assimilated in the Roman scholarly tradi-
tion to Apollo himself (see chapter 18 Maras).55 The placement of the sanctuary, facing
the plaza in the public area of the city, is evidence of the political value of the sacred
area, which would have allowed for the function of the cult of Apollo to be defined
according to the model already described for Pompeii.
A second sanctuary was founded to the northwest, in the suburb of Pastini, on
an outcropping of the plateau cut by torrential gullies. It was dedicated to a chthonic
goddess, linked to the sphere of fertility and rites of passage, as transpires from the
votive offerings that include shapeless pieces, round “loaves” and bars of bronze,
including one with an impression of a dry branch, miniature iron weapons and shack-
les related to the practice of manumission. The name of the goddess may be recov-
ered from the dedication on a bucchero kantharos, where the divine name Luas has
been recognized, an Etruscan goddess corresponding to the Latin Lua, “the verdant
(goddess),” according to an etymology that evokes the swampy, untamed countryside
52 For a recent summary on the stages of settlement see Campanelli 2011, 198–207.
53 Pellegrino and Rossi 2011, 212–14.
54 Bailo Modesti, Battista et al. 2005; Bailo Modesti, Cerchiai et al. 2005; Bailo Modesti, Frezza et al.
2005.
55 Colonna 1997.

Fig. 73.12: Etrusco-corinthian pottery from Pontecagnano:

kotyle by the Wolf’s Head Painter (courtesy L. Cerchiai)
in which the sanctuary was sited.56 The sanctuary also yielded a bucchero cup from
the late sixth century with the inscription amina [---]s, a gentilic that recalls the name
of the legendary population of the Aminei mentioned in the sources.57 In this regard
we should mention the discovery at Poseidonia of a silver disc with a dedication in
Greek to Hera by “oligarchs of Amina,”58 which allows us to relate the term to a ter-
ritorial designation connected to the area of Pontecagnano or a neighboring district.
The process of reorganization also beset the necropolises, which expanded into
adjacent previously unused areas, anyway in connection with the suburban road
network.59 Relevant above all is the development of the necropolis of Piazza Risorgi-
mento, which became the biggest and most important burial area of the settlement.
The new funeral plots remained available to families for several generations and
were sometimes provided with equipment connected to the funerary cult.60 These
groups exhibit the most striking forms of funerary luxury, testimony to the economic
and social changes brought about by the process of urbanization. The funerary
display sometimes contemplates the adoption of cremation, inspired by ideological
references and eschatological beliefs stemming from the Greek world. This was prac-
ticed above all in the main version of the bustum, but cases do exist in which the cre-
mated remains were gathered in Corinthian kraters, following a markedly Dionysiac
ritual that is also documented in the Etruscanized area of northern Campania.
56 Colonna and Schiano di Cola 2007.

57 Bailo Modesti 1984; on the inscription, ibid. 255–76.
58 La Regina 1998.
59 Bonaudo, Cuozzo, Mugione, et al. 2009, 178–84.
60 Pellegrino 2004–5.

Fig. 73.13: Fratte. Juglet from Tomb 26/1963 with Greek inscription. Translation:
Apollodoros loves Xylla, Volcas sodomizes Apollodoros, Onata loves Nixò, Ybrichos have
loved Parmynis (after Pontrandolfo 1987, fig. 20)
The grave goods provide an illustrative outline of the productive and economic
system of the new urban circumstances, evidencing the development of specialized
production such as bucchero or ceramic tableware with geometric decoration, which
are associated with more exclusive products with figural decoration that imitate the
Corinthian style (Fig. 73.12).61 The recurrence of luxury items imported from Etruria
and Greece confirms the inclusion of Pontecagnano in the course of Tyrrhenian trade,
notwithstanding the reorganization of the center following the founding of Poseido-
nia and Fratte.
The city’s consumer system increased the center’s force of attraction, exercised
as in the earlier phase especially toward the Apennine hinterland, which also acted
on a much wider radius, as shown by the integration within the western necropolis of
Piazza Sabbato of a group that came from the middle Adriatic region.62
Beginning in the second half of the sixth century, the increase in epigraphic evi-
dence offers more widespread confirmation of the arrival of individuals and groups
of various origins.63 The integration within the citizenry passes through the adoption
of the language and the Etruscan onomastic system. The case of the Greek Meliton,
who may have come from Cumae, which gave rise to the Etruscanized gentilic name
Milithuna is emblematic of this system. Other epigraphic evidence instead informs
us of the bonds of friendship that local people maintained with foreigners, woven
together in particular with Greeks from the nearby Poseidonia and celebrated in the
61 Cerchiai 1990.
62 Cinquantaquattro and Cuozzo 2003; Bonaudo et al. 2009, 178–84.
63 Pellegrino 2010.

framework of the symposium. Evidence of this type of relationship comes from Tomb
26/1963 in Fratte, dated to the beginning of the fifth century (Fig. 73.13).64 The Greek
inscription on a small black-glazed juglet from Poseidonia celebrates erotic practices
among people with Greek, Etruscan, and native names in the framework of a sym-
posium held in the Achaean city. Relationships of aristocratic hospitality are also
revealed by the presence of dedications of vessels in Greek, using the Cumaen alpha-
bet, found in tombs in Nuceria and at Massa Lubrense, on the Sorrentine Peninsula.65
At Fratte, the vase inscriptions in tombs evidence the multifarious components
of a community open to mobility and exchange.66 Etruscans, Greeks, and Italics lived
together, using the various languages indifferently, employing the Etruscan alphabet
or the Greek alphabet of Poseidonia. The same Etruscan component appears varied
within it, given that many Etruscan inscriptions move away from alphabetic practices
acquired in Campania, exhibiting instead connections with the scribal traditions of
Tarquinia and Vulci.67
The extraordinary development of Fratte at the end of the sixth century derived
from the function held by the center in the system of Tyrrhenian traffic, which
received a further impulse from the founding of the Phocaean colony of Elea around
540. Fratte became an important stop along the maritime commercial routes that
led toward Etruria, acquiring and sorting toward the inland luxury products such as
banquet services from Etruscan bronzes. The commercial bent and economic ability
of the community are evidenced by the number of transport amphorae found in the
necropolises and by the import of Attic figured ceramics, which also include exam-
ples of extraordinary merit such as the black-figure dinos attributed to the Antimenes
Painter (Fig. 73.14) and the red-figure hydria of the Kleophrades Painter.68 The large
Attic vases are concentrated in specific sectors of the necropolis that pertain to the
elite of the community; they were probably used as cremation urns, following the
ritual already encountered at Pontecagnano, which seems here to assume markedly
“heroic” connotations, as shown by the selection of figural themes—in particular the
predilection for the figure of Heracles.69
The powerful dynamism, favored by the productive mechanism of the urban
system, brought about an acceleration of the social processes that led to a general
reorganization of the community at the end of the sixth century.
The most obvious archaeological confirmation of these changes consists of the
qualitative leap noted in the organization of the urban space.
64 Pontrandolfo 1987; for this type of relationship and the phenomena of mobility revealed by the
epigraphic evidence, see d’Agostino and Cerchiai 2004, 279–82.
65 Colonna 1974 and Zancani Montuoro 1983; see also d’Agostino and Cerchiai 2004, 281.
66 Greco and Pontrandolfo 1990, 301–9.
67 Colonna 1994, 359–60; Pellegrino 2008, 432–33.
68 Greco and Pontrandolfo 1990, 196, 231–34, figs. 314–15, 387–94.
69 Tomay 2009, 161–65.

Fig. 73.14: Fratte. Attic dinos from Tomb VI–XV/1927

(after Campanelli 2011)
At Fratte (Fig. 73.11), the built-up area is surrounded by a fortification of ram-

parts supplemented by a moat. The only extensively explored quarter (the so-called
“Acropolis”), in the highest part of the city, is organized by a series of parallel east-
west streets, crossed by a nearly perpendicular axis.70 The city blocks have build-
ings of various typologies and sizes, among which is indicated a large residential
complex organized around a central court.71 The quarter is served by a complex water
supply system, which, using wells, fountains, underground pipes and surface chan-
nels, ensured the provision of water and the drainage and disposal of rainwater. The
sacred areas are monumentalized contextually.72 One was in the lower part, near a
spring along the Grancano stream; the other was in the upper part, integrated into
the planned quarter of the “Acropolis.” An enormous quantity of materials has been
recovered from sacred areas—albeit out of context—among them architectural ele-
ments that attest to the presence of buildings with stone elements.73 These materials
evidence the influence exercised by Poseidonia, the source of some stone cornices,
70 Pontrandolfo and Santoriello 2011, 167–70.

71 Pontrandolfo 2009.
72 For a synthesizing framework see Tomay 2002.
73 Greco and Pontrandolfo 1990, 167–70; Pontrandolfo, Serritella, and Monda 2011.

Fig. 73.15: Fratte. Acroterion with Heracles and the Nemean lion
(after Campanelli 2011)
a series of lotus-flower antefixes different from the “Campanian” ones, and a male
head of clay that may belong to a cult statue. These elements are associated with a
tuff Tuscan column and architectural terracottas of the “Campanian” type, perhaps
derived from Capuan prototypes, in a mixture that reveals the complex variety of ref-
erences which speak to the high level of public patronage of the Campanian centers
in this period.
Information about the cults is lacking. The most interesting fact concerns the
probable rooting of the cult of Heracles in this period, documented on the acropolis
in the following Samnite period by an inscription from the area of the sanctuary and
by architectural terracottas, among them an acroterion depicting the hero in combat
with the Nemean lion (Fig. 73.15).74 This hypothesis is supported by the discovery in
a well in the sacred precinct of a Late Archaic gold ring on whose cornelian bezel is
depicted the same feat of the hero.75 The presence of the cult of Heracles already in
the Archaic period can perhaps be framed according to the ideological coordinates
evidenced in the case of Pompeii and at the same time leads to a reconsideration of
the favor found in the funerary sphere for scenes linked to his labours.
74 Greco and Pontrandolfo 1990, 68, fig. 78.

75 Campanelli 2011, 205, fig. 241.

At Pontecagnano, the Late Archaic reorganization of the settlement took on the

connotation of a real “refounding” of the city (Fig. 73.2).76 The limits of the built-up
area came to be redefined, carving beyond parts of the eastern crafts quarter and
including a wide marshy coast to the northeast, drained by means of two large recla-
mation trenches. The city was surrounded by a fortification wall, perhaps preceded
by a moat, attested for certain at the end of the fifth century to the beginning of the
fourth. Special finds are connected to the fortifications, that evidence how the bound-
aries of the city would have been realized following an inauguration ritual, compara-
ble to that reported in the tradition as the Etrusca Disciplina (see chapter 18 Maras). At
the foot of the wall runs a narrow canal that has been proposed to be identified with
the sulcus primigenius. Not far away, a well was dug in which a jug connected with a
ritual offering was deposited; beyond an empty space, some 37.5 m from the wall, a
sort of cippus marks the edge of what is probably the pomerium.
The urban space is organized on a rectangular plan per strigas, like that of nearby
Poseidonia. The plan provides blocks all the same size (ca. 46 × 275 m), which take
two rows of residential lots, with rectangular dwellings that occupy a small part of the
lot, with the rest serving as courtyards and gardens.
Carrying out the new urban plan through the division into lots required the defini-
tion of a new view of property, within the ambit of a program that also included a new
organization of agrarian land. An operation of this scope implies a radical renewal of
the community’s political equilibrium, carried out in the sphere of an ideological con-
struction that enhances the value of the ethnic paradigm of “Etruscanness.” In addi-
tion to the foundation rituals connected with defining the boundaries of the city, is
indicative the recovery of the aforementioned dedication to the Etruscan Manth—who
seems to be substituted for the Greek Apollo at the moment of the settlement’s urban
refounding—in the sanctuary of the public area.77 The city name Tyrseta may also
date to this period. Transmitted by Philistus (FGrHist 556, F 42) and formed on the eth-
nonym of the Tyrrhenoi/Tyrsenoi, it is perhaps attributed to the renewed urban entity
of Pontecagnano or Fratte, and the notion of Tyrsenikos Kolpos included in Sophocles’
Triptolemos of 468 (F 598 Radt).78
This was the moment of the greatest diffusion of Etruscan writing, attested in
the necropolises of Pontecagnano, especially with epigraphs marking ownership of
vases, but also by a vase dedication to Turan, the Etruscan goddess assimilated to
the Greek Aphrodite.79 The onomastic repertoire documents the widespread use of
the gentilic name, which designates the independent family and marks the status of
76 Pellegrino and Rossi 2011, 73–106, 214–18.

77 Colonna 2007, with bibliography.
78 Cerchiai 2008a, 407–8, with bibliography.
79 Pellegrino 2008. See also chapter 18 Maras.

citizen with full rights. This, actually, is the prerogative of adults, while children bear
only the individual name.
Etruscan inscriptions of this period also come from Eboli, confirming the cultural
and linguistic scene of reference of the southern portion of the Agro Picentino.80
4 Samnite Tyrrhenia (fifth–fourth centuries)

The years straddling the sixth and fifth centuries also brought great changes on the
southern shores of the Bay of Naples and the inland plain. Vase inscriptions appear
in a language similar to Samnite using an Etruscan alphabet; in short time epigraphic
evidence written in the earlier Italic dialect in the “Nucerian” alphabet runs out.
This phenomenon has been connected with an early Samnite penetration into
the territory, triggered by the great expedition of Etruscans and barbarians against
Cumae in 524 (Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 7.3.1).81 Other than in the vase inscriptions, the use
of Oscan is well known in the city names Nola82 and Nuceria (Noukeria), which mark
the two centers as “new cities,” as was also the case for the nearby Greek foundation
of Neapolis. The new names mark the qualitative leap with respect to the previous
community arrangement, in the case of Nuceria probably based on the institution of
the touta, evidencing the renewed ethnic connotations of the two cities by means of
the language.
In the new context, the role of the Etruscans became marginal, further dimin-
ished on the Tyrrhenian backdrop by the defeat of the coastal Etrurian cities in the
second battle of Cumae in 474 (Diod. Sic. 11.51). The resulting situation is symbolically
reflected in the Periplus of Pseudo-Scylax (GGM 1.19–20), which dates to between the
late fifth and mid fourth centuries, and which does not register an Etruscan presence
on the coasts of Campania. Instead, it calls the people settled between the Lucanians
(of Poseidonia) and the Campanians (of Neapolis and Cumae) “Samnites.”
On the southern shores of the Bay of Naples the presence of etruscophones is
documented at least until the late fourth century by inscriptions from Pompeii and
Vico Equense, but by now the linguistic and cultural context is fully samnitized.
The situation in the Gulf of Salerno is clearer. The collapse of the Archaic period
system of exchange produced a gradual reorganization of Fratte, whose center seems
to revive only in the mid fourth century, when lavish reconstruction overtook the
quarter of the acropolis and the related sanctuary. The cult of Heracles was resur-
rected as a reference in the construction of the political identity of the samnitized
80 CIE 8867–8868; Colonna 1998.

81 Colonna 2005, 1763–71.
82 The earliest attestation of this city name is in Hecataeus (Steph. Byz. s.v. Nola), at the end of the
sixth century BCE.

community, hinged on a limited aristocratic group that used chamber tombs below
the sanctuary. The presence of the burials on the acropolis marks a discontinuity with
respect to the previous settlement plan, which integrated a widespread system of
farmsteads into the territory.83
At Pontecagnano, the process of “samnitization” affected a still vital commu-
nity at the end of the fifth century. The most obvious sign of change is found in the
necropolises, where there appear burials of soldiers in the southern Italic custom,
featuring the spearhead that is often associated with the bronze belt and, in excep-
tional cases, featuring the three-disc cuirass. In the last decades of the fifth century,
there are limited funerary groups known, many of which are in areas never previously
utilized for funerary purposes, but which are still accessible from the suburban road
network. Their positioning around the inhabited area evidences the preservation of
the previous urban plan, confirmed by the restoration of the fortifications, the conti-
nuity of use of the public area and the sanctuaries, and the maintenance of the urban
blocks notwithstanding the reconstruction that assailed the individual plots. A sig-
nificant sign of continuity consists of the preservation of the Etruscan language, doc-
umented by many inscriptions until the middle or third quarter of the fourth century,
as opposed to the few inscriptions in Greek language or script attributable to the new
arrivals.
It may be this continuity that contributed to the preservation of the ethnic name,
if the Tyrrhenoi came from the Agro Picentino, and who—together with the Lucan-
ians and Brettians—went as a delegation to Alexander in Babylonia in 323 (Arr. Anab.
7.15.4), and were responsible, along with the Romans, for the barbarization of Posei-
donia in the lament of Aristoxenus (F. 124 Wehrli).84 Referring to a similar context,
attributed to Pontecagnano or the Agro Picentino are the Etruscan pirate Postumius,
who in 339/338 offered his services to Timoleon (Diod. Sic. 16.82.3), and the mercenar-
ies who in the same period struck bronze coins in Sicily with the legend Tyrrhe(non).85
The fate of Samnite Tyrrhenia was sealed with the arrival of the Romans, which
for the Agro Picentino was full of consequences. Beginning at the end of the fourth
century to the beginning of the third, the centers of Fratte and Pontecagnano show
clear signs of a crisis that culminated with their final destruction around the middle
of the third century, indicated in the built-up areas by the choking of the wells with
building materials, ceramic fragments, and detritus of daily life.”. The event finds a
symbolic representation at Pontecagnano, where the closing of the two sanctuaries
involves the demolition of the buildings and the celebration of appropriate rites of
expiation.86
83 Greco Pontrandolfo 1980.

84 Cerchiai 1996; Pellegrino 2014.
85 Colonna 2005, 177–78; on the the bronze coins see Cantilena 2016.
86 Cerchiai 2008b, 24–26.

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Vincenzo Bellelli
74 Northern Campania
Abstract: The northern part of Campania offers the main “body of evidence” about the presence of
Etruscan civilization outside Etruria. Literary sources, epigraphic data and archaeological discoveries
confirm that the Etruscans in the region developed an advanced urban civilization, and from the late
tenth century BCE onward founded several cities around Mount Vesuvius, while never reaching the
coast. Capua and Nola were the main centers of Etruscan Campania. The former, according to ancient
written sources, was the capital of a dodecapolis (a confederation of twelve cities). The results of a
deep cultural and ethnic interaction between the Etruscans and the indigenous peoples, the Opikoi
and the Ausones, gave birth in northern Campania to a mixed civilization, which included the entire
mesogaia, the fertile hinterland. In the fifth century BCE, the Etruscan cities of Campania were cap-
tured by the Campanians.
Keywords: Etruscans, Italic peoples, Capua, Fossakultur, mesogaia
1 Land and people in northern Campania according

to the ancient authors
The great German scholar Julius Beloch opened his famed book on ancient Campania
with the following sentence: “Campanien hat nie ein politisches Ganzes gebildet.”1
This introductory remark well summarizes the complex reality of ancient Campania2
and fits perfectly with our purpose of introducing an archaeological synthesis on the
presence of the Etruscans in this important region of ancient Italy, and in particular
in the northern part of it.
The northern part of this region consists of a large territory encircling from north-
west to southeast the so-called crater—that is, the fertile central Campanian plain
between Cape Miseno and Cape Ateneo (Fig. 73.1)3. This region is basically flat, but
is embraced by some small groups of mountains—the Gauro, the Falerno and the
Massico, which give the region natural “protection” without being a barrier. The
natural boundaries of the region can be considered the Garigliano River to the north,
the Samnite Appennines to the east, the Nocera Mounts and the Sorrentine peninsula
to the south, and the Tyrrhenian Sea to the west. The ancient sources also make a
clear distinction between the hinterland (mesogaia) and the coast (paralia) (Polyb.
3.9.2; Strabo 5.4.3). The mesogaia, in particular, ties up to the west the area known
as the “Phlegraean Fields,” which, together with the islands of Procida and Ischia,
1 Beloch 1890, 1.
2 The term “Campania” is derived from the adjective “Campanus,” which refers to the ager of the
main city of the region, Capua.
3 De Franciscis 1992.
1396 Vincenzo Bellelli
forms a geographical unit. From a geographical point of view there is no clear frontier
between Latium and Campania and the two regions can be considered strictly linked
to each other by means of an ancient route of connection traced in historical times by
the Via Latina.
The region was famed in antiquity for the abundance of natural resources and for
the flourishing economic activities.4
As to the population, the written sources (Antiocus apud Strabo 5.4.3; Livy 4.37;
Polyb. 2.17; Plin. HN 3.60) distinguish two different groups of populations in Campa-
nia: the “invaders” (the Greeks, Etruscans, Samnites and Romans), and the native
populations (the Opikoi and Ausones).5 The Opikoi in particular are described as the
native populations settled in the vast area placed around the Vesuvius volcano, up to
the coast, where they are installed at the site, Cumae, which was selected for occupa-
tion by the Greek colonists from Euboea.6
The Ausones are considered by the classical authors (Ael. VH 9.16) the most
ancient indigenous population of Campania.7 Even though some cities of the meso-
gaia, like Nola, are described by some authorities as Ausonian foundations,8 it is gen-
erally accepted that the Ausones had settled in historical times only in the northern
part of Campania, close to the Latium vetus while in Roman times the presence of the
Aurunci is registered.
Within this interesting ethnic framework depicted by the ancient authors, it is
worth nothing that at the beginning there is no mention of Tyrrhenians/Etruscans in
the northern Campania, since our principle source of information for sixth century
Italy—the milesian Ecataious’ account, which was based on the information given
to him by traders and mariners of Ionia—presents the main site of the region, Capua
(corresponding to the modern city of Santa Maria Capua Vetere),9 as a polis Italias
instead of a Tyrrhenian foundation.10
4 Beloch 1890, 379–386.

5 For an overall picture on the ancient sources on Campania before the Romans, see Lepore 1978 and
1989, Martin 1984; Mele 1991 and Mele 2014b. On the Greek presence in Campania, see in particular:
Mele 2014a.
6 Recent researches have revealed the high consistency of the Opician settlement of Cuma (so called
pre-Hellenic Kyme) before the colonization. Despite previous conjectures, the village would have
spread outside the limits of the natural acropolis; see Greco 2009; for interpretation see d’Agostino
2011b.
7 Recent analyses in Musti 2009; Mele 2010; Chiaramonte Treré 2011 and Colonna 2011. The sources
are collected in Pagliara 2002.
8 Bugno 2009; Cesarano 2011.
9 Despite the name, ancient Capua corresponds to the modern city of Santa Maria Capua Vetere, not
to be confused with the modern Capua.
10 It has been argued, in particular, that in Ecataious’ picture of Campania there is an open reticence
in admitting the participation of the Etruscans in the peopling of the region: Colonna 1991, 26.

74 Northern Campania 1397
Very different is the perspective outlined by the Greek and Roman authors of the
third to first centuries BCE and of the Roman Imperial period, who emphasize the
Etruscan domination in Campania and focus on the leading role of Capua and Nola,
whose foundation by the Etruscans, according to Marcus Velleius Paterculus (1.7),
would date back to the age of Hesiod.11
Velleius, however, also registers an opposite hypothesis on the foundation of
Capua (and Nola) referring to old Cato’s proposal to date this event 260 years before
the Roman conquest of the city. Modern commentators have offered different inter-
pretations of this ancient dispute, speculating about the time and the date of the two
alleged Etruscan foundations of the city,12 which have seemed necessary to some
scholars not to refute Cato’s authority.13
The Etruscan cities of northern Campania, finally, do not appear in Dionysius
of Halicarnassus’ account (7.3.1) of the Etruscan expedition against the Greek city
of Cumae (524 BCE). He mentions neither Capua nor the other Etruscan cities in the
region. The invaders were Etruscans coming from the Adriatic coast, mixed with italic
bands of Piceni and Dauni.14 It is probably the symptom of a vast process of geo-
graphic mobility from north to the south affecting the Italic world.15 What is clear is
that after this event, the archaeological record documents the extraordinary flourish-
ing of Capua (phase VI in Werner Johannowsky’s periodization), which will last after
a very short time because of the Samnite conquest.16
2 Previous research and history of studies

Julius Beloch, Jacques Heurgon and Martin Frederiksen can be considered the fore-
runners of modern research on the Etruscans in northern Campania, and in particular
at Capua.17 They have provided large historical synthesis on this matter and have con-
tributed their observations as the foundations for future discussion. More recently,
Johannowsky’s contribution to archaeological research in this area has been enor-
mous.18 His periodization of ancient Capua’s cultural development19 is still in use. He
has distinguished six phases and several sub-phases (Table 1):
11 Musti 1992. Strabo (5.4.3) in particular accounts for an Etruscan dodecapolis in Campania, similar
to that of southern Etruria, of which Capua would have been the capital.
12 Bellelli 2006, 119–20.
13 Recent discussion in Musti 1992; Cerchiai 2010a, 31–2; d’Agostino 2011a, 77–78 and Sirano 2014a.
14 Colonna 2005, 155–60.
15 As stated by M. Cristofani (1997, 189) and M. Torelli (1994, 867).
16 Bellelli 2006, 110–22.
17 Beloch 1890, 339–421; Heurgon 1970; Frederiksen 1979 and 1984.
18 His contributions on this matter are now usefully collected in one volume: Johannowsky 2010.
19 Johannowsky 1965; 1983, 7–88.

Table 1: W. Johannowsky’s periodization of Capua
Phase Phase Phase Phase Phase Phase Phase Phase Phase Phase Phase Phase
IA IB IIA IIB IIC IIIA IIIB IVA IVB IVC V VI
900– 850– 800– 775– 750– 725– 670– 640– 625– 590– 570– 525–
850 800 775 750 725 670 640 625 590 570 525 426
In recent times, many works have been devoted to the Etruscans in Campania.20 Short
syntheses on this subject have also been published within works dealing with more
general topics, like Etruscan civilization21 or the Etruscan collections in important
European Museums.22 The enormous bulk of information from the postwar period
can be found within the proceedings of the four conferences devoted to the Campa-
nian region held by the Institute of Etruscan Studies.23 Furthermore, a lot of particular
studies have been devoted to different matters: among them we mention the publica-
tions on Etrusco-Campanian artistic production, and in particular on the ceramic and
terracotta production referable to ancient Capua, which are already available or are
being realized in the framework of the Series “Capua preromana.”24 Finally, worthy of
mention are the publications on the history of research, which deal mainly with the
sites of Capua and Nola.25
3 The main center of the region: Capua
3.1 The Iron Age (Phases I–II: 900–725 BCE)
Along with Pontecagnano, Capua is the main Etruscan center of Campania.26 Accord-
ing to Strabo (5.4.2) the city was the capital of an Etruscan dodecapolis similar to that
of proper Etruria described in the written sources, even though there is reason to
20 Cristofani 1987; Colonna 1991; Cerchiai 1995; 1999; 2008; 2010a; 2010b; 2011; Massa-Pairault 1996,
138–142; Bonghi Jovino 2000; d’Agostino 1996; 2001; 2011a; Pellegrino 2013a.
21 Haynes 2000, 197–200; Camporeale 2011, 425–45; Cuozzo 2012.
22 Szilágyi 1988; Kästner 2010.
23 Atti Salerno-Padula-Paestum-Caserta-Teano-Capua 1965; Atti Benevento 1992; Atti Salerno-
Pontecagnano 1994; Atti Caserta-Santa Maria Capua Vetere-Capua-Teano 2011.
24 Bonghi Jovino 1965–2011; for bronze working see also Grassi 1996; 2000; Bellelli 2002a; Gilotta
2006.
25 Benassai 2011; Cammarota 2000; 2001; 2003; Lyons 2007; Castaldo 2011.
26 For an overall picture of the history of ancient Capua see Gilotta 2009; Melandri 2011c and Sirano
2013.

believe that this information does not exactly correspond to the real political organi-
zation of the region during the Archaic period.27
Like other Etruscan and Campanian centers, there is virtually no evidence of
occupation at Capua prior of the late Bronze Age/Early Iron Age.28 It has been sug-
gested in the past that the site was settled by Etruscan groups coming from the Tiber
region around the late tenth century,29 but the picture emerging both from the litera-
ture and the archaeological evidence clearly suggests that since its first appearance,
Capua’s Etruscan identity is very distinctive and originates from a deep network of
contacts between the Etruscan newcomers and the native populations.30
Systematic excavations have been undertaken on several sites and large areas
used as cemeteries have been found in Località Cappuccini, Nuovo Mattatoio, Fornaci
and Quattordici Ponti31 (Fig. 74.1). A small strip of the Early Iron Age settlement (rem-
nants of huts) attributable to the first phase of Johannowsky’s periodization has been
unearthed northwest of the modern village of S. Maria Capua Vetere, not far from the
Nuovo Mattatoio necropolis.32
The first phase of Capua’s history (IA: 900–850 BC) has been for a long time a
matter of discussion, known by only the small group of sporadic bronze fibulae kept
in the storerooms of Museo Campano and by the exceptional evidence of the tomb 1
of S. Angelo in Formis’ necropolis, which contained proto-Villanovan type vases.33
Due to this lack of archaeological evidence, previous debate focused on the few
and problematic facts described by the written sources (in particular those contain-
ing toponomastic data)34 and speculated on a potentially dangerous argumentum
ex silentio—that is, the absence within Capua’s domestic Iron Age repertoire of the
Etruscan “index fossil” of biconical urn.35 Despite the large success encountered by
Giovanni Colonna’s authoritative proposal to identify ethnic elements coming from
the Faliscan center of Capena and from the Etruscan city of Veii among the “Etrus-
can” conquerors of Terra di Lavoro,36 it has been recently argued that the Villanovan
center of Capua would not have differed from the south-Etruscan Villanovan mani-
27 Recent discussion in Bellelli 2006, 118–9, with references to previous literature.

28 Occhilupo 2011; on the most ancient human presences in the area see Minoja and Raposso 1996
and Nava 2011. More generally, on the protohistory of northern Campania see the recent account in
Albore Livadie 2014. Some new interesting data are now available thanks to the survey of Quilici Gigli
2012 in the Tifata area.
29 Colonna 1991, 38.
30 Melandri 2011a.
31 Johannowsky 1983; Chiaramonte Treré 1999; Setti 2000; Colombo and Stanislao 2011; Melandri
2011a; Occhilupo 2011.
32 Allegro and Santaniello 2008.
33 Johannowsky 1994; 1996.
34 Torelli 1981, 42; Colonna 1991, 36–40; Sirano 2014a.
35 See in particular the comments of Colonna 1991, 36.
36 Colonna 1991, 36–7.

Tempio Diana Tifatina
Tomba n°1
Sant'Angelo in Formis
Loc. Parisi
Alveo Marotta
Loc. Cupa degli Spiriti
Loc. Cappuccini
Fondo Tirone
Loc. Fornaci Loc. Santella

Loc. 4 Santi
Loc. Arco
Fondo della Valle
Loc. Ponte San Prisco Alveo Marotta
Fondo Paccone
Santuario Fondo Patturelli
Loc. Cappella dei Lupi
Loc. 14 Ponti
lla
upare
o C
Alve
Loc. Cuparella
Fig. 74.1: Capua: general plan (courtesy V. Sampaolo)

festations37. At the origins of the settlement there would be the arrival from Etruria of
human groups searching for new territories.38 Thanks to Gianluca Melandri’s recent
book on Capua’s Iron Age, our knowledge of this subject is now enormously aug-
mented39. He has drawn attention to the distinctiveness of the Capua’s Villanovan
markers (funerary rite, razor shapes, typology of urns and related lids), suggesting
that ever since the starting of phase IB (second half of the ninth century), they would
have been absorbed by the background of the local Fossakultur.
Whatever we consider this first phase of Capua’s history, it seems certain that the
Villanovan elements of Capua’s Iron Age repertory, if compared to Pontecagnano’s,
are weak and atypical in a diachronic perspective, suggesting that the very Villano-
van look of northern Campania lasted only a few decades in order to make room for
a hybrid culture.40
Capua’s main Iron Age cemeteries are located northwest of the ancient urban
area. From phase IB onwards, inhumation became the predominant funerary rite.
Weapons are very rare in the male burials of this period, but the social and gender
distinctions are always clearly detectable thanks to the presence or absence of some
archaeological markers (razors for men; domestic instruments and ornaments for
women). In the situation of generalized uniformity, at Capua there are some Iron Age
graves that stand out because of their exceptional typology and the quality of their
contents. Among these, it is particularly worth mentioning the Nuovo Mattatoio 1
tomb, an exceptional tumulus grave dated to the middle of ninth century containing
a set of clay vases (Fig. 74.2), a small group of exotic vessels and luxury goods, and
the ashes of an incinerated warrior buried together with his sword.41 Facing such an
extraordinary grave and its particular position (it lies near the Volturno River at the
core of a cemetery area which is organized around the tumulus itself), it is difficult
to avoid the impression that it is the tomb of an eminent member of Capua’s Iron Age
community, a sort of oikistes coming from abroad.42
As happens elsewhere in southern and central Italy, at the turning point of
the ninth century (where Johannowsky dates the beginning of the second phase),
37 d’Agostino 2011b; 2014.

39 Melandri 2011a; Bellelli 2012.
40 Johannowsky 1989, 37; 1996, 64; Melandri 2011a; see also E. Santaniello, in Allegro and Santaniello
2008, 27. Prominent among the remarkable previous discussion on this crucial theme are therefore the
provocative proposals by R. Peroni to dissolve the difference between Villanovan and Fossakultur:
Peroni 1994; Atti Roma-Napoli-Pompei 2007, 859–60.
41 d’Agostino 2011a, 73, pl. VIIa; Colombo and Stanislao 2011, 335, note 1, pl. IIIa–c; Melandri 2011a.
See also the comments of M. Pacciarelli (2014, 53).
42 This complex reminds us of the importance of an archaeological discovery of over a century ago—
wrongly underestimated due to its sporadic nature—the discovery in the territory around Capua of a
crested Villanovan bronze helmet now kept in New York: Bellelli 2006, 29, pl. VII:1.

Fig. 74.2: Capua: impasto vases and bronze ornaments from tomb Nuovo Mattatoio I
(photo O. Fabozzi, courtesy G. Melandri)
in the richest graves of Capua appear the first Greek geometric vases in meaning-
ful number.43 They are drinking pots manufactured in the middle geometric style in
Euboea, Attica and in the Cyclades, whose large diffusion in the western Mediter-
ranean indicates the efforts of the Greeks to set up a network of permanent contacts
with ancient Italy’s native populations after the “dark age.”44 In the same time, the
entire northern Campanian region is affected by a vast phenomenon of the circula-
tion of orientalia, aegyptiaca and carved amber, which are finally put in the tombs of
women and children with the function of amulets.45
Among the tombs dating to the end of the eithth century, perhaps to be assigned
already to phase IIIA, special attention is due to tomb 722 at Fornaci.46 It is a rich
fossa grave dated to the second half of the century, where the rite of cremation is
exceptionally applied to a woman whose ashes were put into an impasto “ziro” (large
jar) dressed at the center of the ditch. The grave goods contain a rich set of personal
ornaments, some impasto vases, a drinking-service imported from Pithekoussai and a
little sculpture made of bone representing a naked woman, who reminds us of the so-
43 Gobbi 2011; Melandri 2011a; Melandri and Sirano 2016.

44 Peserico 1995; Kourou 2005.
45 De Salvia 2008; Melandri 2010 and 2011a; Melandri and Sirano 2016. As for the amber, see Grassi
and Minoja 1998 and Borriello 2007.
46 It has been recently the object of two important analyses, and opposing points of view: d’Agostino
2010, Melandri 2011b.

Fig. 74.3: Capua: silver cup from tomb Fornaci 722.

Santa Maria Capua Vetere, Archaeological Museum
(after Allegro et al. 1995)
called “Goddess” of Marsiliana d’Albegna. The furniture also includes a rare Phoeni-
cian silver hemispherical cup with scale decoration under the rim (Fig. 74.3), similar
to those founded at Caere and Praeneste. This context is worth noting because it rep-
resents the anticipation of a cultural phenomenon, the princely tombs of the Oriental-
izing Period, which wasn’t attested at Capua so far. According to Johannowsky, tomb
722 at Fornaci was the tomb of a Greek (Pithecusan) noblewoman living at Capua.47
3.2 The Orientalizing Period (phases IIIA–IVC: 725–570 BCE)
The first part of the Orientalizing Period at Capua, according to excavators, is not as
rich as elsewhere in central and southern Italy.48 Capua’s material culture attributable
to this period and the level of prosperousness of the community as it is reflected from
importations and local productions—suggest indeed a downturn of external trade
and commerce and the starting of a phase of “provincialism” and isolation.49
The vessel repertoire in this phase is dominated by the brown Impasto, the local
conservative ware representing the continuity of local tradition against the cultural
pressure exerted in the sphere of ceramic fashion by the Greek-type ceramics.50 It
is the “national” ware of the Opikoi, widespread everywhere in northern and inner
Campania, representing the more explicit mark of the Fossakultur koiné. Nonetheless,
we can find in the impasto repertoire of northern Campania a great variety of drinking
vessels directly derived from Greek prototypes—in particular oinochoai, kotylai, and
skyphoi.51 The decorations reveal a “provincial” taste. Besides this impasto tableware,
at Capua and elsewhere, the so-called Italo-geometric ware—that is, the interesting
47 Johannowsky 1989, 32.

48 Johannowsky 1983, 298–9; 1989, 43; Minoja 2006a. For a general picture on this period: Minoja
2014; Melandri and Minoja, forthcoming.
49 For a general picture see Albore Livadie 1985.
50 Valenza 1969; Mingazzini 1969; Murolo 2003.
51 Ferrante 2006 and 2007.

Greek-type class of pottery of derivative origin, which imitates the proto-Corinthian

sub-geometric style—is well documented during the Orientalizing Period.52
In phase IV of Johannowsky’s periodization bucchero ware predominates at
Capua. After a short period (phase IV A), during which the supply of this class of
pottery is assured by means of importation from southern Etruria, local workshops
begin producing bucchero vases, in terms of mass-production, at the beginning of the
sixth century53. In this period, the whole northern Campanian district adopts bucchero
as the main tableware. Although this fact has been considered an “ethnic marker,”54
it is actually important to say that the fortune of the bucchero outside Etruria is a
feature that affects several regions of central Italy involved in a vast process of accul-
turation that led to the adoption of this category of Etruscan-type tableware.55 An
interesting small group of Campanian buccheri has also come to light also at Cumae.56
As to corinthianizing pottery, workshops working in the tradition of southern
Etruria are established at Capua and perhaps elsewhere (Suessula, Calatia and Nola)
in order to supply the growing local demand. According to Johannowsky,57 Capua’s
Etrusco-(proto)Corinthian production included small containers of perfumed oil pro-
duced in loco, which were exported both to the Greek colonies of the coast (Cumae,
Pithekoussai and Parthenope),58 and to the indigenous Sarno Valley district.59 On
the other hand, this Etrusco-Corinthian production of northern Campania doesn’t
include any figural vases. This feature indicates that as far as corinthianizing pottery
is concerned, Capua’s case study differs greatly from that of Pontecagnano. At the
Etruscan colony at the Picentino River’s mouth there was an interesting local produc-
tion of figure-vases imitating Corinthian models.60
Also attested at Capua are small quantities of east-Greek vases61 and large
numbers of Corinthian figure-vases, oinochoai, olpai, kotylai and perfume-flasks,62
which reached the region en masse beginning at the end of the seventh century. The
most spectacular items of this series of importations find themselves inside some
rich late-Orientalizing cubo-type graves,63 tufa block tombs shaped like stone cubes
52 On the class see Canciani 1974. On the Campanian productions, see Bellelli 2003a and 2011.
53 Albore Livadie 1979; Rasmussen 1986; Minoja 2000.
54 Cerchiai 2008; Gobbi 2012.
55 Latium vetus, ager faliscus, Sabine and indigenous Campania all adopt bucchero: Naso 2004.
56 Napolitano 2011.
58 Bellelli 2001.
59 Bellelli 2003a.
60 It is disputed whether this group of local vases can be considered, from a stylistic point of view,
the output of a school working on Corinthian or Etrusco-Corinthian models: see Cerchiai 1990 and
Szilágyi 1990.
61 Johannowsky 1978.
62 Minoja 2009.
63 Cerchiai 1998.

holding cremation materials. These exceptional complexes, as tombs 1504 and 1505 at
Fornaci, along with the Corinthian clay imports, also contain elaborate Greek bronze
vases ended up at Capua from the coasts of northern Campania probably via Cumae.
That Greek colony seems to have been the terminal of a commercial network that
linked the Ionian coast of southern Italy to the coasts of Campania (the Sorrentine
Peninsula).64
These Greek bronze vases of Peloponnesian (often Laconian) craftsmanship were
particularly appreciated by Capua’s elite.65 They include sets of wine vases, includ-
ing both large liquid containers (kraters and hydriae) and pouring vases (oinochoai/
pitchers), which sometimes occur at Capua along with large basins with decorated
handles of a type now also documented in northern Basilicata.66
The most spectacular concentration of these exotic goods in Capua is to be found
in a princely tomb known as the Dutuit Tomb or Quattordici Ponti Tomb, which is yet
to be dated at the dawn of the Archaic Period (phase IVC).67
It is a pseudo-chamber grave that was excavated in 1873 in the Quattordici Ponti
necropolis. The extraordinary contents of the tomb were sold worldwide through the
intermediation of the German scholar Wolfgang Helbig, whose intense activity in the
contemporary art market has been recently reconstructed in detail.68 The tomb con-
tained astonishing funerary furnishings: an iron axe, some east-Greek plastic vases,
Corinthian alabastra of the so called Luxus-group, a rich set of Greek and Etruscan
bronzes including a rare infundibulum, some basins with plastic human heads, a large
basin with handles decorated with horse heads manufactured in a southern Etruscan
workshop—perhaps Vulci—and a masterpiece of the contemporary Etruscan bronze
industry, the revetment plaques of a chariot decorated au repoussé with chimaera
figures.69 Some of these objects are missing;70 other items are on display at various
archaeological museums where they ended up at the time of the discovery through
the complex net of the art market.71 Because of the emphasis placed on the status
symbols that the tomb contained—as for instance the currus and the axe—the Quat-
tordici Ponti complex has been interpreted as the tomb of a local chiefdom controlling
the stream of “international” traffic, which reached the Campanian coasts via Cuma.72
64 Cerchiai 1997b.
65 Stibbe 2000; Bellelli 2006, 89–93.
66 Di Giuseppe and Russo 2008, 50, figs. 32–34.
67 Bellelli 1997 and 2006.
68 Iasiello 2011.
69 V. Bellelli and A. Emiliozzi, in Bellelli 2006, 62–75, 131–48.
70 See Bellelli 2006, 22–5, but Ellen Thiermann and Stephan Karl kindly inform me that the axe and
the clay vases have been recently identified respectively in Berlin and in Graz.
71 Bellelli 2006, 25–30.
72 Bellelli 2006, 87–110.

3.3 The Archaic Period (570–470 BCE)
We know very little of Capua in the Archaic Period.73 Recent excavations have revealed
the existence of the remains of stone and mud brick houses in the eastern part of the
city, in the Siepone area, close to the “Furnace” area (Fig. 74.4).74 They display regular
plans and are equipped with architectural roof decorations. Not far from this site, not
many years ago, the Superintendency had explored another small part of the archaic
settlement in the Alveo Marotta area, near the San Prisco bridge, which has been
interpreted by excavators as a pagus inhabited since the beginnings of sixth century
and abandoned around 470.75 Among the buildings explored, besides stone and mud
brick houses, there is also an interesting kiln with a rectangular plan for the produc-
tion of pan tiles.76 It is interesting to note that a small group of inscribed pot sherds
come from this area that enlarge our knowledge of the diffusion of Etruscan literacy
at Capua during the late archaic period.77
In this period—phase VI of Johannowsky’s periodization—we note an interesting
cultural phenomenon at Capua, the marked Hellenization of the customs of the urban
elite.78 After a period of relative “indifference” for the Capuan market, the flourishing
commerce of Athenian figure-vases along the Tyrrhenian coasts reached the Etrusco-
Campanian city and the other urban centers of the hinterland (in particular Nola).
The massive importation of Attic red-figure vases reflects the tastes and the active
choices of the purchasers, which is particularly evident in the selection of the shape
vases and the request of particular images.79
Our principal source of information for this period is the Fornaci necropolis,80 but
a lot of cemeteries dating to this period have been discovered both to the north and to
the south of the ancient settlement.
Two tombs crucial to Capua’s history that are dated to this period are the Lebete
Barone’s Tomb and the Brygos Tomb. The latter was unearthed in 1870s by Simmaco
Doria in the Quattro Santi necropolis, along the road leading from Santa Maria Capua
73 A good account is offered by F. Sirano (2014b).

74 Sampaolo 2008; 2011b; Regis 2011.
75 Allegro 1984; N. Allegro, in Allegro et al. 1995, 37; E. Santaniello, in Allegro and Santaniello 2008;
Minoja 2011.
76 N. Allegro, in Allegro et al. 1995, 37.
77 Allegro 1984; CIE 8629–8676.
79 Martelli 2006; Greco, Castaldo and Ciardiello 2008; Ciardiello 2011. As for the imagery, recent
researches have shown the popularity of some religious themes, such as the Eleusinian mysteries:
Rendeli 1993.
80 This subject has been studied by E. Thiermann (2012).

Fig. 74.4: Capua: plan of the archaic buildings found in the ‘Siepone’ area (courtesy V. Sampaolo)
Vetere to the Tifata Mount.81 It included half a dozen of exceptional Attic red-figured
vases, among which stand out a skyphos signed by the potter Hieron and attributed
to the painter Makron. It also included a kylix attributed to Brygos.82 The complex has
been interpreted by Dyfri Williams as the tomb of an Athenian buried at Capua,83 but
Luca Cerchiai is probably right in arguing that the tomb reflects an ideological system
of the local aristocracy, which seems proper.84 Recently, Sabrina Batino speculated
about the social identity of the deceased and tried to demonstrate that he was a young
Capuan hippeus dead before reaching adulthood.85
The tomb containing the famed Lebete Barone was unearthed in 1847 in the
village of Sant’Erasmo. Associated with the bronze vase were at least two Attic figure-
81 On the topography of Capua’s archaic necropolis, and in particular on the northern side of it, see
Benassai 2011 and Castaldo 2011.
82 Beazley 1956; De La Genière 2002.
83 Williams 1992.
84 Cerchiai 1997a.
85 Batino 2002.

vases, a red-figure kylix attributed to Euergides, and a black-figure Panathenaic type

amphora painted by the Diosphos Painter. It has been argued that this association
of the bronze lebes and the Attic black-figure amphora of the (pseudo-)Panathenaic
type occurs frequently at Capua and is particularly meaningful, because it refers to
the values of the athletics.86
As for monumental art, it is worth mentioning the only Archaic painted tomb
ever found at Capua. The painting, which depicts a scene of table-game (draughts),
is dated to around 470.87 The rare iconographic subject might refer to the urban reor-
ganization of Capua, which is alluded by the old Cato’s sentence reported by Vel-
leius (1.7). It is probably at this time that the city’s oligarchic elite selected a new city
name—Volturnum—to reinforce and legitimize the political order.88
4 Sanctuaries: the Fondo Patturelli

Although the sanctuary of Diana Tifatina, on the slopes of Tifata Mount, seems to have
been the most important sanctuary of ancient Capua according to ancient authors,89
there is not the slightest doubt that our knowledge of Archaic Capua’s sanctuaries is
essentially based on the overwhelming archaeological evidence from the Fondo Pat-
turelli area.90 This sacred area, located on the east side of the ancient settlement, in
the modern village of Curti, has yielded a huge quantity of architectural and votive
terracottas. Besides the votive materials,91 the so-called matres matutae, massive
statues carved in the local tufa representing seated women with children on their laps
stand out from the other anonymous ex-votos (Fig. 74.5).92 The iconography raises the
question of whether the women are goddesses or humans. Whatever the case, their
characterization as kourothrophoi suggests that the cult was devoted to a goddess
protecting women and the sphere of birth. A possible candidate would be Uni, an
important goddess of the Etruscan pantheon corresponding to Iuno/Hera, mentioned
also in the so called Tabula Capuana (Fig. 35.6),93 a ritual calendar inscribed on a ter-
racotta tile that was discovered in the nineteenth century (see Section 5). Some schol-
86 Castaldo 2011.
87 Cerchiai 1995, 186–7, pl. XXX,1, with previous literature.
88 Cerchiai 2010a, 99–101. The problem of the multiple names of the city has been recently discussed
by Minoja 2012.
89 De Franciscis 1956. For a general overview of Campanian sanctuaries, and in particular to the
Capuan ones, see Cristofani 1995; 1998; Minoja and Grassi 1996; Carafa 2008; Cerchiai 2011.
90 Cf. von Duhn 1876; Grassi and Sampaolo 2006; Minoja 2006b; Sampaolo 2011a; Poccetti and
Sampaolo 2014; an interesting history of discovery is offered by Crawford 2009.
91 Migliore 2007, 2011a and 2011b.
92 Adriani 1939; De Caro et al. 1988; Haase 2010.
93 Cristofani 1995.

Fig. 74.5: Capua: Stone statue of seated woman.

Capua, Museo Provinciale Campano
(after Italia omnium terrarium alumna, Milan 1989)
ars think that due to the proximity of the sanctuary to a cemetery, a goddess like a
funerary Aphrodite is more appropriate.94 Recent excavations have, however, demon-
strated that there was no close relationship between the sanctuary and the cemetery
before Roman times.95 Moreover, there is no proof that the Tabula Capuana was found
in the area of Fondo Patturelli. On the contrary, the contemporary archival documents
studied by Mauro Cristofani96 suggest that it was discovered at Quattordici Ponti.
In order to determine the cult—or, to a lesser degree, the cult typology—in addi-
tion to the matres matutae, we must rely mainly on the thousands of terracotta ex-
94 Coarelli 1995.
95 Crawford 2009; Minoja 2011; Sampaolo 2011a and 2011b.
96 Cristofani 1995, 13–21.

Fig. 74.6: Capua: Antefix decorated with female head.

Capua, Museo Provinciale Campano
(after Johannowsky 1989)
votos scattered in the area, on the later Italic (Oscan) inscriptions known as iovilai97
and the defictiones written in the same language coming from the sanctuary area.98
Alessia Ventriglia has recently stressed the importance of Vei, the Etruscan
Demeter, within the pantheon of the Fondo Patturelli, which probably also includes
other goddesses, like Uni.99
In addition to this evidence, of great importance for determining the Fondo Pat-
turelli cult are also particular objects coming from the favissae of the sanctuary, like
the terracotta relief recently published by Barbara Grassi,100 and the “magic” clay
disk displaying various symbols in low relief on the recto studied by Lidia Falcone,101
which shows signs of syncretistic tendencies.
It seems likely that throughout its life, the sanctuary hosted different shrines and
several sacred buildings decorated with architectural terracottas of different style and
size, which suggest that the sacred area included a sort of lucus scattered with small
aedicules which were, perhaps, managed by different families.102 The huge quantity
of decorative terracottas discovered in the Fondo Patturelli needs a brief supplemen-
97 Franchi De Bellis 1981.

98 Poccetti 1998.
99 Ventriglia 2011.
100 Grassi 2011.
101 Falcone 2010; 2011.
102 Rescigno 2009.

tary comment. In the sanctuary have been brought to light hundreds of architectural
Campanian-type terracottas. They form an unique data-set which allows us to iden-
tify the revetment system adopted by the habitants of Capua for the roofs of their
main temples.103 The standard Campanian system includes a characteristic type of
head-antefixes encircled by a shell of tongues with molded edges (nimbus) (Fig. 74.6).
The origin of this roofing system has been long disputed, and an east-Greek influence
via Velia has been argued by different scholars104 to explain the regional distribu-
tion of the Campanian-type antefix. However, as has been demonstrated,105 it is more
likely that the system was created in the western Greek milieu of the Bay of Naples,
from where it later spread to the Etruscan mesogaia (Capua), and where it was further
developed and transmitted both to the north and the south.106 Capua might indeed
be considered the center of diffusion of a system that was originally elaborated in
the Cumae/Pithekoussai district. It gives birth to an interesting phenomenon of cul-
tural and artistic koiné, which, according to some scholars, even affects the politic
sphere.107 Capua’s influence would have reached Minturno to the north and Fratte
to the south, drawing the boundaries of a sphere of influence that would greatly
overpass the limits of the alleged Etrusco-Campanian league mentioned by Strabo in
Roman times (see Introduction).
5 Campanian black-figure vases, bronze dinoi

and terracotta appliques
According to Johannowsky, the Archaic Period is the most original period of Capua’s
history in terms of its artistic production.108 Scholars have identified several local
workshops operating in the tradition of Attic and Etruscan black-figure vases.109 The
massive output of these workshops includes mainly tableware, including small neck-
amphorae (Fig. 74.7), hydriae and colonnette-kraters, and open Greek-type shapes
(stem and stemless kylikes, and mastoid cups). As for iconography, recent studies
have demonstrated that the images depicted on these vases can be divided into
103 Koch 1912; Riis 1981; Winter 1986; Bonghi Jovino 1993; Rescigno 1998; Aversa 1999; Grassi and
Sampaolo 2006.
104 Johannowsky 1983, 74–9; 1989, 46; Heurgon 1986.
105 Rescigno 1998.
106 Lulof 2006.
107 d’Agostino 1996. See also Edlund 1987, 134, who considers Marica’s sanctuary at the mouth of the
Garigliano River as the epineion of Etruscan Capua.
109 Parise Badoni 1968; Falcone and Ibelli 2007, 49–78; Bellelli 2009, 123–28.

Fig. 74.7: Campanian black-figure amphora.

Siena, Archaeological Museum (Photo SAT)
two different groups: one that refers to the male sphere, the other to the female.110
Some items, furthermore, seem to give a lot of importance to cult scenes where play
an important role the representations of rites that happen near altars and altar-like
buildings.111
Campanian workshops were also famed in the Archaic Period for the selected
production of a class of elegant bronze vases equipped with lids and decorated with
small sculptures cast in the round (Fig. 74.8).112 They are large lebetes (or, accord-
ing to another denomination, dinoi), which were exclusively used as ash-urns in the
cubo tombs, attested in Etruscanized Campania since the seventh century.113 Outside
Capua, specimens are recorded from Cumae, Calatia and Suessula, but surprisingly,
two items seem to have reached also central Italy114 and perhaps the remote modern-
day Germany.115
110 Falcone and Ibelli 2007; Bellelli 2009.

111 V. Ibelli, in Falcone and Ibelli 2007.
112 Benassai 1995; Cammarota 2011, with literature.
113 Cerchiai 1998; d’Agostino 2003; Minoja 2010.
114 Benassai 2002.
115 Guggisberg 2005.

Fig. 74.8: Campanian bronze dinos. Berlin,

Antikensammlung (after Kästner 2010)
Fig. 74.9: Capua: terracotta appliqués. Santa Maria Capua Vetere, Archaeological Museum

The decoration of these elegant vases was generally confined to the lid, but there
is one relevant exception: the “Lebete Barone”, dating to the late sixth century, which
displays an interesting incised frieze focusing on Herakles’ dodekathlon on its belly.116
Finally, we mention the interesting series of Capuan terracotta appliques
(Fig. 74.9), which complete the picture of late Archaic local production. According to
Fernando Gilotta, they are the result of a strong Greek influence coming from Pelo-
ponnese and East Greece via Magna Graecia.117
6 Written documents and the language

Hundreds of Etruscan inscriptions have been found throughout northern Campania
suggesting that Etruscan was largely spoken by the native populations.118 The bulk of
the corpus is represented by short texts incised in the bottom of Attic imports (mostly
stemless cups)119 found at Capua, Suessula, Calatia, Nola and Avella. As a rule, these
texts are brief sentences simply mentioning the owner’s name and sometimes the
name of the vase-shape.120 The onomasticon includes a lot of Italic names, as is to be
expected in a frontier area like northern Campania,121 a region in which—according
to the picture drawn in the ancient written sources—different peoples lived together
side by side since protohistory (see Introduction). Within the corpus one can also find
abecedaries, like the painted one on a Nolan situla dating to the first half of the fifth
century;122 other rare examples are datable to the sixth. A recent study has drawn
attention to a class of stamnoid ollae with painted decorations dating to the sixth
century that were probably manufactured at Capua and which sometimes carry short
Etruscan painted inscriptions.123
The Tabula Capuana is one of the major extant Etruscan texts (Fig. 35.5).124 It is
an archival document originally hosted in a sanctuary. The long text is incised on
the surface of a pan tile that is almost entirely preserved. The text is divided into ten
sections with religious prescriptions that mention several gods of the Etruscan pan-
116 For the interpretation of the giant as Alcioneus or Cacus: Benassai 1997; Cerchiai 2006 and 2010a.
117 Visone 2001; Gilotta 2006; 2013.
118 CIE; de Simone 1992; Pellegrino 2013b; Bellelli 2014.
119 For the “Castulo”-type cups see in particular Shefton 1996.
120 Vetter 1939.
121 Marchesini 1996.
122 CIE 8730.
123 Mazzocchi 2011. One of them has been brought to light in the Greek settlement of Pithekoussai,
where—according to a complicate conjecture—it would have arrived as a gift of a Capuan aristocrat to
an aristos from Cumae taking refuge on Pithekoussai: Mazzocchi 2011, 69.
124 Cristofani 1995, with literature. A short synthesis in Bellelli 2014.

theon. Particular importance is accorded to Lethams, a god also mentioned in the

Piacenza liver. The monument is to be dated to the second quarter of the fifth century.
The Etruscan inscriptions from northern Campania show some original features
from the epigraphic point of view, such as the use of a butterfly to mark the palato-
alveolar sibilant. The Etruscan corpus of Nola also shows some interesting relation-
ships with the Faliscan milieu regarding the rendering of the sound “F” by means of
an “arrow” sign.125
It is worth noting the late chronology of these Etruscan inscriptions from northern
Campania, and comparing them to those from Pontecagnano, which date to the mid
seventh century.126 One wonders whether this discrepancy depends upon a real dif-
ference in the acquaintance with the Etruscan writing-system between northern and
southern Campania, or on an accidental pattern of chronological distribution of the
evidence. The lack of evidence in northern Campania had in the recent past seemed
an inexplicable phenomenon due to the proximity of Greek Cumae, the city which
taught the Etruscans of Etruria writing at the beginning of the seventh century.127
The late and anomalous spread of Etruscan writing system throughout northern
Campania is a phenomenon that calls for an explanation. The late chronology of the
corpus of Etruscan inscriptions found in the area under Capua’s cultural influence
has been claimed in the recent past128 as an explanation for the so-called “second
Etruscan colonization”—that is, the alleged migration that would have taken place
after the first battle at Cumae. According to this point of view, new groups of Etruscan
people coming from southern Etruria would have reached the Terra di Lavoro in the
second part of sixth century, giving birth to a new foundation of the capital of the
region, Capua. The inscriptions would represent one of the effects of their arrival, and
the sign of a political and cultural prominence throughout the whole region.129 This
hypothesis adequately explained two related facts without forcing the archaeologi-
cal evidence: the late chronology of these epigraphic documents, and the absence of
similar evidence from previous periods, namely the Orientalizing Period.
In addition to this, it is worth noting the high number of abecedaries among the
Etruscan corpus of northern Campania and the systematic adoption—even in shorter
texts—of the so-called syllabic punctuation (see chapter 17 Benelli). It is generally
accepted that the occurrence of these two related facts usually marks the start of the
cultural phenomenon of the spread of writing.130
125 Bellelli 2002b.
126 Pellegrino and Colonna 2002.
127 See the considerations in Bellelli 2006, 116.
128 Rix 1992.
129 See for instance the reconstruction of Ventriglia 2006.
130 Agostiniani 1992, 46–7.

On the other hand, according to some scholars, the sudden and large diffusion
of Etruscan inscriptions throughout northern Campania in the late Archaic Period
would only be a sign of the ripening of the ethnic self-consciousness of the region’s
Etruscan elite in the age of Cumae’s tyrant Aristodemos.131 Therefore, there wouldn’t
have been a second Etruscan colonization in Campania,132 but a phenomenon of
rediscovery of their own ethnic identity by the Etruscans of Campania. From this per-
spective, it would just be a coincidence that the large Etruscan-speaking population
of northern Campania hadn’t written anything remarkable for such a long time.
While the former interpretation is based on an argumentum ex silentio, the latter
emphasizes the fortuitousness of discovery. Neither of the two explanations is fully
convincing and it seems therefore wiser to postpone judgment and wait for new dis-
coveries.
Whatever kind of explanatory model we adopt for this phenomenon, we can be
certain that northern Campania was a frontier world where two peoples—Etruscans
and Opikoi—lived together in the same settlements. A group of written texts classi-
fied as Paleo-Italic133 suggest that the Italic component of the population used the
writing in a competitive manner as to Etruscan.134 One of these Paleo-Italic inscrip-
tions is incised on the mouth of a Vulcian bronze stamnos, which shows that among
Capua’s urban community, since the beginning of the fifth century, there was a Sabel-
lic-speaking elite.135
7 The final chapter of Etruscan Capua’s history

According to Livy (4.37.1–2) and Diodorus Siculus (12.31), Capua was captured by the
Campanians in 423. The conquest would have preceded by only two years the vic-
torious entry of the Campanians to Cumae, and Neaples would have been the only
city of this northern Campanian district not to be conquered by force. Livy, our main
ancient source for these historical events,136 describes the seizure of the Etruscan
Capua as a phenomenon of social contrast between the urban population and the
country people, which resulted in the rebellion of the latter against the former.137 This
event also led to the replacement of the Etruscan city name, Volturnum, with the Italic
131 Cerchiai 2008, 408–13; 2010a, 99–101; Gobbi 2012, 92–4.

132 Cerchiai 2008; Gobbi 2012.
133 Cristofani 1993 (= Cristofani 2001, vol. III, 1177–1184).
134 On this problem, see in general Rix 2005.
135 Colonna 1991, 61.
136 Cornell 1974.

name, Capua.138 When considered in relation to recent archaeological discoveries,

Livy’s account seems a little imprecise, for it has been convincingly argued by Valeria
Sampaolo that the “Samnitization” of the region was a phenomenon starting as early
as the beginning of the fifth century.139 Thus the abandonment of the site of Alveo
Marotta, to the east of the ancient city, wouldn’t be the result of an ongoing process of
urbanization leading to the fusion of various pagi140 but the upshot of the Campanian
military advance from east to west.
During the fifth and fourth centuries, Capua continued to be the center of the
region’s cultural development and expressed its originality by developing an impor-
tant artistic tradition in vase and wall painting.141 In 338, it was finally romanized and
obtained the civitas sine suffragio.
8 The northern part of “Terra di Lavoro”:

Cales and Teano
As noted in the Introduction, the ancient sources distinguish an Ausonian district in
northern Campania, the main centers of which were probably Cales and Teano.142 As
Johannowsky suggested, the local communities living in this area shared the use of
characteristic tableware with the people of the Liri Valley. This was the so-called red
bucchero, a ware coated with a red slip vaguely resembling the Etruscan black buc-
chero.
Thanks to recent research, it is now possible to trace the history of this vast region
crossed both longitudinally and transversally by important axes of communication
that linked Latium to the northern part of Campania directly.143 Furthermore, three
important rivers flowing from east to west—the Garigliano, the Savone and the Vol-
turno—represent important regional landmarks. Not by chance did local people
found two important sanctuaries in this frontier area, one at the mouth of the Garigli-
ano River and another at the mouth of the Savone. The former had a temple with a
roof decorated in the Campanian “manner.”144 Of the latter only a small part of the
votive deposits are known.145
138 Colonna 1991, 61–2; Cristofani 1995, 103–4; Cerchiai 1995, 184–90; Bellelli 2006, 120–21; Cerchiai
2008, 410–11; Minoja 2011, 20–21.
139 Sampaolo 2008.
140 Allegro 1984.
141 Benassai 2001.
142 Gasperetti, Passaro and De Caro 1999; Chiesa 2011.
143 Sirano 2005 and 2007a.
144 Rescigno 1993.
145 Talamo 1987.

From the Garigliano sanctuary came also the famed Paleo-Italic inscription pub-
lished by M. Cristofani, which clearly indicates that the cultural identity of this com-
pound referred to the Ausones/Aurunci mentioned in the literary sources.146
Teano was the main urban center of the upper part of the Terra di Lavoro. The set-
tlement was probably occupied since the Iron Age, as is suggested by a group of clay
vases without specific provenance, which show interesting elements of comparison
with the Tiber Valley region and southern Italy, particularly the Daunia.147 During the
Archaic age, the community invested a lot of resources building sanctuaries equipped
with monumental buildings. In two of them, in Loreto and Fondo Ruozzo, important
evidence of the anathemata and the cult statues dating at the earliest to the end of the
sixth century have come to light.148 Among them one can find clay statues represent-
ing kourophoroi, women carrying children on their shoulders, and cult statues of the
goddess worshipped Popluna wearing a tall polos a busta (Fig. 74.20).149
Cales was an indigenous settlement to the north of Capua. Archaeological exca-
vations undertaken in the Migliaro necropolis have revealed a rich archaeological
facies corresponding to the Orientalizing Period150 that offers several elements of
comparison, not only with the Opician hinterland of northern and central Campania,
but also with the Latial and Etruscan cultures on the one hand, and the Sarno Valley
Fossakultur on the other. In the choice of vase-shapes, the local ceramic repertoire
is indeed a hybrid; especially in the case of the table-amphorae we find side by side
both shapes attested in the Hernic area and in the Sarno Valley.151
A rather exceptional context dating to the late Orientalizing Period is tomb 1.152 It
is a male inhumation with very rich equipment, comprising a set of Etruscan buccheri
and Etrusco-Corinthian vases imported from Caere, which compelled M. Frederiksen
to propose that the owner of the tomb was an Etruscan warrior buried with all his
weapons and vessels.153
The corredo of tomb 1 also includes an Etruscan transport amphora and an oino-
choe of local craftsmanship decorated with painted circles on the body,154 which
belongs to a class of Greek-type vases whose origin is still disputed.155 The high con-
146 Cristofani 1996.
147 Sirano 2007a.
148 Sirano 2007b.
149 Sirano 2011.
150 Passaro and Ciaccia 1996; Gilotta and Passaro 2012.
151 Gilotta 2008.
152 Chiesa 1993.
153 Frederiksen 1979, 298.
154 Chiesa 1993, 52–3, pls. XXIV, XLVII.
155 Gilotta 2008.

centration of the vases of this production in the area around the centers of Suessula
and Capua156 indicates perhaps that we are facing a production enhanced in loco.
9 The sites of the mesogaia: Suessula, Calatia, Nola,

Avella
Apart from Capua, which was the main center of the Campanian dodecapolis (Polyb.
2.17; Strabo 5.4.3), almost all the urban centers encircling the Mount Vesuvius can
be considered Etruscan foundations or Etruscanized indigenous cities. From both
the former and the latter have come to light vases equipped with Etruscan inscrip-
tions, which suggest that the entire hinterland was under strong political and cultural
Etruscan domination.157
Calatia, a small city in the Campanian hinterland, today in province of Caserta,
southeast of Capua, shows a strong Etruscan influence. We know very little about the
ancient center, which corresponds to the modern town of Maddaloni. The ancient set-
tlement appears encircled by walls built in the Republican period; it is flanked both
to the east and the west by two large cemeteries in use from the ancient Orientalizing
period onward.158
One of the most important Orientalizing graves of the Calatia necropolis is Tomb
201. Besides the local impasto vases, it contained a group of Greek vases of Proto-
Corinthian type and a ribbed bronze bowl.159
The rich documentation dating to the seventh century and in particular to the late
Orientalizing period (630/20–580) allows us to draw the picture of a flourishing small
community of the Campanian mesogaia—highly representative of the local Fossakul-
tur—as it progressively entered into the orbit of the cultural influence of Etruscan
Capua.160 The predominant rite is the inhumation in big “fossa;” cremation is very
rare. The corpse of the dead is surrounded by a huge quantity of clay vases (drinking-
and storage-vessels), placed around the head and along the sides of the body. As a
rule, a large impasto container is placed at the foot of the dead, to indicate the clan’s
prosperity. The most representative contexts in this period include imported vases
of Corinthian fabric,161 which appear in the tombs along with local Corinthian-style
imitations. Tomb 296 (Fig. 74.10) is a rare fossa-grave equipped with a small reposi-
156 Mingazzini 1969; Borriello 1991 and 2003.

157 Colonna 1991; d’Agostino 1996; 2001, 245.
158 Laforgia 2009.
159 Albore Livadie 1989; M.R. Borriello, in Nava and Salerno 2007, 198–200; d’Agostino 2011b, 76–7.
160 See Ferrante 2006 and 2007.
161 Bellelli 2003a.

Fig. 74.10: Calatia: vases from tomb 296. Calatia, Archaeological Museum (after Laforgia 1996a)
tory made out beneath the plan of the fossa. This rare grave typology has forerunners
dating to the Iron Age, both in the local repertoire and in the Capua milieu.162
Calatia’s tombs have so far yielded a huge number of genuine Etrusco-Corinthian
vases, both drinking-vessels and perfume-flasks, which date to the first half of the
sixth century. Among these, one can find products of the workshops of Caere and
Vulci, including kylikes of the Human Mask Group and alabastra of the confronted
cocks group.163 The most ancient Etrusco-Corinthian vases found at Calatia are a rare
couple of aryballoi in black-polychrome style, attributable to the workshop of the Cas-
162 As for the burial contents, the cemeteries of Calatia are known mainly through the wide selection
of the rich Orientalizing and Archaic tombs unearthed in recent years by E. Laforgia: Laforgia 1996a;
2003; 2009; 2011.
163 Bellelli 2003b.

tellani painter. They have been considered the introductory gift of an Etruscan trader
to a local aristocrat.164
Suessula is one of the main indigenous settlements of northern Campania. The
site was extensively excavated in the eighteenth century, and the majority of objects
recovered in that time now form the rich Spinelli collection housed in the Archae-
ological Museum of Naples.165 It includes hundreds of locally-crafted impasto and
Italo-Corinthian vases.166 A necropolis has recently been excavated in Piazza Vecchia
by Elena Laforgia.167 From Suessula and Capua also come several giant bronze fibulae
with exuberant plastic decorations applied to the disk, which date to the middle of
the eight century (Fig. 74.11).168 Even though a recent hypothesis169 claims a possible
Cumaean origin for this class of fibulae, it is more likely that these products were
manufactured locally.
Nola was located at the core of Campanian mesogaia, along the “Etruscan” belt
of settlements behind Mount Vesuvius.170 The city is described as Etruscan in the late
literary sources (Velleius 1.7), but Hecataeus of Miletus mentions it as a polis Ausonon
(FGrH 1 F 61 = 69 Nenci). According to Strabo (5.4.8), the whole Campanian hinter-
land, including Nola, Nocera and Acerrae, had its epineion at Pompeii. The Etruscan
ethnic noun Nulathe171 indicates that the name of the city during the Etruscan domi-
nation was probably Nula. The most ancient archaeological record from Nola dates to
the second half of the eighth century.172
The predominant funerary rite is inhumation. The richest tombs of the Orien-
talizing period—112, 308 and 98—from the Torricelle necropolis (third quarter of the
eighth–mid seventh centuries) were rich in amber ornaments.173 The Orientalizing
and Archaic cemeteries of the city174 show that the material culture of Nola belongs to
the Fossakultur. Some tombs contained remarkable importations of Corinthian, Attic
164 Frère 2008.
165 History of research in Ferone 2008. A small group of materials is housed in Rome in the Museo
Nazionale Preistorico Etnografico Luigi Pigorini (Mangani 2011). For recent research on the field see
Giampaola and Rossi 2011.
166 Borriello 1991 and 2003.
167 Laforgia 1996b.
168 Johannowsky 1983, 50–52; 1989, 41. See also Aigner Foresti 1986.
169 Cerchiai 2002.
170 La Rocca and Angelillo 1971.
172 Cerchiai and Salvadori 2013.
173 L. Vecchio, in Nava and Salerno 2007, 189–95.
174 Bonghi Jovino and Donceel 1969; Lezzi-Hafter, Isler-Kerényi and Donceel 1980.

Fig. 74.11: Capua: Bronze fibula with appliqués, Santa Maria Capua Vetere, Archaeological Museum
(after Bonghi Jovino 2000)
and Etrusco-Corinthian styles.175 Recent studies have shown that the aristocratic rite
of incineration inside the krater is also attested at Nola.176
Some of the most remarkable Campanian Etruscan inscriptions have been found
at Nola.177 The texts seem not to be from earlier than the second half of the sixth
century, which shows a strong parallel with the Capuan situation. The vase-shapes
more often inscribed at Nola are stemless Attic kylikes; some inscriptions are to be
interpreted as Paleo-Italic texts denoting the existence of a mixed population.178
We have very little information about the ancient settlement of Nola.179 Although
there is no evidence regarding the Archaic architecture, we know about the existence
of architectural terracottas of the so-called Campanian type.180
175 For Etrusco-Corinthian imports, in particular, see Bellelli 2003b. M. Cesarano (2007) has studied
an interesting type of Etrusco-Corinthian bottle, so far attested principally at Nola.
176 Cesarano 2011.
177 CIE 8728–8746. Bellelli 2002b.
178 Cristofani 1993.
179 Sampaolo 1985.
180 Rescigno 1998, 300–3, pl. XXIX: 3–4.

Avella is an important Opician settlement on the left side of the Clanis River, at
the foot of the hills that encircle the Campanian plain.181 The urban center was set up
at the end of the eighth century, and was surrounded by two large cemetery areas in
the villages of S. Nazzaro to the west and S. Paolino to the east. During the first half
of the seventh century, the community of Avella showed no signs of frequent exter-
nal contacts, and the only imports found in the tombs of this period are some Italo-
Geometric vases of colonial production. It is likely that the Greek colony of Cumae was
also the intermediate source of the rare Kreis- und Wellenband aryballos found in a
tomb.182 The tombs of the late Orientalizing and Archaic periods show a greater quan-
tity of imports. Some rich funerary complexes that date to the sixth century include,
for instance, both clay and bronze vases imported from Greece and Etruria. Tomb
nr. 1/1995B contained a bronze Löwenkanne, similar to those discovered at Capua, and
a bronze infundibulum of Etruscan craftsmanship.183
Besides Capua, Gricignano, Suessula, Calatia and Nola, short Etruscan inscrip-
tions have recently been found at Avella.184 The most important inscription is incised
on an Attic black-glazed kylix with concave lip, which dates to the second quarter of
the fifth century. It recalls the name of the Campanian gens of the Calavii.185
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Central and Northern Italy

Luigi Malnati
75 Emilia
Abstract: Unlike in Etruria proper during the centuries commonly referred to as the Late Bronze
Age, in Emilia, there has been no success in gathering sure signs of the presence of protovillanovan
culture. At the beginning of the Iron Age, the area of the high plateau between the Idice and the Reno
was occupied, and later even beyond the Panaro to the west and the Santerno to the east. There were
villages—some of them as large as several hectares—with necropolises of cremations in the character-
istic biconical vases assignable to the Villanovan culture (for Villanova di Castenaso, near Bologna,
where they were first excavated). The founding of Felsina (present-day Bologna) dates to the begin-
ning of the eighth century BCE, and is documented especially in necropolises, which especially in the
last quarter of the eighth century took on a monumental character, when Felsina assumed political
control over a wide territory from Panaro in the west to Santerno in the east and ruled the plain as
far as the Po. The beginning of the sixth century saw a major break at Bologna/Felsina and in Emilia,
where new settlements were founded, such as Marzabotto and Spina, which flourished particularly
in the fifth century. The invasions of the Celts in the fourth century disrupted this arrangement of the
population.
Keywords: Etruria padana, Felsina, Marzabotto, Spina, Celts
1 The origins
Unlike in Etruria proper during the centuries commonly referred to as the Late Bronze
Age, in Emilia, there has been no success in gathering sure signs of the presence of
protovillanovan culture, with the exception of the necropolis brought to light at various
times during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries at Campo Pianelli di Bismantova,
on the Appennino Reggiano. The topographic positioning of this discovery—in a stra-
tegic position below a cliff of the same name, astride the two valleys of the Secchia and
the Panaro—indicates that during this period and at least as late as the tenth century
BCE, the lines of communication that linked the Tyrrhenian region and the maritime
district of upper Tuscany and the Po (where the protourban level center of Frattesina
di Fratta Polesine was active, with its district that extended at least as far as the area
of Mantua) were considered crucial. A second route is attested by a few unsystematic
finds along the valley of the Reno, while much farther to the west the road that led from
Lunigiana to Piacentino and on to the Po was certainly well traveled.
With the beginning of the ninth century, there was a systematic occupation of the
entire upper lowland between the Idice and the Reno, and by the end of the century
it had quickly spread beyond the Panaro to the west and the Santerno to the east.
This involved villages that covered several hectares, with necropolises for cremations
in characteristic biconical vessels that are easily assigned to the Villanovan culture
(typical of Villanova di Castenaso, near Bologna, where they were first excavated) –
that is, in the earliest period of Etruscan civilization.
1438 Luigi Malnati
Fig. 75.1: Map of Emilia
Among the many villages mentioned in the area, three have been investigated more
extensively. One is found on the northeastern edge of Bologna, between San Vitale
and the Savena road, where early in the twentieth century, the necropolises and
edges of the hamlet were dug, and also recently intercepted. Another hamlet with an
associated necropolis was excavated in the second half of the century at Castenaso.
Finally, over the last twenty years, a large village with an associated necropolis north
of Bologna, in the Fiera area, has been intensively investigated.
The excavation of the hamlet of Fiera, which was already unsystematically
explored in the 1970s, has been resumed several times in the last few years. It can
thus be said that the village covered about a hectare, surrounded by a rampart and a
moat. It was rectangular and oriented strictly north-south. The northern necropolis
has also been investigated, although not completely, with more than 1,300 burials. It
can, however, be concluded that this village, like others (ramparts and moats are also
featured at San Vitale and Castelfranco Emilia), responds to political and religious
planning and thus to an organizational scheme that necessitated a strong central
power (Fig. 75.1).
It is hard not to correlate this new archaeological situation of central Emilia with
the ancient sources, specifically Livy and Servius, who note how the cities of the
Etruscan Po plain were the result of a process of colonization promoted from Etruria
proper. In particular, the instigator of these new foundations was supposed to be
Tarchon, son or brother (in different versions of the story) of Tyrrhenus, the epony-
mous mythic hero, who was supposed to have led the Etruscans into Italy from Lydia.

75 Emilia 1439
The necropolises, which are by now very well documented, were for the earli-
est period used almost exclusively for cremations with very simple grave goods. The
biconical urn, which follows the traditional typology of the Villanovan culture, was
created specifically for burials. It has a single handle, or else it was rendered useless
by having had one of the two handles broken off; it was decorated with engravings
or with the technique of “falsa cordicella” with geometric motifs for the most part in
wavy or serrated lines, or metope-like squares. They were covered with a one-handled
lid and occasionally accompanied by a cluster of ceramics; bronze clothing acces-
sories and personal ornaments were deposited either in the urn, often deformed by
the heat of the pyre, or outside it. In general, the funerary evidence that has survived
reveals a social landscape displaying little differentiation, based on family structures
that were not yet organized into real gentes.
Some burials, however, differ from the others especially because they contain
certain highly symbolic objects, such as scepters, which were found in at least two
men’s tombs—182 in San Vitale, and 382 in Fiera. In all probability, these are burials
of community leaders, while other signs of prestige in men’s tombs—such as arms,
which are very rare in Emilia, not only in this period—indicate the heads of the prin-
cipal family clans who are distinguished by valor in war. Besides, the distinction
between male and female burials is assured for males by the presence of razors and
pins for fastening clothes, and for females by spindle whorls and bow-shaped fibulae
with a slight swell.
At the same time as the Villanovan culture was developing, the settlement of Frat-
tesina was being abandoned, which was certainly not a coincidence; it seems likely
that the Etruscan penetration north of the Apennines and the assertion of the Venetic
civilization on the Adige stressed and subsequently destroyed the political center of
the Polesine that had prevailed during the Late Bronze Age.1
2 The founding of Felsina

At the beginning of the eighth century, the opening of the necropolis in the Benacci
land—just west of the Ravone stream in the historic heart of present-day Bologna—
indicates that a village was established nearby, probably alongside an early core
whose remains have been identified at Villa Cassarini, on the last hillside overlooking
the city on the south. The first burials in the Benacci necropolis, from the first half
of the eighth century, do not seem to differ greatly from those of the contemporane-
ous necropolises of the region. In the middle of the eighth century, a transformation
began that involved all the villages around Bologna and led to the founding of Felsina
1 The most recent and broadest account of the subjects remains Malnati and Manfredi 2003.

1440 Luigi Malnati
in a few decades. This foundation took place by a process of synoecism on the part of
the inhabitants of the villages including Reno in the west, Idice in the east, the outly-
ing hillsides in the south, and a line of villages in the north that runs between Fiera
and the present locale of Castenaso. This was a highly deliberate activity on the part
of a centralized political power that enfolded all the gentilic elites who had mean-
while asserted themselves into a single community.
In fact, all the villages known in the area appear to have gone out of existence
toward the end of the eighth century, based on information from the necropolises,
and from excavations in settled areas. This holds for the villages near the gate of San
Vitale, near Fiera, and those recently identified near the northeast gate of Bologna,
at the Battistini barracks, and other settlements to the northwest, near the new uni-
versity district and at Borgo Panigale. That the inhabitants of these villages streamed
into the newly founded city is confirmed by the fact that, at least in the cases of San
Vitale and Fiera, a fairly small group of burials including some prominent tombs, is
still attested in the necropolises of the two villages through the end of the century.
It is possible that these burials belonged to more prominent gentilic families in the
community, who maintained their own funerary traditions in accordance with their
ancestral location, and from the religious point of view as well.
The foundation of the city has been proven archeologically by the recent exca-
vations—in Piazza Azzarita and Piazza VIII Agosto—of structures that can be attrib-
uted to impressive fortifications of the northern boundary of Felsina, which was not
determined by natural features and was exposed to attacks from potential external
enemies.
It was a defensive system comprising palisades, earthen ramparts, and moats. In
connection with the foundation of the ramparts, a four-handled vase for ritual use
has been found and dated to the second half of the eighth century. In the same period,
the western necropolis, on the Benacci and Benacci-Caprara land, was enriched with
some of the most remarkable burials, such as Benacci-Caprara No. 39. This yielded
a bronze cinerary urn with a rich set of warrior’s equipment, including a sword and
horse bits. Other burial grounds were arrayed to the north (houses of Fabbri, Arena del
Sole) and east (Piazza della Mercanzia, Pepoli Palace). The burial grounds were thus
arranged in a circle around the city and according to a variety of calculations, delimit
it at between 150 and 200 ha. In the area between the southern hills, a line placed
slightly south of Piazza VIII Agosto, west of the Aposa, and east of the Vallescura (or
Ravone) stream, the inhabitants of the villages, who had settled nearby during the
Early Iron Age, would gather according to a careful political plan. Presumably in the
early phase, the urban organization was not yet highly structured, with groups of
buildings constructed on stakes with unbaked clay walls interspersed with free areas
used for growing vegetables or keeping domestic animals. Each tribal group probably
maintained its own identity and burial ground. The presence of raised burials, in the
middle of a group of tombs on a lower level, seems to identify gentilic groups. To this
period can also be attributed the first funerary stelae—one at the Benacci-Caprara

75 Emilia 1441
burial ground and another at the Pepoli Palace’s. Both stelae appear to depict the
deceased as a warrior associated with solar symbols, on a two-wheeled chariot with
a pair of horses and a four-wheeled chariot respectively. It remains, then, to identify
the gender of the deceased according to the associated articles of clothing, and to
characterize the military activities of the men and the spinning or weaving by the
women. The deposition of banquet tableware and funerary offerings characterizes
the richest burials.
While Felsina was making its name in the territory, sufficiently distant from the
proto-urban center smaller settlements emerged, which did not surpass the level of
the village, from Casalecchio to Savignano, Castelfranco, San Giovanni in Persiceto,
Castenaso, San Lazzaro, and Imola.
3 The Orientalizing at Felsina

The birth of the city of Felsina also marks the achievement of a strong aristocratic
class, which was already emerging in the middle of the eighth century. Around 730–
720, during the period defined as Early Orientalizing in Etruria, it also appears pre-
dominant in the archaeological record.
Excavations of inhabited areas have recently proven that as early as the seventh
century, an urban organization that presented characteristics of standardization must
have already been active. In particular, it is possible that a north-south axis road,
perpendicular to the northern fortification wall, divided the city down the middle, fol-
lowing the religious precepts that in Etruria were in charge of the foundation rituals.
Moreover, it might foreshadow a specialization of the various urban quarters, with the
southern part, against the hills, used mostly for residences, and the northern part for
workshops and open space. A recently excavated building on the Via D’Azeglio shows
a complicated elongated (albeit partial) plan with side-by-side rooms and a central
span, approaching the gentilic domicile known from Etruria proper; in the courtyard
was a monumental well made with large cylinders of terracotta.
From the necropolises of this period, we have a clearer image of the great prosper-
ity of the city, which took on a strategic role with respect to the entire Po Valley, in
relations not only with Etruria, but also with the Adriatic coast, where the Villanovan
center of Verucchio had taken on the function that had been Frattesina’s.
The necropolises are clearly arrayed as spokes of wheel, probably corresponding
to the access roads from the city. In the western part, where the Benacci necropolis
was, the topographic continuity is also especially clear in the sense that the Oriental-
izing period burials tend to grow farther away toward the western Arnoaldi lands.
Similar indications are also clear to the east and north. Nonetheless, other necrop-
olises originated in this period, such as the Arsenale Militare burial ground in the
southeast, and those recently identified in the Via Belle Arti and the Piazza Azzarita

1442 Luigi Malnati
to the north. Other burial grounds, with smaller numbers of burials, are placed in
secluded, more marginal areas from the beginning (Via Tofane, Manifattura Tabac-
chi, Via Saffi, Via Monte Sabotino). This situation clearly corresponds to an articu-
lated social structure with old traditional aristocratic families and nouveaux riches.
Between the end of the eighth century and the year 600, the hierarchical composition
of Felsinian society on the funerary level is evidenced by the typology of the burials,
which are arranged in groups, in some cases in tumuli or circles, with the tombs of the
progenitors in the center. The elevated burials are by a huge majority still cremations,
although the percentage of burials increased over time. The urns in the richest tombs
are in large pits with wooden cases sometimes filled with pebbles or covered by indi-
vidual tumuli. During the seventh century, the method of inserting the urn with its
appurtenances within a large terracotta jar came into use. The most important burials
were signaled outside by cippi and stelae of stone, but probably also of wood. The
entire display was thought of as a powerful exterior representation directed toward
the world of the living. The most remarkable stone stelae, certainly belonging to very
important people, are of a type peculiar to Felsina, a rectangle showing the body sur-
mounted by a disc, perhaps to represent the head, although the decoration of the
discs, when it is present, is not anthropomorphic in character, but symbolic.
The funerary equipment completes the picture, and reveals the extent of the rela-
tionships that the Felsinian aristocratic class maintained. The nature of the appur-
tenances displays a gender distinction, with the women always associated with
weaving and spinning tools and some elements of clothing and ornament (fibulae,
pendants, “tintinnabuli”—a sort of large axe- or bell-shaped pendant provided with
a small clapper), the men with weapons and pins for fastening the cloak. In terms
of social and economic stratification, there is a large variety of deposits, not only in
the selectness and value of the objects included, but with the passing of time also
in the quantity of ornaments, tableware, and furnishings that were “sacrificed” in
the funerals. Especially that which relates to the funerary banquet anticipates the
deposit of ever richer items, and with the greater power and social rank of the family,
bronze objects were also often deposited, whose significance was merely to display
their economic resources, keeping in mind that this metal was considered a means of
payment by weight.
Objects in gold and silver (armbands, fibulae, ornaments), ivory (combs, pendants),
amber (elements of necklaces, pendants), impasto (beads), locally made and imported
bronze tableware (bean-decorated goblets, cups, situlae, cistae, large tablets It. Presen-
tatoi, censers), fine ceramics made in Etruria or Greece (Corinthian or Etrusco-Corin-
thian goblets and perfume flasks; bucchero cups, jugs, and bowls) have all been found
in the richest tombs. Among the locally made ceramics, those that are wheel-made,
decorated with stamps and feature geometric motifs of Oriental inspiration stand out.
They are widespread not only on the funerary level, and characterize the whole period.
The presence of specialized craftsmen indicates a rather advanced degree of
social articulation that is typical of a developed urban center. Archaeology shows us

75 Emilia 1443
only what concerns smiths and potters, but we can certainly imagine many other cat-
egories as well, from carpenters and woodworkers to merchants and scribes. These
diverse conditions also make themselves known on the funerary level. With the
seventh century, some burials, often identified as male by armaments, rather than
being included in a gentilic-style grouping, are arranged separately, in rows.
This was thus by now an advanced society with an aristocracy that ruled thanks
to its possession of land and livestock and its control of the commercial routes across
the territory, and with emerging urban classes that that making itself known inde-
pendently. This situation must have corresponded to quite a strong political power,
probably a monarchy. In particular, two funerary stelae—one found by chance more
than a century ago (the Zannoni stela), and one recovered more recently in the Via
Tofane—seem to have belonged to two people who must have held considerable
political power. Both are missing their upper part; assuming one ever existed, they
would have represented the deceased on a cart drawn by a pair of horses, probably
representing the journey to the hereafter, but following a pattern that clearly recalls
the royal depictions that are widespread among Oriental sovereigns. It is worth noting
that the Zannoni stele turns out to have used a reworked earlier gravestone depicting
the Tree of Life, and to have in turn been reused as the lid of a pit grave from the end
of the seventh century.
Other Orientalizing monuments from Felsina show clear Near-Eastern influence,
which suggests on-the-spot activity by immigrant Syrian artists, in addition to content
that is public in character with considerable symbolic significance. The “Malvasia
stone” is a large monument with a heraldic composition of two bovines rampantly
flanking a Tree of Life, perhaps originally mounted above an entrance (to the city?), in
such a way that it could be seen from both sides. The Gozzadini head, part of a sphinx,
recalls an element typical of an imposing funerary monument or a royal standard
intended to be placed on a base. Two large cylindrical monoliths, originally embed-
ded in the ground, offer moldings and symbolic decorations very obviously of Ori-
ental derivation that were found deposited intentionally during a ritual act within a
votive pit. They have been interpreted as altars or as bases for a monumental gateway
to the city or to the eastern necropolis.
Among the many signs of the social evolution of Felsina is the introduction of
writing, which appears at its earliest as alphabetic marks or numerals used on serial
bronze or ceramic products. Later it was used to record gifts and votive offerings on
clay vessels. The innovation of writing corresponded either to the needs of the artisan
and merchant classes to fill the obvious need to record and verify their own activities,
or to the desire for public display of the political elite.2
2 The most recent and broadest account of the subjects remains Malnati and Manfredi 2003. To the
bibliography given there, add, with extensive relevant bibliography at least: Sassatelli and Donati
2005; Locatelli and Malnati 2007; Ortalli 2008; Curina et alii 2010; Marchesi 2011.

1444 Luigi Malnati
4 Emilia in the Orientalizing period

Between the end of the eighth century and the year 600, it seems clear that Felsina
took political control of a wide territory stretching from the Panaro on the west to
the Santerno on the east and ruled the plain as far as the Po, penetrating into the
main Apennine valleys that communicate with Etruria proper. The organization of
the territory was entrusted to gentilic families of local origin in close cooperation
with those who ruled in Felsina. The rich funerary equipment of the territory (at
Marzabotto–pian di Venola, Casalecchio, Savignano, Crespellano, San Giovanni in
Persiceto, Castenaso, Bentivoglio, Granarolo, San Lazzaro, and Imola) suggests a
desire of these groups to adopt the Felsinian model and viewpoint of external rep-
resentation. Funerary stelae of the Bologna type come from all these sites. In their
funerary interments stand out the sheet bronzes, the stamped pottery, and the deco-
rations that came from Felsina. There was probably a matrimonial exchange among
the various communities, where the wife moved to the husband’s family with her
own equipment. Women’s tombs are certainly the richest of those of the ruling elite.
Among the male equipment, however, the characterization as a warrior and “knight”
often appear, in which possession of a horse or a war chariot, usually indicated sym-
bolically by horse bits, is a typical aristocratic sign, as in many contemporary Italic
and Greek societies.
The local aristocracies are also identified with more obvious manifestations of
power, such as some stelae from Marano di Castenaso (the stele “of the sword”) or
Bentivoglio (the stele with a sphinx on the disc), the tumuli of Casalecchio, and the
central Italic-style manor house found at Imola.
This is probably the period, then, to which the reputation as princeps Etruriae
(attributed to Felsina by Pliny the Elder) should be assigned. Nevertheless, Etrus-
can presence north of the Apennines was probably not exhausted with Felsina;
even without considering Verucchio, the forerunner of Rimini, other states of affairs
should be clarified in Romagna, where at San Varano di Forlì, a funerary stela has
been found—unfortunately by accident—entirely different from those from Bologna,
with the Tree of Life.
In the west too, the archaeological evidence, which is constantly growing, pre-
sents a variety of situations. Two funerary cippi from Rubiera, dating to the end of the
seventh century, stand out, one with a series of sphinxes and griffins, the other with
winged lions. Both cippi bear inscriptions, the oldest on monumental supports, using
an alphabet different from that used in Felsina. The inscriptions name a person with
a binomial name, avile amthura, and a zilath—in this period a king or military leader.
They also reveal the presence of groups of aristocrats who probably came from north-
ern Etruria on the banks of the Secchia, as shown by the alphabet that was used in
the area of Chiusi and the typology of the funerary symbolism, which have parallels
in Volterrano and the Pisan region. Similar connections with northern Etruria can be
followed on the basis of occasional finds along the Apennine rivers as far as the Po,

75 Emilia 1445
between Taro and Secchia. These are the first signs of colonization processes, which—
apart from Felsina—overtook the Po Valley in an area probably originally populated
by Ligurians.
5 The Archaic period

With the beginning of the sixth century, we observe signs of major change in the
archaeological evidence from Bologna and the surrounding area, if not exactly a
complete break with the previous picture. Edoardo Brizio, with Pericle Ducati in his
wake, maintain that this change was due to ethnic turnover from the Umbrians/Vil-
lanovans to the Etruscans. Further research, rendering it ever more evident that the
Villanovan culture was none other than the earliest phase of Etruscan civilization,
has definitively thrown this interpretation into crisis, but not the bases on which it
is founded. Actually, at Bologna/Felsina, the beginning of the sixth century marks
a major discontinuity. On the plane of urbanism, the northern fortifications came to
be abandoned and the inhabited region was located and organized in the southern
sector, following a plan on the basis of recent finds (Via D’Azeglio, Via Capramozza,
Viale Aldini), which appears to follow a regular plan of perpendicular axial roads.
In the Felsinian necropolises, contrasting lines of progression appear. The
necropolises of the Orientalizing period seem almost abandoned in the southwest
and southeast, while others came into use in nearby locations (Giardini Margherita
compared to the Arsenale Militare) or are physically separated by built structures (a
canal divides the Orientalizing Arnoaldi necropolis from the Archaic and Classical
one). In other circumstances, to the north, there was instead continuity of location
(Manifattura Tabacchi, Via Belle Arti), but often with the new burials distinct from
the older group (Via Saffi, Piazza VIII Agosto) or alteration of the organization of the
necropolis (Piazza Azzarita, laid out in rows rather than in groups). In the typology of
interments and their equipment the same variety of solutions. The burials are much
more clearly apparent, while among the cremations, nearly always in jars, some pri-
marily female tombs again stand out by the richness of their equipment and adher-
ence to local traditions. Some burials that feature armaments seem clearly to relate to
foreigners (Venetic merchants?), while others relate to people of Celtic origin.
The funerary stela from Via Augusto Righi, though it has no context, is traditional
in type but features a fight scene between foot soldiers armed with shields and spears,
and might offer a clue to a new interpretative hypothesis. It is possible that the gentilic
system, probably monarchic in character, was called into question during the Archaic
period, with the political ascendancy within Felsina of new classes not linked to the
gentilic system, but organized into an army with weapons of the hoplite infantry, fol-
lowing a development that was found simultaneously in both the Greek model and
in other Etrurian cities (Tarquinia) and in Rome (the reforms of Servius). There are

1446 Luigi Malnati
some additional archaeological indications that serve as further evidence of this new
situation, such as the abandonment and reuse of Orientalizing stelae (significant is
the use of the stele of Via Tofane as the cover for a pot burial), the ritual burial of the
cippi of the Via Fondazza, and finally, the exceptional figural repertory of the “situla
della Certosa,” a bronze vase preserved in a later tomb. The work of a Venetic crafts-
man working in Felsina that dates to the sixth century, it shows a military parade with
the army divided into several ranks of variously armed hoplites led by horsemen. This
revolution in the organization of the army was probably the outcome of the changing
political situation, including the advance of the Umbrians into Romagna. The Umbri-
ans also occupied the Imolese, and cut Felsina off from Verucchio. The change also saw
the renewed presence of the Ligurians in western Emilia, where burial grounds spread
out with cremations right next to pots and a few burials. The Ligurians were probably
flanked by Etruscan colonists from northern Etruria, who were stationed especially
between Taro and Panaro. These new Etruscan colonists may be the initial founders of
the city of Marzabotto (Misa?) in the Reno Valley during the sixth century. Around 600,
furthermore, a new expedition of the Insubres, led by Bellovesus, had defeated the
Etruscans of the Po region at Ticinus and occupied the region beyond the Po.
Felsina reacted to this situation with an internal political reorganization, which
soon extended to the territory, with the founding of a new port at the mouth of the
Po in the Adriatic, at Spina, in 530, and with the occupation and reestablishment of
Marzabotto, the new city (Kainua) around the year 500.
6 The Classical period

In the fifth century, the picture appears to have stabilized. Felsina appears completely
reorganized on the urban plane, with new buildings with foundations of cobbles and
squared stones, raised in mud brick or burnt brick, with several rooms, probably in
regular blocks. The new political stability was sanctioned by the sanctuary complex
on the Villa Cassarini hill, on the southern flank of the city, dedicated to Hercle and
Aplu, as it were in the position of a small acropolis. Other minor sanctuaries encircle
the city, and craftsmen’s installations for the production of ceramics and metals were
located in the periphery.
The necropolises, found along the entry roads to the city (from the southwest,
Certosa; from the northwest, Via Saffi; from the southeast, Giardini Margherita; and
from the north, Piazza Azzarita and Manifattura Tabacchi were now for the most
part arranged in regular rows, taking on an “egalitarian” tendency, but some tombs
were distinguished by monumental aspects addressed to the outside, with decorated
stelae, cippi, and funerary monuments.
The typology of interments, whether burials or cremations, presents a great
variety (cremations in pots, in large vases including imported Attic figural ones or

75 Emilia 1447
bronze vases; burials in wood caskets in simple trenches, or sarcophagi made of

blocks of stone), and so does the composition of the grave goods, in testimony to a
highly varied and articulated social composition. The richest male and female burials
are distinguished by complete sets of banqueting equipment, with bronze tableware
imported from Etruria or of local manufacture, and figural ceramics imported from
Attica, as well as dining tables, candelabra, lampstands, and torches; arms are rare,
but not entirely absent. Social and political prestige is affirmed by the presence of the
diphros—a magistrate’s footstool—and by the display of the typical “horseshoe” stele
on the outside, which was hitherto attested only at Felsina and extremely rarely in the
surroundings (Casalecchio, Crespellano). There is a variety of depictions, which tend
to represent the voyage of the deceased to the beyond, and include mythological and
symbolic displays and indications of gender and status (soldiers, female figures). The
presence of inscriptions on some of these confirm the presence of certain great ruling
families, such as the Kaikna (Lat. Caecina) and the Kathle, nomen in three cases of the
zilath. In this political situation, it is very likely that these were indeed supreme mag-
istrates of what by then was a republican government, albeit ruled by the gentilic aris-
tocracy, just as in Rome. This confirms the hypothesis that Felsina had still retained
supremacy among the cities of Po-region Etruria in the fifth century. No other city
offers such a concentration of signs of power (monumental stelae, funerary display
of international prestige, presence of zilath, and sanctuary for the tutelary god, an
ancient tradition going back to the eighth century).
Around the city, the territory took on a functional organization with the renewed
role of Felsina. Lesser centers are known, whether big villages surrounded by fortifi-
cations on the ramparts-and-moat model (Castelfranco Emilia) or organized accord-
ing to more advanced urban planning, with regular streets and houses with masonry
foundations (Casalecchio). The contemporary necropolises of the area around Felsina
confirm the impression that there were small centers ruled by families linked to the
city (Casalecchio, Sasso Marconi, Riccardina) or else with ties to the Celtic world (Cre-
spellano, Castelvetro). The recent discovery of a manor house just outside Bologna on
the Via A. Costa, to which the monumental necropolis of the Stadio may have been
related, confirms that the power of the Felsinian elite was still based on the control of
territory and probably on its military function. This power is also often evident in the
depictions on the funerary stelae, with cavalry and hoplites in arms, as well as with
the depiction of the commander of a warship on the stele of Vel Kaikna (Fig. 61.1).
7 Spina, Marzabotto, and western Emilia

Spina was founded around 530 on the southern branch of the Po known specifically
as the Spinete, very close to the mouth, in a marshy (It. perilagunare) area on sandy
mounds surrounded by water. The main settlement, discovered in the Mezzano Valley

1448 Luigi Malnati
in the 1960s, was on a sort of six-hectare island between the course of the Po and a
southern tributary. It was surrounded by a system of canals, defended by ramparts
and palisades, with a neighborhood of workshops outside it and a ship’s landing
farther east, at the point where the Po flows into the Adriatic; a sanctuary outside the
town lay to the north in Cavallara.
The urban plan consisted of rectangular blocks around a main north-south axis
in the form of a broad canal. The houses of this period have not been extensively
excavated, but they comprise several rooms with walls of lightweight materials (wood
and burnt brick).
Again, most of our information about Spina comes from the necropolises. Some
4000 tombs have been excavated in the two eastern necropolises (in Valle Trebba and
Valle Pega) since the 1920s. They date from 500 to the middle of the third century. At
Spina, as at Felsina, the variety in interments is considerable, whether cremations or
burials; two burials in sarcophagi made from imported Greek marble stand out. The
funerary equipment is highly varied at Spina. A constant feature is the great abun-
dance of ceramics imported from Greece, which is only to be expected in what must
have been the Adriatic port. Spina supplied all of Po-region Etruria—and, indirectly,
northern Italy and Central Europe—with the finished products from Greece and the
Near East. This is where exchange with Greek merchants took place, whose presence
at Spina is proven by many inscriptions on ceramics; they had come in search of raw
materials, grain, slaves, and livestock.
The richness of some of the funerary appurtenances of the fifth century, such
as at Tomb 128 of Valle Trebba, shows that in terms of economic resources, the local
ruling class did not have anything to envy with respect to the Felsinian aristocracy,
and adopted the same funerary customs, including exotic banquet furnishings. Dec-
orated funerary stelae lack, however, and thus the level of external representation
entrusted to stone and wooden markers was less important. It seems that at Spina,
the commercial bent of the city favored the ascendancy of social groups that were
distinguished more by private material wealth, reflected in their equipment, if not
in the public ostentation of their rank. At Spina, alongside the Etruscans, a group of
resident Greeks were identified as well as populations likely from other stocks, such
as the nearby Venetics.
Since the eighteenth century, another Etruscan city has been known at Marzabotto,
on the Misano Plain in the Reno Valley. As has been said, it is possible that in the sixth
century, the city was called Misa/Misala, a name found on the cippi from Rubiera. At
the beginning of the fifth century, the city was refounded, which required construction
work on a vast scale, leveling of the landscape and laying out an urban plan based on a
great north-south street crossed by three east-west perpendicular streets. Cippi marked
with the decussis—the cross—which were needed for laying out the street axes accord-
ing to Etruscan surveying practice, were found at the intersections.
There are thus eight distinct “regions” that are in turn divided into regular blocks,
with one or a few spacious dwellings in each, usually with a central courtyard. The

75 Emilia 1449
foundations were of burnt brick, the walls almost certainly of wood, and the roof of
terra-cotta tiles. An efficient water supply system ran throughout the city at the sides
of the streets, which were lined by shops and workshops (foundries and potters).
Northwest of the city on a little rise stood the acropolis, with three temples and two
monumental altars, one dedicated to the gods of the underworld and the other to
those of the heavens. Another large tripartite temple was found in the lower city, in
the northern sector, dedicated to Tinia, the chief god of the Etruscans. The new city,
a real example of planned construction, was certainly called Kainua (“new city”?),
the name found on a sherd of bucchero near the temple. It seems clear that this city
rebuilding in Felsina took place in the context of a policy of controlling the paths of
communication with Etruria proper.
The boundaries of the city are not entirely clear, although at least one gate has
been found in the east, which probably led to a necropolis, snugly inserted into a
natural rampart consisting of a discontinuity on the plain, which drops off toward the
Reno River Valley. Another rampart has recently been found to the north, and there
were two sanctuaries, one of which is dedicated to the waters, and the other of which
is dedicated to a goddess—perhaps Turan, the Etruscan Aphrodite—of whom a large
bronze votive statue has been found.
Two necropolises have also been excavated at Marzabotto—one to the north and
one to the east—laid out in groups, with cremations in stone boxes and burials in
graves edged by stones. The grave goods repeat the patterns of Felsina and Spina, at a
medium level, adapted to a city of merchants and manufactures.
The mutual role of Felsina, Spina, Marzabotto/Kainua, and the other cities that
constituted the dodecapolis of Po-region Etruria, mentioned in the sources, such as
Mantua or Adria, is controversial. It is likely that in a framework of mutual autonomy,
Felsina retained the role of political capital of a sort of confederation, in which each
of the other urban centers played a specific role.
In the fifth century, greater control was exercised by Etruscans in western Emilia
as well, where especially in the Modena area, but at least as far as the territory of
Fidenza and the Po, agricultural settlements came into existence, from Mirandola
(Miseria Vecchia) to Reggio Emilia (Casale di Villa Rivalta) to Fidenza (Siccomonte) to
Cortemaggiore, and genuine farms (for example at Baggiovara di Modena). The agri-
cultural organization of the territory, based in this case as well on considerable rec-
lamation and deforesting efforts on the plain, built on a system of regular canals that
anticipated the Roman centuriation, furnished the economic base for exchange with
the Greek world by way of the Adriatic and with Etruria via the Apennine valleys.3
3 The most recent and broadest account of the subjects remains Malnati and Manfredi 2003: to the
bibliography given there, add, with extensive relevant bibliography at least for Marzabotto: Vitali,
Brizzolara and Lippolis 2001; Sassatelli and Govi 2005; Bentz and Reusser 2008; Sassatelli and

1450 Luigi Malnati
8 The aftermath
At the beginning of the fourth century—or maybe even earlier, because it must have
been a gradual process—the Boiian Celts penetrated into Emilia, after crossing the
Po and occupying the territory. The archaeological evidence shows that the western
centers fell first, perhaps already in the fifth century, while Felsina and Marzabotto
must have been occupied in the first half of the fourth century, perhaps Felsina first
and the Apennine center afterward. They were to have different fates. Felsina contin-
ued to be occupied and the Boii made it their capital, changing the name to Bononia.
Marzabotto was destroyed and occupied by small groups of military character.
Spina survived another century, inhabited mostly by Etruscans, but nonetheless
politically controlled by Celts (Boii and Lingones), who were unfamiliar with mari-
time commerce and warships. The Etruscans of Spina thus turned to piracy, but at
the same time provided the Adriatic port through which the Celtic elite provisioned
themselves with valuable merchandise. The goods from fourth-century Spina and the
dwellings excavated in recent years confirm the situation. The piracy and commercial
activity of Spina were still accompanied by major craftwork manufacture like ceram-
ics. Nonetheless at the beginning of the third century, after the battle of Sentinum
and the ensuing extermination of the Senones by the Romans, the Celts—probably
Boii—freed themselves from a center that may have formed a natural ally of Rome and
a bridge to the Venetics (who had always been faithful allies of Rome itself in anti-
Celtic matters). They besieged Spina and compelled the residents to abandon the city.
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Sassatelli, G., and E. Govi, eds. 2005. Culti, forma urbana e artigianato a Marzabotto. Nuove
prospettive di recerca. Bologna: University Press.
—. eds. 2010. Marzabotto. La casa 1 della regio IV – insula 2, 1–2. Bologna: Ante Quem.
Vitali, D., A. M. Brizzolara, and E. Lippolis. 2001. L’acropoli della città etrusca di Marzabotto.
Bologna: University Press.

Patrizia von Eles, Gabriele Baldelli
76–77 Romagna and the Marches
Introduction
At the end of the Bronze Age the same archaeological facies still seems to unite,
together with Umbria, the two bordering regions to which these chapters are dedicat-
ed.1 In the Early Iron Age, however, their history begins to divide, as is shown both
by the difference of the facies between Villanovan Verucchio and Picene2 Novilara,
although geographically close to each other (Figs. 76.1 and 77.1), and by the notice-
able distance (ca. 200 Km) that separates Fermo from Verucchio, both true Villanovan
‘bridgeheads’3 in the Adriatic. In spite of the strength of the reciprocal relationships
that were always to continue to link the two regions, it is not arbitrary to treat them
separately.
1 Recent bibliography and discussion in von Eles and Pacciarelli forthcoming. For relations with the
Chiusi-Cetona group see also chapter 76 von Eles.
2 For a purely conventional, not ethnic, sense of the archaeological concept of ‘Picene civilization’
and of the adjective derived, see Baldelli 2000, 31–2, 35, with bibliography and discussion at notes
1–3, 27). The northern limit of such a group compared to the Verucchio group seems attested at Boncio
(Baldelli 2001, 66; 2002b, 11–12), in the vicinity of Gradara; it is more difficult to identify a frontier in
the successive phases (cf. Lollini 1985, 338–44, 353–54, 358, with comments of G. Colonna and P. von
Eles, on which also Baldelli 2002a, 69, n. 2).
3 The italian expression ‘teste di ponte’ is Pallottino’s (1984, 56, 150), but used with reference to the
overcoming of the Appennines by the single Emilian and Romagna nuclei, the first of which also as
we now know (Bermond Montanari 1993), reaches the Adriatic at Argenta, not far from Spina. The
analogy with the ‘outposts’ of Guillermo Algaze (1993) is evidenced by Guidi (2006, 60).
1454 Patrizia von Eles
Patrizia von Eles

76 Romagna
Abstract: Romagna includes a large region from the southern boundary with Marches to the Province
of Forlì. Traditionally and culturally though the area southeast of Bologna including Imola is seen
as being part of Romagna and it will therefore be considered here. The focus being relation between
Romagna and Etruria, the outlook is necessarily different between Early Iron Age, with main point of
attention on the southern Adriatic and Verucchio, and the later period when the whole territory sees
a different panorama.
Keywords: Verucchio, Fermo, Adriatic sea, Early Iron Age
Introduction
Current definition of Romagna (Fig. 76.1) includes a large region from the southern
boundary with Marche to the Province of Forlì. Traditionally and culturally though
the area southeast of Bologna, including Imola, is seen as being part of Romagna
and it will therefore be considered here. As will be shown, the focus being relation
between Romagna and Etruria, the outlook is necessarily different between Early Iron
Age, with the main point of attention on the southern Adriatic and Verucchio, and the
later period when the whole territory sees a different cultural panorama.4
The area around Imola during Early Iron Age and up to the first half of the seventh
cent. BCE is strictly connected to Villanovan Bologna. As documented by well-known
old finds and by recent excavations in Orto Granara, Pontesanto and Ca’ Borghese it
can be assumed that relations of this area with Etruria directly depended on Bologna.
This territory was essential to the economic survival and the urban development of
Bologna; new excavations in Imola clearly show that the relation was based on the
direct establishment of aristocratic groups with important settlement structures and
reserved small but prestigious and rich burial grounds (Fig. 76.2) where distinction
symbols, such as thrones, were used in male and female graves. These elite families
organized and controlled an intensively occupied area, certainly extremely important
4 Delivered for printing in February 2012; researches and excavations after this date have not been
considered here; only recent studies on Verucchio and results of excavations in Verucchio, Pian del
Monte, by Prof. Maurizio Harari (Pavia University) are briefly mentioned. For an updated general
outlook of Romagna from Final Bronze Age to Iron Age and previous bibliography: von Eles and
Pacciarelli forthcoming.

76 Romagna 1455
1. Medicina 9. Poggio Berni

2. Orto Granara 10. Covignano
3. Borgo Tossignano 11. Verucchio
4. Gaggio 12. Ripa Calbana
5. Fontanelice 13. Perticara
6. Castrocaro 14. Monte Copiolo
7. San Martino in Gattara 15. Pennabilli
8. Marradi
Fig. 76.1: Romagna and sites mentioned in text

Fig. 76.2: Bronze items from Imola, Pontesanto, grave 7

(from von Eles 2007)
for agricultural activities5 and probably had some kind of role in handling routes and
commercial links between Bologna, the Adriatic and possibly also partly Etruria. Iron
Age settlements in the Appennine valleys and a possible direct connection between
northern Romagna and Etruria are documented, already in the eighth and early
seventh centuries. BCE, by the Borgo Tossignano, Gaggio, Fontanelice and Montericco
graves in the Santerno Valley. Between Imola and Cesena there are no known Early
5 For preliminary information on recent excavations and studies in Imola Pontesanto, Ca’ Borghese
and Orto Granara and for a map of Iron age sites von Eles et al. forthcoming; Giumlia-Mair and
von Eles forthcoming.

76 Romagna 1457
Iron Age settlements, but a lozenge belt buckle (It. cinturone a losanga) found near
Marradi in the Lamone Valley is a likely testimony of direct connection with Tuscany,
along a route later to be followed during the Second Iron Age.6
1 The Final Bronze Age

With regard to the Adriatic regions, the essential question of relations with Etruria
needs to be approached starting from the Final Bronze Age situation, when in the
Marecchia Valley, a territorial system is recognizable with hill settlements in San
Marino, Ripa Calbana, Monte Copiolo, Monte Perticara, and probably San Leo. There
are different opinions about the cultural definition and the significance of this area
in the general frame of Italian Final Bronze Age, but it is quite clear that it had an
important role in relations with Northern Oriental Italy, Northern Internal Etruria and
Marche.
Information is not quite sufficient for a detailed chronology of the various Bronze
Age sites. It has been suggested that settlements in Calbana, San Marino and Veruc-
chio as well as bronze deposits from Casalecchio di Verucchio and Poggio Berni can
be dated to the early or middle stages of the Final Bronze Age not to the end of this
period. On the hilltop of Verucchio, in Pian del Monte, recent explorations have
brought to light remains that prove the existence of a Final Bronze Age settlement7
with definite comparisons to the Pianello facies, whose relations with northern inner
Etruria are generally acknowledged.8 Due to our still incomplete knowledge of this
phase in Romagna continuity with the Early Iron Age settlement it is not clear. It can
be underlined though that the choice of the site in the Early Iron Age seems to follow
an earlier territorial pattern.
If the most important Early Iron Age necropoleis, Verucchio and Fermo were, as
generally regarded, proof of the early settlement on the Adriatic coast of Etruscans
coming from southern Etruria,9 this would indicate a quite conspicuous change in the
6 The significance of the bronze belt (Torelli 2000, 547, no. 26) has been underestimated: Marradi is
not far from the cemetery of San Martino in Gattara.
7 In the site (Casa della Musica, via Nanni), situated near the northern edge of the plateau, structures
and stratigraphy strata and structures, unfortunately probably exposed for a long time and therefore
very disturbed, refer to two separate chronologic horizons dating to Final Bronze Age and First Iron
Age. Excavations are yet unpublished.
8 Sestieri 1999; Vanzetti 1999; Zanini 2000; this facies is named facies Chiusi Cetona by Alessandro
Zanini, while Alessandro Vanzetti (and Renato Peroni) preferred to indicate it as facies di Pianello.
9 There are certainly remarkable affinities between the two centers but differences are also
noteworthy: territorial strategies as well as rituals (presence or absence of inhumation graves) or
typological comparisons. For Verucchio: Gentili 1987, Colonna 1987, 1993 (for a later synthesis of this
point: Sassatelli 1996); for Fermo and references see chapter 77 Baldelli.

direction of contacts between the two sides of the Apennines from the Final Bronze
Age to the Early Iron Age. However contacts with northern Etruria and Chiusi in the
first half of the eighth cent. BCE should also be taken into consideration.10 At present,
taking into account the territorial system, is difficult to consider the development of
the Villanovan expressions in Romagna only as directly emanating from Etruria or
even as a real colonial phenomenon. However, the emergence of Villanovan culture in
Romagna shows a disruption with the past and the beginning of a new historical cycle
which developed through a complex system of relations (parental, tribal, ethno-lin-
guistic, religious and cultural). Within this scheme large new structured settlements
likely began with the arrival of new groups, as well as with a reorganization of local
communities whose inhabitants, upon becoming part of a new system, created their
own identity adopting new cultural codes in a consciously selective way.
2 Verucchio
In the ninth cent. BCE Verucchio became the leading center in Romagna, part of a well
structured network of Villanovan sites in a territory that extended from San Marino to
Cesena.11 It maintained its role as the leading Villanovan center until the second half
of the seventh cent. BCE.
The choice of Verucchio as the basis of Romagna territorial system in the Iron Age
is obviously a strategic one, aiming at control of the Adriatic Sea and functional to an
early inclusion in commercial exchanges with northern and central Europe. From the
eighth cent. BCE, amber was a primary factor in the economic development of Veruc-
chio that certainly had a central role in controlling this commerce on the Adriatic and
through the Apennines toward central and southern Italy. Other items, like tin, were
probably also very significant in the connections between the Mediterranean world
and Central Europe.12
Relations between Etruria, Romagna and Bologna from Early Iron Age have long
been discussed.13 Within the Etruscan “system” each center had its peculiarities in
social and economic organization, which were reflected in cultural identity features.
This is easy to see in Verucchio which clearly fits a general scheme where during the
first phase (ninth cent. BCE) a more homogeneous appearance is shared by all Vil-
lanovan territorial aspects. As early as the ninth cent. BCE, differences can be seen
between the various areas, to be considered as marks of cultural identity but it was
10 See, as an example, some pottery shapes (Bettini 2000, fig. 5,5; 15).
11 Gentili 1985; Cristofani 1995, 146–149. For bibliographic references to Verucchio up to 2012:
von Eles 2012.
12 Giumlia-Mair and von Eles forthcoming; Giumlia-Mair 2015, 137–153.
13 Bartoloni 1986.

76 Romagna 1459
really during phase II (early eight cent. BCE) that each large center developed its own
peculiar features. A process of identity building that can be fully understood only in a
diachronic and integrated perspective paying attention in some instances to typologi-
cal attributes, in others to rituals or perhaps also to the dressing codes.14
From Early Iron Age onward site occupation strategies continued along lines
already established in earlier periods, allowing for control over the Marecchia valley
and the coast.15 This is clearly demonstrated by the location of both settlements sites
and necropoleis. Based on our present knowledge, in the ninth cent. BCE two sepa-
rate cemeteries faced the Adriatic (Lippi)16 and the Marecchia Valley (Lavatoio); only
later, sometime before the middle of the eight cent. BCE, other groups used necropo-
leis (Moroni and Le Pegge) situated on the east side towards the Ausa Valley and San
Marino (Fig. 76.3). The greatest part of modern research is due to Gino Vinicio Gentili
whose suggestion that the different burial grounds correspond to groups having sepa-
rate settlements is probably correct, although it is difficult to know exactly how the
settlement structures were distributed.
Early Iron Age pottery had been found by Gentili on the southern border of the
Pian del Monte plateau (Cappuccini), in a position directly overlooking the Lavatoio
necropolis, a strategic location for control of the Marecchia Valley. On the opposite
side, on a terrace overlooking the Adriatic Sea and the Lippi Necropolis, excavations
conducted in 200917 demonstrated occupation and working activities starting in the
Early Iron Age. Other undocumented finds attributed to settlement remains under the
medieval castle were reported by Renato Scarani.18 On Pian Del Monte, the hilltop
having an extension of approximately 26 ha, Gentili19 mentions several structures
(“capanne”) found in the central area which he dates to the Villanovan period. Unfor-
tunately no systematic explorations have been conducted and published: it is there-
fore difficult to understand their real significance and chronology; occupation cer-
tainly continued after the Final Bronze Age, but it is difficult to evaluate and interpret
the finds.20 It is possible that the area was not all in contemporary use, and changes in
14 From this point of view it is interesting to observe that in the ninth cent. BCE the fibule serpeggianti,
which are a standard item in male graves Bologna as in Etruria, are completely missing in Verucchio
(von Eles 2015b).
15 von Eles 2009; Bottazzi and Bigi 2008.
16 This necropolis is named by Gentili “Lippi/Sotto la Rocca” (Gentili 2003); hereafter it will be named
as ”Lippi”, including parts formerly known as Podere Gardini, Podere Dolci and Proprietà Giovannini.
17 The site was partially excavated before a parking area (Verucchio, via Nanni) was built. I wish
to thank Michele Degli Esposti (Bologna) to whom I am in debt for following all the work and
documentation and providing a first structural and stratigraphic interpretation.
18 From unpublished data in Soprintendenza Archeologia dell’Emilia-Romagna archives.
19 Gentili 1986.
20 Gherardini (1917), Scarani (1961) and Gentili (1963): archive data in Bologna Soprintendenza finds
prove beyond doubts that Pian del Monte was intensively occupied during Early Iron Age. Indirect
proof is the early “practical” use for water supply of the deep pit (infra) at the center of the plateau.

Fig. 76.3: Verucchio, settlement area in Pian del Monte and necropoleis (from von Eles 2014)
Recent research in the archives and deposits in Bologna Soprintendenza by Lisa Manzoli and Lorenza
Ghini (Specialising Thesis at Bologna University) have demonstrated that the method adopted by
Gentili in excavation in the Campo Sportivo did not follow stratigraphic units but layers of a pre-
determined depth: a procedure that does not allow identification of structures and even less their
chronological attribution. Particularly difficult is establishing a chronology for what Gentili calls
capanna A and attributes to the ninth cent. BCE: apparently the relative “layers” were only seen but
not excavated and nothing has been found in the deposits labelled as Capanna A or Fondo di Capanna

76 Romagna 1461
the destination are also likely. For the earlier phase, the large pit close to the center of
the area21, contained what seems to be only practical use pottery, while finds relating
to the eighth cent. BCE22 and later, are connected to a sacred area and ritual activities
that continued after the collapse of the Villanovan social and economic system during
the second half of the seventh cent. BCE.
We do not know how the Iron Age center was called: a name from which probably
derived Ariminum (the later Roman colony); a name that – as that of the river Marec-
chia (Ariminus) – has been connected to that of Aριμνήστοϛ, “king of the Tyrrhenians
the first of the foreigners to present an offering to the Olympic Zeus at Olympia”23,
whose gens might have had a role in the Etruscan presence in Verucchio.24
Our knowledge of Verucchio is mainly based on funerary data. The four known
necropoleis have only partially been explored. In the most extensive, Lippi necropo-
lis, located at the foot of the hill, overlooking the Adriatic, over 400 graves have been
identified; in other cemeteries (Lavatoio, Le Pegge and Moroni) even more limited
explorations have taken place for a total of less than 200 graves.
All are cremation graves, except for very few dating to the final period25, burial
structures vary from simple pits to quite elaborate settings, in exceptional cases
similar to chamber tombs, a variety which is certainly not only due to chronological
development.
In all known necropoleis characteristics of graves structures and grave goods
correspond to what Adriano Maggiani26 synthetically defines as the archaeological
markers of an established aristocratic system: exhibited richness, social differences
and consciousness of family ties. Although the total number of graves can only be
approximately estimated, the necropoleis seem to have been used in each generation
only by elite groups consistently increasing the number of their members toward the
end of the eighth cent. BCE.
1. In the event of a real continuity of structures a possible interpretation was advanced by von Eles,
Miari and Romualdi 1997 (discussion in Ocnus 1999) later accepted by Luigi Malnati (Malnati 2008b)
and recently confirmed by M. Harari’s excavations in Pian del Monte (Harari 2016; forthcoming). A
recent partial review of references and archive data on Pian del Monte topography in Rondini and
Zamboni 2016.
21 von Eles, Miari and Romualdi 1997.
22 Including the ritual deposition of bronze shields (Gentili 1969).
23 Paus. 5.12.5.
24 Colonna 1987; 1993. Here Colonna, recalling his previous 1987 work, considering the late chronology
he assigns to the Olympia throne (late sixth or early fifth cent. BCE) does not exclude a connection with
an Etruscan chief settled in Capua or Nola after the Etruscan expedition against Cuma (524 BCE), which
in his opinion saw a leading role of Etruscans from Romagna. See also chapter 87 Naso.
25 A recent proposal has been advanced considering five phases in the chronological development
of the necropoleis covering the period from the tenth to the decades around the middle of the seventh
cent. BCE (von Eles 2015a).
26 Maggiani 2000, 251.

Based on present knowledge, there are differences among groups as to the period
of use of the necropoleis and adoption of partly different rituals, which could be
another way of stressing identity, the same attitude shown by the whole community
toward the “external world”.
During it’s entire development Verucchio villanovan and orientalising facies
seems to be characterized by three main factors dynamically related.
1. Accepting and including cultural elements from different areas: Bologna, Piceno
and Etruria;
2. Capacity to start new technologies and/or elaborate new types particularly in
amber craftsmanship as well as in metallurgy;
3. Choosing to preserve objects or types which, without clear changes, continued to
be included in funeral deposits for several decades.
Without going into a detailed analysis, with regard to the first issue, in the earliest
phase attention is drawn towards southern Etruria and Umbria;27 in the first half of
the eighth cent. BCE28 contacts with Bologna were manifestly quite strong; at the end
of the eight and early seventh centuries BCE direct contacts with Etruria are well dem-
onstrated, not only in lifestyle and prestige symbols, most of which (i.e. thrones, fans,
belt clasps It. affibbiagli)29 shared by other Late Iron Age and early orientalizing com-
munities in Italy. Almost exclusive persistence of cremation rite corresponds to what
happens in internal northern Etruria. It is impossible to establish whether or not this
similarity is due to something more than similar cultural developments. Comparisons
with Chiusi and Volterra can be found in particular pottery finds30 and many types of
fibulas.31 The presence of wooden thrones in Verucchio seems to have served different
purposes in funerary rites than the later bronze and terracotta thrones in Chiusi;32 in
Verucchio they were not used as a “seat” for the urn,33 even if these are personalized
27 Among the most significant types that represent clear links with Tyrrhenian Etruria the helmet
shaped urn lid in Lavatoio, Campo del Tesoro Grave 52 (Tamburini-Müller 2006, 157 with earlier
bibliography; according to Cristiano Iaia (Iaia 2005, 112–114) this is a close imitation of a bronze
helmet tipo Tarquinia dating to the early eight cent. BCE. Again to Southern Etruria and/or Umbria
(Terni) point several types of disk-shaped bar fibulae (fibule con staffa a disco).
28 See the many types of fibule ad arco ribassato e ingrossato which all have clear parallels in Bologna
and fibule ad archi paralleli, an exclusive Bologna type which is imitated, with technical differences,
in Verucchio (von Eles 2015b).
29 Bentini 2015.
30 Bettini 2000, fig. 5,3.
31 Delpino 2000, figg. 9, 9.12.17–18, 20–21.
32 The decoration scheme of the painted throne from the grave from Poggio Renzo, in Cristofani’s
opinion dating to the second quarter of the seventh cent. BCE (Cristofani 1971, 25, fig. 7) could have
some relations to Verucchio wooden thrones where the openwork wheel motive is recurrent; for a
“religious” interpretation of this motive Ortalli 2011, 160, footnote 121.
33 Mazzoli and Pozzi 2015, 94–95.

76 Romagna 1463
and dressed up. Close connections of Verucchio with Marsiliana and Vetulonia have
been frequently underlined. The existence in Verucchio of workshops active in the
production of bronze (helmets, cups with high openwork handles, ciste a cordoni)
and iron objects (long curved knives and daggers) suggests trade with sites of metal
ore production likely on the Tyrrhenian coast. Iron ore could reach Verucchio via
Chiusi trough the Marecchia Valley, while amber, as well as probably tin and copper,
arriving to Verucchio from central Europe could then reach the Etruscan centers on
the Tyrrhenian coast.34 It is significant that amber craftsmanship in Verucchio and
Vetulonia seem to follow completely different models.35 Proof of a mediation role of
Verucchio in contacts between central Europe and Etruria (Tarquinia and Vetulonia)
can be found in particular kinds of vessels or horse harnessing equipment.36
A preliminary analysis of topographical organization is possible only for Lippi
necropolis. It shows that already in the first phase a large part of the burial ground
was already in use and that later grave groups developed mostly around the early
ones.37 In addition to topographic distribution of graves other factors clearly indicate
that élite families were already established and well conscious of family ties from the
ninth cent. BCE: the frequency of several depositions within single or closely connects
pits, anthropological examination of the human remains showing mixed composition
of grave goods as to gender and age and a consistent percentage of urns containing
more than one individual.38
Equally clear is the intentional stressing of specific self-representation and iden-
tity marks,39 as demonstrated by the development of very complex funerary rites as
regards the choice of objects as well as the ways to manipulate and place them in the
grave. It cannot be without meaning that the most impressive differences from other
Villanovan contexts concern objects connected to ritual functions.40 Almost com-
pletely absent are objects typical of Bologna: ritual trays (It. presentatoi), bronze small
footless one-handled cups (It. capeduncole), globular closed containers (It. incen-
sieri), small bronze shovels (It. palette)41, tintinnabula42, pottery cylindric supports
34 Delpino believes that the development of Chiusi was related to control of trade connected to
metallurgical activities (Delpino 2000, 94); Giumlia-Mair 2015.
35 Cygielman, Spaziani and Rafanelli 2009.
36 von Eles 2002, 118, nos. 135–140; von Eles and Marchesi 2015; on these European harnessing types
see also D. Faccenna and M. Martelli 2005, 320 considering the possibility of direct contacts between
central Europe and Verucchio; Naso 2011.
37 von Eles 2014, fig. 6.
38 Manzoli, Poli and Negrini 2015.
39 Bentini et al. 2015.
40 It can be interesting to remember the completely different attitude of the Villanovan elites in
coastal Campania, that fully adopt ways and ritual of the gruppi dominanti delle aree più avanzate
(d’Agostino 1988, 100).
41 Bentini 2015b.
42 Bentini 2015c.

Fig. 76.4: Bronze cups with openwork handle (1. Verucchio Grave Lippi 32/2006 from von Eles ed.
2007 2. Verucchio, Grave Le Pegge 3/1970, from Gentili 2003; 3. Spadarolo, Museo Civico di Rimini)
(It. vasi a diaframma) or double vases (It. vasi gemini), brown and red painted ware.
Other items have their symbolic an ritual equivalent in objects with a different shape
or decoration: the fan-shaped axes (It. asce a flabello) are replaced by heavy axes,
made useless by small chains attached to the cutting edge;43 the bronze cup with high
openwork handle has a recurring decorative scheme on the handle44 typical of Veruc-
chio and in some cases a human figure supporting it (Fig. 76.4).
At the end of the eighth and in the first decades of the seventh cent. BCE Lippi
necropolis shows several high rank groups that include both male and female graves;
a similar situation is also shown in Moroni and Le Pegge necropoleis. This could mean
a certain amount of conflicts in power-sharing between leading high-ranking per-
sonalities, a conflict which could represent one of the weak points of the “Verucchio
system” probably responsible for it’s sudden collapse.45
The most famous grave is Lippi 89/1972 with a rich and exceptional set of grave-
goods deposited in a deep pit.46 Above a large wooden chest a decorated wooden
43 Bentini and Di Lorenzo 2015, pl. 14, nos. 68–69.

44 The motive with a central human figure and animal all around is exclusive to Verucchio.
45 This opinion has been recently shared by M. Harari (Harari 2016).
46 von Eles 2002.

76 Romagna 1465
Fig. 76.5: Throne from Verucchio, grave Lippi

89/1972 (from von Eles 2002)
throne had been placed (Figs. 48.4 and 76.5); inside the chest a large bronze situla
was found, which served as the cinerary urn. It was “dressed” with textiles, weapons,
gold, amber and bronze ornament; in the chest were also found other wooden objects,
ornaments, weapons, bronze and pottery vessels, chariots and harnessing equip-
ment. This grave has connections ranging from Central Europe to Tarquinia and Vetu-
lonia and can be dated to the end of the eighth or early seventh cent. BCE.
Some of the female graves contained not only very rich and complex sets of grave
goods which indicate that the women had high social status and significant roles.47
Among the richest graves are Lippi 47/1972, 32/2006 and 40BIS/2006, all including
exceptional amber fibulas (Fig. 76.6), one of the highly specialized productions of
Verucchio.
In the matter of technologies and craftsmanship, Verucchio offers the most sur-
prising data. The leading groups provided social stability, through control of the ter-
ritory demonstrated by the importance of warriors, and the continuous and consist-
ent importation of minerals and amber. Specialized artisans produced, for specific
clients, – in different materials like amber, bronze, iron and glass – very particular
objects that can be considered strong signals of cultural identity. Innovative tech-
47 von Eles 2007; Bentini et al. 2015.

Fig. 76.6: Amber fibulae from Verucchio (from von Eles 2015b)
niques were used in specialized workshops where artisans of different fields worked
together. Although it might be suggested that the amount of amber found is only due
to exceptional preservation conditions, it must be stressed that Verucchio developed
highly specialised craftsmanship using amber not only in ornaments but also in many
different classes of objects, which do not seem to have comparisons in other Iron Age
sites. In other instances Verucchio artisans produced objects that, although perfectly
similar to items found elsewhere are not functional, demonstrating the importance of
some pieces from the exclusive point of view of social communication.48
48 This is the case of the iron sword in grave Lippi XX/1970, that can be compared to the one from
Casale Marittimo, but where the sheath cannot be removed from the blade being nailed to it: Bentini
and Di Lorenzo 2015b.

76 Romagna 1467
The most elaborate fibulas were never produced in greater numbers than neces-
sary for the costume of one lady. On the contrary, there is proof of “serial” production
of metal weapons,49 like strong long iron knives, present in more than fifty pieces, or
the conical crested helmets,50 both once considered of Picene origin. This means that
distribution of some products went far beyond the local area and reached what we
would now call “external markets”, certainly Bologna, Piceno and possibly Etruria.
Control by the elites over the artisans and limitations in the use of the burial
grounds imposed by the aristocratic families can also be inferred by the absence of
artisans’ burials.51 The economic system seems similar to that presently acknowledged
only in the Archaic period at Murlo. The social and economic system was apparently
guaranteed in Verucchio by the warriors, whose role increased during the eighth and
early seventh centuries BCE, but lost some of its importance in the final phase, appar-
ently a sign of the beginning crisis. It was a situation full of contradictions with a very
strong role of specialized craftsmanship that would naturally tend to an urban social
and political structure: a trend toward which did not occur in Verucchio aristocratic
society.
During the final phase of the evolution of the Villanovan society of Verucchio,
which came to an end not much later than the middle of the seventh cent. BCE52, the
local community contracted consistently but continued to produce or accept innova-
tion in rituals and artefacts. New objects were pottery with stamped decoration, some
types of weapons and horse harnessing equipment, amber objects. There were no
changes in the social structure: warriors continued to have an extremely important
role, though new weapons assemblages might indicate some internal reorganization.
Cremation continued to be the only adopted funerary rite; only a small number of
inhumation graves, with very simple sets of grave goods – similar to those present
in Bologna around the middle of the seventh cent. BCE were placed in a central area
of Lippi necropolis, apparently not previously used, where two ritual depositions
of horses were found in 2008. The sacrificed horses were not related to any specific
grave, so it is likely that their deposition might be connected to collective rituals
as seems to be the case for a similar situation recently recovered in Bologna, in the
necropolis of Via Belle Arti (Fig. 76.7).
Date and meaning of the end of the social and economic system documented at
Verucchio in the Late Iron Age are still under discussion.53 Some scholars have in the
49 von Eles and Trocchi 2015, 103.

50 Ten exemplars of this type are now known from Verucchio, on the possible origin in Verucchio of
the type see Iaia 2005, 138–139; Mazzoli and Negrini 2015.
51 Extremely rare is the presence of working tools, and no grave can be definitely ascribed to an
artisan.
52 von Eles 2015a, 40–43.
53 Many aspects concerning the social and economic structures and developments in Verucchio were
discussed at the conclusion of the meeting held in Verucchio in 2011 (Rodriguez 2015).

Fig. 76.7: Horses burials: 1. Verucchio, Lippi Necropolis;

2. Bologna, Belle Arti Necropolis
(from von Eles, P., M. Mazzoli and C. Negrini forthcoming)
past underlined the interruption existing in the necropoleis,54 while others believed
in continuity apparently shown by the settlement structures in Pian del Monte.55
What cannot be doubted at present is the abrupt end of the economic and social
system expressed in the Villanovan necropoleis and in the settlement structures as
now documented by new excavations in Pian del Monte.
54 Cristofani 1995, 158–159; von Eles 1999.

55 Sassatelli 1996, 252–253.

76 Romagna 1469
An indirect signal of changes pertaining to the economic basis of Verucchio can

be seen in the changes in amber trade and working traditions: before the end of the
seventh cent. BCE Verucchio no longer played the central role in amber trade. Instead
amber had a highly increased diffusion in Piceno, but object types and techniques
follow totally different patterns.56
Several reasons can be suggested for Villanovan Verucchio crisis:
1. the limited extension of the settlement site and difficult access to it, although
certainly strategically favorable during Early Iron Age, were factors that probably
became severe impediments to change and development;
2. the significant activity in the Adriatic region of Umbrian groups whose wide-
spread presence has been recently confirmed by a number of new finds in several
sites in Romagna, Imola and Bologna;
3. the inability of the hegemonic groups (who continued to express their role and
identity in fundamentally unchanged ways) to cope with new dynamics in a
time when fully urban centers developed in central Italy and the Adriatic region,
meaning that the power these dominant groups acquired in the preceding centu-
ries became their weak point and no longer a strength;
4. the existence of internal contradictions among different groups within the com-
munity.
3 Archaic and late archaic periods

Gentili dates to the sixth cent. BCE his phase IV57 suggesting that the cultural change
could be partly due to the appearance in the area of umbrian groups. Malnati as
already mentioned58 accepts a discontinuity with respect to the end of the villanovan
necropoleis, in his opinion to be placed at the end of the seventh cent. BCE.59 He
also observes that there is lack of documentation between the later graves in the Vil-
lanovan necropoleis and the Pian del Monte structures that cannot be dated earlier
than the last quarter of the sixth cent. BCE.60 Recent excavations by Pavia University
in the area and under the so called “umbrian or etruscan house”61 confirm a definite
iatus between the latest villanovan structure (first half of the seventh cent. BCE) and
56 Boiardi, von Eles and Poli 2006.

57 Which does not consistenly appear in the necropoleis.
58 See note 21.
59 In my opinion somewhat earlier than that.
60 Malnati 2006, 87.
61 Whose real function, that does not necessarily coincide with architectural plan, has not really
been discussed.

the building of the “Casa Umbra (ovvero Etrusca che dir si voglia)” in an advanced
moment of the IV cent. BCE 62.
After the seventh cent. BCE finds in Verucchio are concentrated in Pian del Monte
but only ritual activities show some kind of continuity. The end of the eight cent.
BCE sees the already mentioned ritual deposition of bronze shields near pre-existing
pit filled in the fourth cent. BCE with selected potteries, bronze statuettes and many
bronze fragments presumably originally located in a nearby cult area open to pres-
ences from distant region: Etruria, Piceno, Veneto and for the first time also Lom-
bardy, as demonstrated by objects recovered from the pit.63
From the sixth cent. BCE a general change is quite definite both with regard to of
cultural panorama and territorial setting in Romagna.
Cultural differences are evident in the burial grounds: cremation disappears,
inhumations (frequently multiple deposition) are disposed in circles (Fig. 76.8);
pottery shapes and ornaments types change and also show marked differences from
those attested in Etruscan Felsina. In the largest explored necropolis, Montericco in
Imola, combined analysis of archaeological and anthropological data shows changes
in the social structures and roles during the period of use. In the central phase indi-
vidual role is particularly underlined by the importance of weapons64 in young war-
riors graves, and by the marginal location of children depositions, in the later period
family ties seem to prevail, with children graves placed inside the circles stressing
their being full members of the family groups.65
Attribution of this cultural facies to Umbrians has been generally acknowledged
since Giovanni Colonna and Mario Zuffa studies66 mainly based on the finds from
San Martino in Gattara.67 Recent doubts advanced by Giuseppe Sassatelli68 have
been rejected with adequate answers and updated information by Colonna to which
nothing need be added.69 New data, due to territorial researches and excavation by
Monica Miari70 and the present author indicate that, Umbrian settlements are well
62 Harari 2016; forthcoming.

63 von Eles, Miari and Romualdi 1997.
64 A particular type of short and narrow spearhead, to be used only for point thrusting, has been
recognized in Romagna and Umbria, from contexts dating between middle sixth and fifth cent. BCE
by Armando Cherici (Cherici 2014).
65 Bergonzi and von Eles 1988, 344.
66 Colonna 1974; Zuffa 1975, 134.
67 Bermond Montanari 1996, 2005.
68 Sassatelli 1999; Sassatelli and Macellari 2002, 407–415.
69 Colonna 2008, 47–48; the general frame outlined in 1981 (von Eles 1981) been enriched but not
substantially modified by recent discoveries; updated synthesis of available information are due to
Malnati (Malnati 2006; 2008a).
70 Miari 2014, with previous bibliographic references; a new burial ground referring to the same
aspect has been recently explored in Castelbolognese (Faenza) by Monica Miari, whom I wish to thank
for the information.

76 Romagna 1471
Fig. 76.8: Burial circles. 1. Montericco Necropolis (from von Eles 1981)
2. San Martino in Gattara (from Bermond Montanari 2005)
documented in the plain between the Apennines and the Adriatic coast, reaching
Ravenna.71 Presence near Medicina (south east of Bologna) of Umbrian settlement
71 Miari et al. 2008. Most of known sites are in the Apennine valleys (Santerno, Senio, Lamone,
Bidente, Savio, Rubicone, Conca). A good number of sites from the plain were already, though
insufficiently known (von Eles 1981), a fact that suggested how lack of sites in the plains, should not
be considered an historic reality (Sassatelli 1999; Sassatelli and Macellari 2002) but evidently only a
result of geomorphological changes or occasional lack of documentation and systematic research,
as correctly foreseen by Guido Achille Mansuelli and recently by Colonna (Mansuelli 1963, 119–121;
Colonna 2008, 47).

structures and graves overlaying a small earlier Villanovan necropolis indicates a

possible contraction of Bologna territory.72 A similar situation had already been doc-
umented in Imola where orientalising graves were found in the area of Montericco
Necropolis.73
Interaction, suggested by Colonna on the basis of the bronze breast-plate from Rio
Carpena and of a particular type of bronze belt-buckles, which he believes made in
Bologna and from there diffused to Romagna (Castrocaro, Forli),74 has been recently
confirmed by “Umbrian” fibulas (Casalfiumanese type) in Bologna Belle Arti graves
dated to Bologna IV C phase.75
Presence of the Umbrians in Romagna certainly did not interrupt contacts with
Etruria also through the Apennine valleys as proved by the San Varano gravestone,
found at a crossway of the roads coming down from Tuscany with the plain road con-
necting Bologna to the Adriatic coast, which shows direct influences from Tuscany.76
From the end of the seventh cent. BCE in southern Romagna organization of the
territory changes, with control moving to the hills nearer to the coast; pressure from
Umbrian groups is well documented and could also explain the already mentioned
lack of documentation in Pian del Monte settlement in the first part of the sixth cent.
BCE. It has long since been established, on the basis of both archeological and epi-
graphic data,77 that Etruscans continued to have in the area a very significant role as
shown by Etruscan inscriptions found in Verucchio and Convignano:78 direction of
contacts were new and point mainly at Tyrrhenian Etruria (Volsinii) through the Ausa
valley; continued Etruscan presence in the higher Marecchia valley has been recently
indicated by the discovery at Ponte Messa, near Pennabilli, of a large stone with an
etrusco-corinthian bas-relief connected to a kind of monuments well-known in Chiusi
and in Val d’Elsa in the first half of the sixth cent. BCE.79 Contacts through the Marec-
chia valley have also been documented in recent excavations near San Sepolcro80
by the In the lower Marecchia valley Covignano substitutes Verucchio as the most
important center: but the two cult areas documented at San Lorenzo in Monte81 and
72 Site of Fossatone: von Eles et al. forthcoming.

73 Boiardi 1987; von Eles and Pacciarelli 1994.
74 Which represent, with the two graves from Russi, the earliest finds that can be attributed to this
cultural aspect; for other finds showing contacts with Piceno see Prati 1996, 284–92.
75 von Eles, Mazzoli and Negrini, forthcoming; Carancini’s chronology is here adopted: Carancini
1969.
76 Cherici 2014.
77 Different opinions have been advanced on specific inscriptions and objects, regarding dating,
linguistic and ethnic attribution: see Cristofani 1995; Colonna 2008; Malnati 2006, 2008b; Agostiniani
2003.
78 Colonna 1987, 37.
79 Cherici 2014.
80 Iaia and Moroni Lanfredini 2009.
81 Malnati 2006, 90.

76 Romagna 1473
Villa Ruffi probably also attracted external contacts.82 The sanctuaries in Covignano
as well as in Pian del Monte continued to be in use probably deriving their importance
and significance from being “places of tradition and memories”.83
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Gabriele Baldelli
77 The Marches
Abstract: The Marches stretch along the eastern slopes of the Appennines to the south of Romagna
on the shores of the Adriatic Sea. This region is crossed by parallel river valleys, like the teeth of a
comb, but those of the Esino and Potenza, amongst the most important rivers of the central area, are
connected at the base of the mountain, where Fabriano and Matelica are found, by an easily crossed
geological depression. It was, therefore, the mountain passes, the maritime routes, and the coastal
and lower valley plains that allowed the penetration of the Etruscans, whom ancient literary sources
and archaeological evidence attest as both a sporadic physical presence and more generally as agents
of a cultural influence.
Keywords: Picene civilization, Cupra, Fermo, Matelica, Orientalizing
1 Early Iron Age Fermo in its regional context

As the theme of the Etruscan presence in Romagna centers on Verucchio, at the begin-
ning of the Early Iron Age and throughout the almost two centuries of its duration, so
in the Marches it essentially centers upon the weight given to the Villanovan nucleus
of Fermo,1 whose very existence, in contrast to the contemporary, but not uniform,
spread of Picene civilization2 throughout the rest of the region, is amazing in its iso-
lation.3 (Fig. 77.1) To the south of the promontory of Conero and twice the distance
of Verucchio from the Apennine ridge, Fermo is, in fact, much further also from the
basin of the Tiber and so, compared to the other regions of the peninsula where the
1 Most recently, in general and with rich bibliography, Baldelli 2000c; Baldelli et al. 2003. The history
of the excavations and research is reconstructed by Baldelli 1996. In all these articles, however, is
forgotten Colini (1915, 67, n. 1), almost prophetic about the results of the digs carried half a century
later. For the chronology of the necropoleis and relations with the other Villanovan centers, in the
absence of the publication and complete study of the former, instead, as well as Drago Troccoli 2003,
Peroni 1992 remains fundamental. His work is the result of accurate and highly competent sampling
of grave goods and individual objects, particularly from the necropolis of Misericordia, selected at
Ancona, not only from the National Archaeological Museum, but also from the annexed deposits. Of
great interest, finally, Montali 2006, summary of a first exemplary work of analytic (and also graphic)
documentation and reconstruction of the archaeological reality completed as far as possible: her
work, limited to only one sector of the Misericordia necropolis, remains to be published in its entirety
and systematically extended to the rest of Ferman necropoleis.
2 To limit oneself to the essentials: Lollini 1976; Naso 2000; Eroi 2001; Atti Ascoli Piceno – Teramo –
Ancona.
3 Pallottino 1984, 150, actually defines it as an ‘island’ for this reason. For the distance from Verucchio
see above Introduction, and for a critically conducted comparison between the two centers von Eles
2008, 204–217, 225.
1480 Gabriele Baldelli
1. Boncio 11. Sassoferrato 21. Belmonte

2. Pesaro 12. Castelbellino 22. Rasenna
3. Novilara 13. Cupramontana 23. Cupramarittima
4. San Costanzo 14. Sirolo 24. Ripatransone
5. Sant’Angelo in Vado 15. Numana 25. Grottammare
6. Monterolo 16. Fabriano 26. Offida
7. Cagli 17. San Severino Marche 27. Acquaviva Picena
8. Ostra 18. Matelica 28. Spinetoli
9. Serra Sant’Abbondio 19. Fermo 29. Campovalano
10. Ancona 20. Grottazzolina
Fig. 77.1: The Marches and sites mentioned in text

77 The Marches 1481
Villanovan culture spread, truly isolated by land.4 Here, in any case, unlike Veruc-
chio, the Villanovan settlement seems always to have remained within the limits of a
single site, which archaeology continues to show us as being devoid of appendages
of similar facies in the surrounding territory,5 and almost without any reflection in
the following period,6 when, from the seventh century BCE, it takes on the charac-
teristics of one of many centers of the zone belonging to the Picene civilization.7 This
change — though the funerary grave goods of the seventh century BCE remain com-
pletely unpublished, but are anyway devoid of startling signs of orientalizing char-
acter8 — is yet to be clarified in its unwinding and causes; but as for its effects, it
does not seem to have left or indeed filtered the slightest legacy of mythical-historical
accounts or secure enough traces in the toponymy.9
In a territory perhaps only apparently uninhabited10 at the end of the Bronze Age,
scarcely seven kilometers from the sea, and dominating from on high all the expanse
4 Less so by sea: see further ahead in this text.

5 The fragments of biconical vases from the inhabited area of Belmonte (Dall’Osso 1915, 112; cf. von
Duhn 1939, 219; Baldelli 2000b, 45–6; Peroni 2005, 736), not far away, remain undocumented and
should be considered by now irremediably lost; but Dall’Osso’s knowledge of the materials of this
type was deep, direct and at first hand, acquired at the Museum of Bologna, where he worked for
many years. Further south, now in Abruzzo, the concentration of eight lozenge belts in the necropolis
of Salino and the other elements of Tyrrhenian–Villanovan provenance (Lucentini 2009), added as
far as Campovalano (Grassi 2003, 491–92, fig. 2, tab. Ia), continue to appear to be an isolated instance
and without much connection to Fermo, at a period when, in the whole intermediate territory, the
Early Iron Age remains known only from sporadic objects or some isolated Picene tombs (Baldelli
1982, 143–44, nn. 6–7; Lucentini 1995, 27–30, 41, figs. 8 e 14; Bergonzi 2000, 34–5). On the relatively
numerous lozenge belts from Fermo and from other findspots of the region, see here footnote 30.
6 The northern Etruscan votive small bronze, portraying Minerva and accredited with a provenance
from Fermo (Richardson 1983, 348, no. 2, figs. 824–26; Cristofani 1985, 280, no. 90), actually comes
from the Fermo ancient collection belonging to the De Minicis brothers, which was rich in materials
acquired from throughout central Italy: cf. Baldelli 1996, 18, n. 9. Without a possible reference to an
archaeological known context, near Fermo, remain also the other north Etruscan votive statuette of
the Danish National Museum (Richardson 1983, 75, no. 6, fig. 876), said from the locality of Porto San
Giorgio and datable around the middle of the sixth century BCE.
7 Such as Montegiorgio (von Duhn 1939, 233–36; Seidel 2006, 156–60) and then, attested only from the
sixth century BCE, still in the vicinity and forming a circle, also Sant’Elpidio a Mare (Ritrecina 2010,
45–6), Montegranaro (Jacobsthal and Langdorf 1929, 93; Lucentini 1999, 171, n. 66), Rapagnano and
Torre San Patrizio (Baldelli 1998, 109; but earlier von Duhn 1939, 236–37), Grottazzolina (Lucentini
2004, 2005), Monterubbiano (von Duhn 1939, 241) and Torre di Palme (Baldelli et al. 2003, 341–47),
but in the latter with the important difference of the frequent presence of large rings with six knots.
8 Unlike Verucchio, but as in the entire Ascoli province: Bergonzi 2000, 36–7.
9 Cf. Baldelli (1996, 15, n. 4), which remains as stated without further proof.
10 Few fragments of Middle/Recent Bronze Age, recovered on the summit of Girfalco, and the
neighboring contemporary sites of Monte Urano and Marina Palmense (Baldelli et al. 2005, 566–
67, 569, 571) suggest that more intense archaeological exploration could modify the actual state of
knowledge.

Fig. 77.2: Fermo: the hill (in the middle) and the necropoleis (on both sides)
(after Baldelli 2000c, 57)
of low and perhaps then marshy beach between the mouths of the rivers Tenna and
Ete Vivo, Fermo is already easily recognizable as Villanovan in the 9th century BCE.
(Fig. 77.2) The two necropoleis of Misericordia and Mossa, explored several times
over during the work of the expansion of the modern city, actually began with tombs
belonging to the older period of the Early Iron Age and already typically Villanovan,
with elements which — apart from those less indicative in such a sense and common
to the areas of Umbria and the Marches — recall both southern and inland Etruria,
especially through the pottery11 and prestige objects, and to a lesser extent Bologna,
particularly through small bronze objects such as fibulae and others. In this first
period the funeral rite is exclusively incineratory; the biconical urns, decorated in
the canonic forms and closed by a bowl, turned upside down, with the edge curving
inwards, or, more rarely, with a truncated cone and only blocked at the mouth thanks
to the brimmed edge, are found inside simple pits. These have burnt earth at the base,
11 Peroni 1992, 21 and 23; Camporeale 2000b, 104; Drago Troccoli 2003, 36–8. All with references,
among the other centers and above all for the earlier phase, at Chiusi.

77 The Marches 1483
which in several cases12 goes as high as the stone covering. Funerary objects are rare,
often consumed by fire and almost solely of personal apparel; there are no weapons,
but often in male burials we find the crescent-shaped razor and in female almost
always the addition of the spindle. As regards the relatively early beginning of the
necropolis of Misericordia, which has also provided us with two urns of a form still
echoing Protovillanovan models, the later date for the necropolis of Mossa13, — actu-
ally far less known because of the serious delay in the restoration of almost all the
finds — could be more apparent than real.
It is only close to the passage to the second phase of the First Iron Age (when
observation of the incineratory rite also becomes less rigid, with, for example, an end
to the rigorous practice of filling the pit to the brim with burnt earth) that there begin
to appear at Misericordia, perhaps significantly in female burials, the first trench
tombs for individual interment: in one case,14 already on a wooden plank — as will
be seen more frequently later on15 — and with the addition, also for the first time,16 of
some supplementary small jars beside the biconical urn, not used for incineration; in
a second case,17 with a little gold parure18 as a first isolated supplement of objects of
great prestige.
12 About the Misericordia necropolis see Montali (2006, 190–91, nn. 21–2), who forgets tomb 10E/1956
at that necropolis (Baldelli 1996, 23; 1998, 59) and the Mossa tomb 15 (Baldelli 1996, 33; 1998, 62). At
the opposite extreme, the only one without any burnt earth and important because it is among the
earliest, Misericordia tomb 42D/1956 (Baldelli 1996, 25).
13 In this necropolis is found tomb 15 (Baldelli 1996, 33), the earliest among the few now datable.
Drago Troccoli (2003, 38, n. 28, 47–8) attributes it to the passage to the successive phase, but he places
before it tomb 3, of a baby of a few months (cf. Baldelli 1996, 32).
14 37D/1956 (Montali 2006, 218, 240–41, n. 22).
15 For one of the numerous examples seen at Mossa and for others noticed at Misericordia see
respectively Baldelli (1991b, 19, fig. 9, with multiple laying down) and Montali (2006, 191, 219), whose
list, once again all of only female burials (apart from one, but damaged and dubious), does not include
tomb 121Sm/1957 (Baldelli 1996, 29–30). Similar preparations are referred to the Picene necropoleis of
Offida (von Duhn 1939, 250), Spinetoli (von Duhn 1939, 253), and Cupra Marittima and Grottammare
(Dall’Osso 1915, 182, with notification also of very rare nailed coffins). Interment inside tree trunks or
in real coffins, as in Latium (cf. Drago Troccoli 2003, 48–50, n. 94), are not attested at Fermo; the case
of Matelica, pointed out by Montali 2006, 191, is isolated and should anyway be considered separately.
16 This use then spread during the second phase (Drago Troccoli 2003, 50, 69, 74, figs. 8, 23/3–4;
Montali 2006, 220), also in the incineration pits (Drago Troccoli 2003, 56, 61–2, figs. 11/3, 14/1; Montali
2006, 191).
17 10S/1956 (Baldelli 1996, 26; Drago Troccoli 2003, 45–47). To minimize slightly Montali’s perplexity
(Montali 2006, 189, n. 16 and 218, n. 103) over the dating, account should be taken that the later
date suggested by Baldelli (1998, 61) had taken place ten years before publication (Percossi Serenelli
1998, 6).
18 Baldelli 2000c, fig. 76; Drago Troccoli 2003, 45–6, fig. 6D.

It is more prudent,19 instead, to date the Misericordia tomb 8/1911 to the second
phase, largely corresponding to the 8th century BCE, because of the quantity of grave
goods20 and in spite of the presence among them of at least one arched fibula with a
whole curve apparently twisted.21 Consequently, this tomb’s bronze crested helmet,22
a true status symbol of a war leader, loses every primacy on being deposed, conform-
ing to more general use, just as others like it, documented at Verucchio and also in
Etruria itself, where so many helmets are put in the tombs sooner or later after their
use.23 Equally attested in the same burial is the stratum of pebbles on the base of the
burial trench and covering the interment, which, like the use of burying more than
one body inside the same trench,24 appears on other occasions in the necropoleis of
Fermo only from the second phase.25
19 Compared to what was hypothesized in Baldelli 1996, 20.

20 The unpublished documents of the excavation assign to it, apart from the spindle (feminine
gift?) and the helmet already known, a second weapon (an iron dagger) and perhaps part of a third
(bronze spear butt), an impasto vase with geometric ornamentation and – in bronze – a little basin
(for drawing water from the vase?), a razor, a ‘forcella’, a spit, a little button, three small twisted rings,
and three fibulae.
21 Baldelli 1996, fig. 2.
22 Lollini 1990, fig. 7; Iaia 2005, 76–7, no. 19, fig. 20. Another example from the same necropolis
(Iaia 2005, 92–3, no. 40, fig. 30) is ascribed to the destroyed tomb 74S/1957 (cf. Baldelli 1996, 27),
unfortunately the only find that can be attributed to it.
23 Iaia 2005, 65, 131. According to Mario Torelli (1990; now in Torelli 2011, 69–70), the models of
the weapons still carried at Rome by the Salii in the first centuries BCE, as elements of the ancient
vestis regia or triumphalis, can be identified in such helmets just as well as in bronze breastplates and
swords of the types found at Fermo in the Misericordia tomb 78S/1957 (Baldelli 1996, 28; Fig. 77.3).
As Salii’s encheirídion (Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 2. 70. 3 and 5), predecessor in the more remote age of
the sceptrum or royal scipio (cf. Torelli 2011, 70), it may not have been unlike the axe, which is, for
example, in the right hand of the bronze statuette of Ripatransone with a crested helmet (Eroi 2001,
232, no. 360).
24 In the Mossa necropolis, apart from tomb 51 (Baldelli 1991b, fig. 9), we can date to the second phase
of the Early Iron Age, according to Lollini (in Corrain and Capitanio 1972, 23, 26–8), the two-body
tombs 6 and 11. The second is probably a family tomb and has – the only case of a mixed ritual –
a cinerary urn of a third adult, male and not old. For the two-body and three-body tombs at Misericordia,
of which at least that already in the Museum of Ancona is datable between the eight and seventh
centuries BCE, see Baldelli 1996, 20. This funerary usage is also particularly part of the Picene culture –
cf. for example tombs 4 Via Diaz (Landolfi 2009, 50), 14 Fabiani and 8 Campodonico at Sirolo (Baldelli
and Lollini 1998, 95–8), 2 Mossa of Fermo (Baldelli 1996, 32), 16, 21 and 46 Curi at Belmonte (Dall’Osso
1915, 33, 67–8, 89, 152–53), at Montegiorgio (von Duhn 1939, 233–34) etc. – but not for the earlier phases
when, apart from at Fermo and Novilara (cf. Beinhauer 1985, 31), the usage is also known in Lazio (at
Crustumerium, Tivoli, Osteria dell’Osa, Decima, Ardea etc. — cf. Landolfi, forthcoming).
25 Other known single examples (Montali 2006, 191–92), only from Misericordia, tombs 7S/1956 and
19S/1956 (Baldelli 1996, 25–6), IB/1956, 19Alidori/1959, 19R/1957 and 41D/1956, among them the last
two, as Drago Troccoli (2003, 48, 80) emphasized, belonging to armed men. For such a use elsewhere
see Lollini (1976, 118, 122, 125), who regards them as typically Picene, and Beinhauer (1985, 49), who
apart from Novilara points it out at Cerveteri and in Istria.

77 The Marches 1485
Fig. 77.3: Fermo, grave goods of the warrior tomb Misericordia 78S/1957
Ancona, Arch. Mus. (photo courtesy Soprintendenza Archeologia
delle Marche)
In the course of this phase, then — following the evolution which, elsewhere as
well, is in any case mostly Villanovan — interment continues to spread until it in its
turn becomes the sole method. We also see, in both interment and incineration, the
continuance and indeed enrichment and progressive increase in numbers of the new
combinations of grave goods presented in the earlier context of the passage from one
phase to the other. In a number of cases these succeed in giving us a hint — but only
a hint — with the first clear signs of belonging to a high social group,26 of a more
26 But, it seems, less distinct from the rest of the community compared with Etruria (cf. Montali
2006, 234–35). To the dominance of this same rank certainly belongs the pit tomb with walls and false

ample provision of true panoplies and sets of dishes. Examples of these are, respec-
tively, the grave goods of the male tomb Misericordia 78S/1957, with an antenna sword
of the Fermo type inside a sheath and a breastplate, probably of the Latium model,
both of bronze (Fig. 77.3), and the female grave goods of Misericordia tomb 63Q/1957,
with an amphora with crested handles, also of the Latium type, and a small cup with
stamped decoration, both clay and placed one inside the other.27 The grave goods of
two other tombs are each marked by a larger vase of thin bronze and inside a small
clay cup for drawing out the contents: the male tomb Misericordia 2B/195628 has a
situla with moveable handles with cruciform attachment, of a central-European type
but most probably of northern-Etruscan manufacture; and the female tomb Miseri-
cordia 121S/195729 has a ribbed pail. Finally, in this last burial a lozenge belt buckle
seems worthy of note, made of bronze and already repaired in antiquity, which can
be placed alongside three others found in the same necropolis and a fifth kept in the
Museum of Fermo, also of plausible local provenance.30
2 Fermo, Cupra, and the Etruscans

Fermo’s isolation in the First Iron Age is, however, not only detectable from the type
of cultural material recovered from the burials and from the ideological and social
reality which can be inferred on its basis, but also from the exceptional nature, com-
pared to all the surrounding territory, of the inhabited proto-urban dimensions that
can be deduced from the whole topographical situation, as was first seen by Renato
cupola in stone, found unfortunately already looted in the Mossa necropolis and for which de Marinis
(2000) refers to northern-Etruscan examples.
27 Misericordia tomb 78S/1957: Baldelli 1996, 28. Misericordia tomb 63Q/1957: Baldelli 1996, 27.
28 Baldelli 1996, 23; 2002c, 27.
29 Baldelli 1996, 29–30.
30 For all of this see Lucentini 2009, but with the following clarifications: the belt buckle shown only
in a photograph from Dall’Osso (1915, 137) is that of the Fermo Museum (Lucentini 2009, fig. 5/2), given
by a landowner of Misericordia (Baldelli 1996, 18–19). The other, found in 1911, certainly comes from
tomb 7 (Baldelli 1996, 20–21), a two-bodies tomb, or, better, female, but with a male then placed on
top (with a bronze helmet of Picene kind, javelin, and two iron daggers), probably badly preserved
and even worse excavated: the description in the excavation documents — with the belt ‘on the
knees’ — ignores the fragment of ‘pre-Certosa’ fibula (a clear addition perpetrated in the museum)
and corresponds perfectly to the contemporary photographic evidence gathered by Lucentini
(2009, fig. 6), who trusts himself too much to the sequence of objects in the Inventario vecchio of the
Soprintendenza as proof of the association between them. From Numana von Duhn (1927, 136; 1939,
194), differently from Randall-MacIver (1927, 127, n. 1), knows of a single lozenge belt, evidently that
already described by Dall’Osso (1915, 262), who gives no details of either the site or the means of
acquisition. Finally, in the north of the region, the fragment believed to be of a belt from Sant’Angelo
in Vado, instead belongs to a ribbed pail (cf. Monacchi 2004, 136, fig. 46).

77 The Marches 1487
Peroni.31 The necropolis of Misericordia probably developed at the beginning along

the course of the ridge leading directly inland, and the other necropolis, of Mossa,
from the other side, at the beginning of the slope that descends towards the Adriatic
Sea, leaving the mid-ground on the higher part of the hill for habitation, a large empty
space of around 100 hectares. Such a general settlement scheme, like its relation to
the geo-hydraulic situation,32 is actually no different from that of the Picene centers
further south33 and of other known centers in the rest of the same civilization;34 but it
is the spaciousness of the central area that is not found in these centers, and makes
us turn to the comparison, yet again, with the contemporary great protourban centers
of Villanovan Etruria.35 Yet it is true that at Fermo the gentle and hilly landscape is
completely different from that of the bounded tufa plains of southern Etruria and the
rock of Verucchio;36 and so we should not imagine that sparse areas of habitation
uniformly covered the whole surface, from time to time steep and rugged,37 on which
the mediaeval city then spread itself.38 Indeed, in view of the general lack of sure evi-
dence, this cannot be said even for Verucchio:39 the Roman Picene cities themselves,
characterized by intensive urbanization, rarely exceeded 20 hectares. On this, most
recently and with reference to prominent situations in Etruria, Giovannangelo Camp-
oreale has written of the organization of the inhabited areas by ‘quarters’, close to the
necropoleis.40 The suspicion could also arise that the huge resources (demographic
and economic) required for whole inhabited occupation of the wide intermediate
space never existed, so determining at Fermo the impossibility of passing to a more
advanced phase of urban formation,41 and thus establishing the premises for the final
absorption of the Villanovan enclave into a different local context.
Massimo Pallottino42 suggested the hypothesis of a link between Villanovan
Fermo and the important coastal sanctuary, 20 kilometers further south, of Cupra,
still not identified in the territory of the Roman city of Cupra maritima.43 The sugges-
31 Peroni 1992, 26.

32 Agostini 1987, 91–92.
33 Baldelli 1982, fig. 1.
34 Surprisingly Boullart (2003, 164–65; 2005) gives only a fleeting hint of the dimensions of the
inhabited areas, which can, however, be easily reconstructed on the basis of geomorphology and the
displacement of the necropoleis. For some examples from the area to the north of Fermo cf. the maps
in Mambelli et al. 2005, figs. 1/A–2.
35 Most recently Bartoloni (2012, 92), with reference also to Fermo.
36 The difference is clearly pointed out by Mambelli et al. (2005), who indeed apply it also to Fermo.
37 Agostini 1987, 89.
38 With its extent compared to that of Villanovan Fermo: Peroni 1992, 26, fig. 12.
39 See above chapter 76 von Eles.
40 For Veii: Bartoloni 2012, 91–92; Camporeale 2008, 17.
41 As happens, for example, at Bologna in the first half of the eighth century: Sassatelli 2012, 163.
42 Pallottino 1963, 44; 1977, 147; 1984, 56, 150–51.
43 Most recently Capriotti 2010.

tion was possibly made to avoid admitting an exception to the rule of the substantial
coincidence between the areas of Villanovan spread and, in the historical period, of
definite Etruscan occupation — an exception which was, however, then made explicit
by Delia Lollini.44 Pallottino, who continued to develop and support his hypothesis
until the end, added the idea of an early penetration from the north ‘by a maritime
route . . . perhaps . . . from Romagna’. According to Strabo (5.4.2. C 241) Cupra maritima
was a known foundation of the ‘Tyrrhenians’, who absorbed the cult there, lending
to it the cult of Hera (or Uni).45 After Pallottino came those46 who wished to see in the
Villanovan nature of Fermo the outcome of a true colonial episode in the context of
the so-called ‘first Etruscan colonialization’, which, however, could not be followed,
over the passage of time, with all the necessary continuous support from the mother
country.47 The theme remains a subject of discussion,48 both through the claim to a
local root of the ‘Villanovan revolution’ at Fermo (and in the other parts of Italy) due
to the work of Peroni,49 and through the more recent (and converging) critique of the
concept itself of ‘double colonization’ and of ‘first’ and ‘second’ Etruscan colonization
on the part of Giuseppe Sassatelli.50 In the meantime, while with this last question the
view of integration between various ethnic components, and of different provenance,
has gained some way,51 Giovanni Colonna, lending perhaps excessive weight to the
modest though important territorial discontinuity between the districts of Fermo and
Cupra, has preferred to defer few centuries later the Etruscan presence52 at the trading
44 Lollini 1976, 160.

45 The link between the spread of the Cupra cult and Villanovan urns found in the Marches
was already in von Duhn (1939, 247), where Fermo’s absence from the list of localities is simply
forgetfulness (cf. in fact, von Duhn 1939, 239). Of the goddess, whose Umbrian-Sabine relevance is
however confirmed, even if the theonymic basis gave the gentilicia names as much Latin (cubrēnus,
but at Gubbio: CIL XI 5854) as Etruscan (cuprna, at Chiusi: ThLE 118), Colonna (1993, 23–25) has
documented the assimilation also to the Etruscan Mlacuch, carried off by Hercules on a famous mirror
from Atri examined in the article. On Cupra see recently Calderini 2001 and Betts 2013, both of whom
we cannot always share due to the amount of conjectures; more synthetic and interesting the point
made by García Ramón 2016. For a hypothesis of the geographical placement of the sanctuary, which
must have existed in the territory of the Cuprenses cognomine Montani, and for tracing back to it the
bronze statuette of Hercules from Castelbellino and the Picene necropolis itself of the same locality:
Baldelli 1995a; 2003.
46 First Torelli 1986, 24, 32.
47 Veio for Torelli 1986, 32; Orvieto or perhaps Chiusi, but less determinedly as possible mother
countries in the true sense, for Bartoloni (2012, 95), in the footsteps of Drago Troccoli 2003, 78. But,
more cautiously, Pallottino (1984, 56) limited himself to writing of the spread of a ‘Villanovan model’.
48 A review of the proposed solutions in Naso 2000, 69–72.
49 Peroni 1992, 25–26.
50 Sassatelli 2008, 77–80.
51 Colonna, in Camporeale 2008, 24, n. 67; but earlier Baldelli 1996, 16; 2000c, 59.
52 Colonna 1993, 7–8, n. 27. His reference is to the presence, not to the foundation, which he judges
earlier and, insofar as attributed to the Etruscans, only ‘asserted’ (cf. Colonna 1993, 10). This escapes

77 The Marches 1489
sanctuary recorded by Strabo and has framed it in the historical circumstances of the
‘long march’ of the Etruscans from the Po valley in the direction of Cumae in 524 BCE.
In this way he did not notice the contradiction with the sample of significant Etruscan
imports of the first half of the 7th century BCE, which he himself immediately before
illustrates for the same territory of Cupra53 and which, by way of contrast, reinforce
Pallottino’s conjectural link, suitably supported by Camporeale and most recently
quoted by Simone Sisani.54
3 The Marches from the seventh to the fifth cent.

BCE
Independently from Fermo, above all from the orientalizing phase, cultural influ-
ences and exchanges of objects, ideas, and people between the Etruscan and Picene
civilizations were always strong and penetrating,55 sometimes not clearly distinguish-
able from the similar relations with the Latium56 and Falisco-Capenate territory;57
apart from Fermo, on the other hand, these relations began for no other reason than
through geographical proximity and easy communications already between Novilara
and the Villanova culture of Verucchio and Bologna.58 The recent discoveries at Mate
lica59 have simply confirmed and significantly increased the evidence of orientaliza-
tion and, in a startling and unexpected way, have extended a little southward what
was already known from the necropolis of Fabriano,60 always along the same inland
Sassatelli (1999, 86) who in a note offers a hypothesis on the Picene origin of the sanctuary, suggested
to him by M. Torelli and not at all incompatible with Colonna’s analysis.
53 Colonna 1993, 10–13, nn. 27 and 34, figs. 2–3.
54 Camporeale 2000a, 63; Sisani 2009, 114. Less obvious Naso 2000, 243.
55 There is evidence, with very full reference bibliography, of a good part of the contributions in
Atti Ascoli Piceno — Teramo — Ancona. The general treatments given to the theme are brief and
mostly unsatisfactory (Lollini 1976, 159–61, 169; Landolfi 2001b). Marconi (1935), with his consciously
cultural-historical approach, inspired by the principles of the Vienna School of Ethnology, is by now
dated, but was first to have the merit of considering the trade with Etruria (essentially Tyrrhenian) and
its influence and export — as well as that which came at the same period by sea from the Greek and
Near Eastern world — as fundamental to the very formation and development of Picene civilization.
56 Colonna 1992, 2001.
57 Baglione 2001; Camporeale 2003; for the later period also Ambrosini 2003.
58 Gentili 1992; von Eles 2008, 216–24. For the provenance of the two bronze censers from Novilara
see Stopponi 2003, 395, fig. 1.
59 Recently Silvestrini and Sabbatini 2008. Mainly on these latest discoveries Riva 2003; 2005; 2007
(non vidi).
60 On these and the unnoticed destructions which probably largely obliterated them see also most
recently Sabbatini 2009.

valley which, parallel to the Appennines, descends from Sassoferrato61 down towards
San Severino (Fig. 77.4). Greater light is thereby thrown on the rise of the new social
organization in the Picene communities of this geographical sector,62 the nearest to
the mountain passes of communication with Umbria:63 an organization dominated
by powerful local elites, who are characterized by the prompt adoption of many of
the innovations then drawn from the life style and funerary rituals of the Etruscan
and Latin elites, perhaps excluding only writing and the first architectural and town-
planning forms.64 The innovations extended from the banquet and symposium, with
the serving dishes and equipment necessary for this use, to the two-wheeled chariot
for war leaders and women of rank; to furniture, ornaments and weapons of prestige,
sometimes enriched with images echoing the mythological world, the epic poems and
figurative art spread to Italy from Greece; to the more than probable circulation of
master specialists as gifts of friendship between leaders; and to the great dissipation
of wealth itself, finally gathered into the tombs together with the sacrifice of the first
fruits laid down to propitiate the interments. Two aspects of this important develop-
ment, well localized and so decisive for the subsequent growth of the whole Picene
civilization, should be taken account of here, over and above the individual and
indeed numerous imports and imitations of objects that are known by the material
evidence: on one side the great adherence of social behavior and rituals highlighted
from the burials to those that can be found in the mid-Tyrrhenian coastal strip; on
the other side, the absence (until proved otherwise) of similar funerary assemblages,
of an equal level and equally widespread, in the corresponding strip of submon-
tane Umbria, to the west of the Appennine ridge.65 This can only mean that relations
between the peoples of Matelica and Fabriano with the princely orientalizing courts
of the southern-Etruscan (and Faliscan and Latin) centers was to a large part direct
and of a type definitely not precarious and occasional; much less the product of slow
territorial penetration and of reciprocal linked relationships for a more or less com-
mercial purpose. To understand the nature of this better, we could perhaps refer to
the massive seasonal migration towards the countryside near Rome and to coastal
Lazio, documented for the 16th to 20th centuries CE, but a phenomenon of long stand-
61 Unfortunately the results of the 2010 first test diggings in some of the many ring-shaped ditches
of Acquaviva di Cagli, unexpectedly containing a dwelling structure right inside, have weakened
the hope (cf. Baldelli 2008, 251–52), at least for the moment, of seeing the route of spread of this
submontane orientalizing facies rising even further to the north.
62 von Duhn (1939, 202) described the grave goods of Fabriano as of ‘mixed culture’, that is, Umbrian-
Etruscan, and would undoubtedly have applied the same definition also to the grave goods of
Matelica, if not directly to those of San Severino.
63 The orientalizing signs in the rest of the region and along the Adriatic coast seem less strong.
64 Stopponi 2009, 128.
65 Nothing comparable, as far as we know, not even in centers at a greater distance such as Foligno,
Campello, and Spoleto, where a number of similarities in materials are found.

77 The Marches 1491
Fig. 77.4: San Severino, necropolis of Pitino: 1. Oinochoe 2. Ivory pyxis, around 600 BCE.
Ancona, Arch. Mus. (photo courtesy Soprintendenza Archeologia delle Marche)
ing that has structurally characterized the entire mountain economy of the Marches.66
The drain, to the final advantage of the Tyrrhenian centers, was not only of human
resources — men as mercenaries and women as matrimonial exchanges67 — but also of
all the products which the princes of Fabriano, Matelica, and, probably, San Severino,
exploiting their military force and the strategic geographic position of their respec-
tive seats at the center of the region, succeeded in channeling from a good part of the
present-day territory of the Marches, as indicated by the now generalized spread of
substantially the same orientalizing models of composition of grave goods into the
whole Picene civilization from the beginning of the archaic age.68 It is only from the
middle of the sixth century BCE and for a further two centuries thereafter that the
66 See Allegretti 1987.

67 In this way, but for a later period, Colonna 1992, 16–20; 2001. Also other activities, such as pastoral
farming, stock-rearing, and work in the fields and in the first cities in the course of their growth, could
sometimes be the cause of people movement.
68 Piceno IVA of Lollini 1976, 137–50.

Fig. 77.5: Bronze head from Cagli.

First half of the 4th cent. Ancona, Arch. Mus.
(photo courtesy Soprintendenza Archeologia
delle Marche)
progressive substitution of figured Attic vases in the symposium services placed in

the tombs constitutes a further important cultural innovation, due to the discovery of
the landfalls in the Marches, and in particular to that of Numana, on the part of the
Greek merchants who sailed up the Adriatic. But this penetration, commercial and
cultural, that spread anew to the entire region of the Marches, even if with less inten-
sity in the district of Ascoli, did not happen independently from that similar and more
traditional from Etruria, which continues to suggest ‘the Etruscan material insight of
the dead in the tomb’69 and to ensure — both from the Tiber area (with Orvieto at the
head70) and later, also through maritime routes, from the area of the Po — that the
more prominent families of the Picene communities (as also the Greeks) retained the
valuable provision of bronze dishes and furnishings necessary for the symposium
and banquet and that the devotees frequenting the numerous local cult places had
the equally precious bronze votive statuettes (Fig. 77.5).71 The principle, however, that
69 von Duhn 1939, 195.

70 Colonna 1980, 44–49; Baldelli 1991a, 100, n. 2.
71 Baldelli 2002a, 76–79; 2010, 595–96 with bibliography and discussion. In the second of the works
cited we need to add to the list of Etruscan bronze torch holders at least that, lost, from a tomb of
Acquaviva Picena: cf. Baldelli 1995b, 52–53, n. 16.

77 The Marches 1493
‘the (copy of) imported objects does not imply a cultural attribute and even less an
ethnic one of the human group to which it belongs’72 remains firm.
4 The Marches from the fourth to the first cent. BCE

Inasmuch as Pliny’s explicit record of the Etruscans, who replaced the Umbrians
and were hunted by the Gauls, along the coast to the north of Ancona (Plin. HN
3.14.112) has no certain archaeological verification in the stretch of the Marches,73
until the Roman period the two problematic cases of Fermo and the maritime sanc-
tuary of Cupra remain the only cases from which we can infer, with some certainty
or plausibility and on the basis of precise archaeological documentation and his-
torical evidence,74 the real and more or less stable presence of Etruscans in the
Marches.
In the treacherous field of toponymy, in fact, the names Rasenna75 and
Rasenanus76, respectively of a lost locality near Visso and of a late-mediaeval fundus
in the hinterland of Numana, undoubtedly constitute the trace of the ethnic naming
of the Etruscans, but remain locally undatable as to origin and devoid of a known
context of reference, having in any case both passed through a process of ‘Umbria
nization’, like the greater part of the similar names in –ēno / –ēna / –enna77 of the
Italian peninsula.
We need, therefore, to go to the middle of the first century BCE to find an Etrus-
can, in the Etruscan-Latin funeral inscription of Pesaro:78 Laris Cafates, perhaps a
Tarquinian or a Perugian, was a soothsayer, who was therefore able to exercise his
profession even without a minority of his own ethnic group in the city where he died
(Fig. 77.6).79
72 Lollini 1976, 160.

73 So, recently, Colonna 2008, 43, n. 25. A different viewpoint is, however, attempted in Baldelli
2002a, 74–79, with reference to earlier contributions.
74 Insufficient as they are, in that they did not necessarily require to be read, the graffiti from San
Costanzo, similar to alphabetic signs, are on two plates of grey pottery (De Sanctis 1992, figs. 3–4),
probably imported from the Po area. The inscriptions of Novilara, apart from one only, have been
declared modern fakes by Agostiniani (2003), but because of the northern Etruscan alphabet at their
base Colonna (1985, 54–6) had anyway earlier excluded ethnic implications.
75 Devoto 1967, 229; Devoto and Buti 1974, 79, 87.
76 From an earlier Rasēnus: Baldelli 1991a, 100, n. 2.
77 Colonna 2008, 50–52; cf. also Calderini 2001, 81.
78 Benelli 1994, 13–15; 2007, 175–76; Haack 2006, 38–40, no. 18; cf. also Marengo 2010, 36. The
inclusion among the funerary inscriptions is almost unanimously agreed.
79 Differently: Colonna 1984a, 173–76; Morandi 2006, 16 (but cf. 23).

Fig. 77.6: Etruscan-Latin funeral inscription from Pesaro. First cent. BCE. Pesaro, Musei
Oliveriani (photo courtesy Biblioteca-Musei Oliveriani, Pesaro)
Instead, problems of interpretation remains unanswered for the previous period of

the Romanization of the ager Gallicus:
– the participation of Etruscans at the battle of Sentino as allied with Galli and
Samnites, which, while attested by a number of sources (Duris, FGrH II A, F 56,
151; Tzetz., ad Lycophr. Alex. 1318) and remaining plausible from the quantity of
their goldwork,80 bronzes and pottery81 in the tombs of the Senoni, has come to
be denied by many historians;82
– the ethnic belonging of the wearer, in the sepulcher of Monte Rolo, of the helmet
of Montefortino type with the inscription mi spural83, indicating for Sisani only
the public provision on the part of an Etruscan city to one of the soci of the Roman
army of Manius Curius Dentatus;84
80 Coen 1998, but with doubts on the ethnic origin of the women who wore it.
81 Only brief mentions in Landolfi 1985, 450–62; 2001a, 176; 2001b, 219. For an excellent summary cf.
also Shefton 2001, 155–56.
82 Most recently by Brizzi 2008, 22–24.
83 TLE 694; Landolfi 1985, 451, n. 11. The re-contextualizing of the helmet, disappeared after the
unfortunately bad photo published by Giorgi (1954, fig. 16.1–3), was already in Baldelli 1977, 278, n. 4.
Later he supposed (Baldelli 1986, 10) that we are dealing with a loot ending up in a tomb, unknown
just like the other grave goods (cf. Brizio 1901, 642–43), of a Senone (Kruta 1981, fig. 1; Landolfi 1985,
fig. 2; Schönfelder 2010, fig. 1) or indeed of an Umbrian (Reinecke 1940, 42). Sisani 2007 offers no
hypothesis on the nationality.
84 Sisani 2007, 111.

77 The Marches 1495
– the presence in a villa rustica, in the surroundings of Ostra, of individuals coming

from Chiusi, responsible for the Etruscan graffiti θve on the edge of a dolium of
scattered provenance;85
– finally the very recent identification of an Etruscan by now romanized, also prob-
ably originary from the countryside of Chiusi, in the inscription on a funerary
cippus of the protohistoric and then Roman necropolis of Serra Sant’Abbondio.86
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78 Lombardy
Abstract: During the Final Bronze and Early Iron Ages present-day Lombardy was divided into three
distinct cultural entities. In western Lombardy, from Serio and Adda to Ticino, was the Golasecca
culture, which also spanned eastern Piedmont and southern Switzerland (geographically, an Italian
region). Como and Golasecca-Sesto Calende-Castelletto Ticino were the two main centers of this area.
Pre-Alpine and Alpine valleys of the provinces of Brescia and Sondrio belonged to a cultural context
which can only be adequately defined starting from the sixth century BCE with the facies Breno-
Dos dell’Arca. The rock art of Valcamonica and Valtellina is the main source of knowledge for this
area. Finally, the plain crossed by the Oglio, Chiese and Mincio rivers was affected by a succession of
peoples and cultures. In the Final Bronze Age a cultural group closely related to the so-called Proto-
Venetian is documented, as shown by the finds of Casalmoro along the Chiese and Sacca di Goito
along the Mincio. In the ninth and eighth centuries, Paleovenetian cultural aspects are present at
Castellazzo della Garolda, Castiglione Mantovano and Valeggio sul Mincio, but they are also attested
by stray finds scattered all over the area. During the seventh century an initial spreading of Etruscan
cultural aspects along the Oglio river can be detected, while from the mid-sixth century a broader phe-
nomenon of Etruscan colonization took place along the Mincio river, with the foundation of Forcello
of Bagnolo S. Vito and other smaller settlements. The fifth century represents the most flourishing
period of this part of Padan Etruria to the north of the Po. Following the Gaulish invasion of 388 BCE,
the Cenomani occupied the plain from Brescia to Verona and the town of Forcello was abandoned, but
the Etruscans maintained control over the lower course of the Mincio and founded Mantua.
Keywords: Golasecca, Valcamonica, Valtellina, Forcello, Mantua
Introduction
During the Final Bronze and Early Iron Ages present-day Lombardy was divided into
three distinct cultural entities. In western Lombardy, from Serio and Adda to Ticino,
was the Golasecca culture, which also spanned eastern Piedmont and southern Swit-
zerland (geographically, an Italian region). Como and Golasecca-Sesto Calende-Cas-
telletto Ticino were the two main centers of this area. Pre-Alpine and Alpine valleys
of the provinces of Brescia and Sondrio belonged to a cultural context which can only
be adequately defined starting from the sixth century BCE with the facies Breno-Dos
dell’Arca. The rock art of Valcamonica and Valtellina is the main source of knowl-
edge for this area. Finally, the plain crossed by the Oglio, Chiese and Mincio Rivers
was affected by a succession of peoples and cultures (Fig. 78.1). In the Final Bronze
Age a cultural group closely related to the so-called Proto-Venetian is documented,
as shown by the finds of Casalmoro along the Chiese and Sacca di Goito along the
Mincio. In the ninth and eighth centuries, Paleovenetian cultural aspects are present
at Castellazzo della Garolda, Castiglione Mantovano and Valeggio sul Mincio, but
they are also attested by stray finds scattered all over the area. During the seventh
century an initial spreading of Etruscan cultural aspects along the Oglio River can be
1502 Raffaele Carlo de Marinis
Fig. 78.1: Lombardy: map of the sites cited in the text (drawing A. Blaickner)
detected, while from the mid-sixth century a broader phenomenon of Etruscan colo-
nization took place along the Mincio River, with the foundation of Forcello of Bagnolo
S. Vito and other smaller settlements. The fifth century represents the most flourish-
ing period of this part of Etruria to the north of the Po. Following the Gaulish invasion
of 388 BCE, the Cenomani occupied the plain from Brescia to Verona and the town of
Forcello was abandoned, but the Etruscans maintained control over the lower course
of the Mincio and founded Mantua.

78 Lombardy 1503
1 From the ninth to the early seventh century

From the ninth and particularly from the eighth century Villanovan artifacts are
found in the territories to the north of the Po river, including crested helmets, anten-
nae swords of the Tarquinia type or its variants, Veio type horse bits, razors, Bambolo
type end-winged axes, San Francesco and Cortona type socketed axes, thickened bow
fibulae with large catch-plate, small fibulae with a lowered bow of the San Vitale type,
leech fibulae with large catch-plate, and elliptical bronze-sheet belt plaques. In some
cases they are probably local productions that closely recall the Villanovan models.
Villanovan (or Villanovan type) artifacts spread over a wide area, encompassing all
the territories to the north of the Po, even if a greater concentration is discernible in
the Alpine sector of the Adige valley.1 These finds demonstrate the interest Villanovan
Etruscans had in establishing relations with the northern and Alpine territories. Soon
after, however, with the rise of the first protourban center in the district of Como,2
trade and contacts, which originated in Bologna, were directed towards this area.
Thanks to its geographical position, Bologna played a central role in trade towards
the north.
Some finds provide evidence of the relationships between Bologna and Como in
the eighth century. From the settlement on the outskirts of Como comes a fragment of
an elliptical Villanovan belt plaque. In the tomb of the Vigna di Mezzo at Rondineto,
whose grave goods have scarcely survived, there were two twisted horse bits, a pin with
a conical head similar to the Melenzani type, the fragment of a sheet-bronze amphora
decorated with rows of large and very small bosses – probably attributable to the Veii-
Gevelinghausen group (Figs. 44.1 and 44.2) –, and a bronze bident that Giovanni Colonna
has connected with the Etruscan world.3 In the grave-goods of a tomb discovered in 1871
in the area in front of the Villa Giovio at Breccia (Como) a small boot-shaped vase of the
Bologna-Vetulonia-Veii type was found.4 The wagon burial discovered in 1950 at the Ca’
Morta is dated to the Early Orientalizing period (late eighth – early seventh century).
The bronze cast angle-sockets of the two-wheeled chariot comes from beyond the Apen-
nines, the bronze socketed axe belongs to the San Francesco type, the dipper with
lever handle is attributable to a Villanovan type of Bologna, the bronze-sheet amphora
belongs to the Veii-Gevelinghausen group, two bronze flat-ribbed bowls – one mounted
on a Kesselwagen – certainly come from Vetulonia.5 The same type of Etruscan bowl has
1 de Marinis 1986a, 52–5, figs. 15–16; 1988, 107–8, figs. 112–3; 1999a, 604–11, figs. 1–2; 1999b, 537–48,
figs. 17–18; Egg 1992, 154–6, fig. 4.2; Gleirscher 1993–1994; Gambari 1999, 13–5, figs. 4–5. About the
crested helmet from the Tanaro River near Asti see Gambari 2000.
2 In the case of Golasecca culture, “proto-urban” centers took the form of clusters of interdependent
villages distributed over a relatively large area.
3 de Marinis 1975, pl. XIV B; 1988a, 178–9, figs. 146–7; 2001, 50, fig. 8; Colonna 1986, 159, fig. 21.
4 de Marinis 1999a, 611–6.
5 Bertolone 1956–1957; Kossack 1956–1957; de Marinis 1988, 179–80, figs. 150–2; Pare 1992, pl. 132B.

been discovered to the north of the Alps in the tombs of Frankfurt Stadtwald, Poiseul-la-
Ville and Appenwihr (Fig. 44.1).6 Thus, the Golasecca culture began to act as intermedi-
ary between Bologna and the Etruscan world on one side and the western Hallstatt area
on the other. For this period, it is not yet possible to precisely reconstruct trade routes
because of the scarcity and scattered nature of the finds.
2 From the seventh to the mid-sixth century

The relationship between the Etruscans and the Golasecca culture people intensified
from the second quarter of the seventh century. The main role was no longer played
by Como, but by the “proto-urban” area of Golasecca-Sesto Calende-Castelletto
Ticino. The oldest object that documents direct contact with Bologna is an Arnoaldi
type bronze knife, characteristic of the Villanovan IV B1 period7, unfortunately now
without context.8 Later, with the mid and late seventh century, the materials become
more abundant. We can mention a situla with crescent-shaped attachment-plates and
a “light” bucchero kylix of Tom Rasmussen’s 1-c type from Golasecca,9 the greaves of
Archaic Greek type from the “First Warrior” tomb of Sesto Calende,10 the large buc-
cheroid impasto kyathos decorated with Orientalizing animalistic friezes from Sesto
Calende (San Giorgio area) of Vetulonian manufacture,11 the double sheet-bronze
basin decorated with lions with wide open jaws and winged sphinxes from the tomb
of Castelletto Ticino-Motto Fontanile, also of Vetulonian manufacture (Fig. 81.4).
Some grave goods of the latter tomb survived, including a bronze ribbed cylindrical
bucket (It. cista a cordoni) of local manufacture and a clay beaker with a globular
body decorated with helical grooves, while the fragment of an iron multi-head pin
(Ger. Mehrkopfnadel, It. spillone a globetti), now lost, assures us it was a male burial.12
Nothing similar can be documented for the Golasecca I C tombs of the cemeteries
located around Como, in particular at the Ca’ Morta. Therefore, it seems that the new
“proto-urban” center of Golasecca-Sesto Calende-Castelletto Ticino had assumed a
leading role in the management of trade and relations with the Etruscan world. Direct
contact with Bologna is evident, but other considerations suggest that another route
6 Fischer 1979, 128–9, pl. 9.2, pl. 21; Chaume and Feugère 1990. Updated map showing the distribution
of the flat ribbed bowls in de Marinis 2014, fig. 12.
7 According to Bianco Peroni 1976, 37.
8 The knife is published in de Marinis 2001, fig. 9; 2010a, 42, fig. 8.6.
9 See de Marinis 1986a, 57–60, figs. 20 and 22 (top).
10 See de Marinis 1975, 220, pl. III; 1988a, fig. 159.
11 Colonna 1988, 155–7, pls. XLVI–XLVIII.
12 About the tomb, see Gambari in Etruschi a nord del Po, I, 81–4, figs. 33–35; de Marinis 1988,
figs. 163–165. For the Rippenziste see also Stjernquist 1967, no. 101: 1, pl. XXII, 2, pl. LVI, 2, 4. The pin
can be recognized in a photograph of the Castelfranco archive: see de Marinis 2009a, fig. 12.

78 Lombardy 1505
was active, leading from northern Etruria to the Golasecca area without the mediation
of Bologna, and thus passing through the Ligurian territory. During phase Golasecca
I C at Golasecca – but not at Como – the first epigraphic records appeared. The cup
of Sesto Calende (Presualdo area) was discovered in 1937,13 an inscription is on the
interior of a bowl from the Bellini collection,14 and an inscription carved on stone was
discovered in the settlement of Castelletto Ticino, Belvedere area.15 To this we can add
the inscription of Montmorot (Jura), inscribed on a Hallstatt ceramic fragment, while
its palaeographic Lepontic characters must be considered as made by a person from
the area of Golasecca.16 In the subsequent Golasecca II phase, the presence of Lepon-
tic epigraphic documents is still restricted to the Golasecca-Sesto Calende-Castelletto
Ticino area. Among the most important is an inscription on the beaker from tomb
no. 12/1993 at Presualdo, which dates to the G. II A,17 an inscription on the beaker of
tomb no. 5 of via Aronco at Castelletto Ticino, and the stele of Vergiate, a stray find
and therefore without context, but hardly dating to a period later than the end of the
sixth century.18 As Colonna pointed out long ago, writing did not reach Golasecca via
northern Etruria – Bologna – Ticino, but followed a more western route, Southern
Etruria – Northern Etruria – Ligurian territory – Golasecca, as shown by the concur-
rent presence in the most ancient Lepontic epigraphy of the circular dotted theta and
of the sigma with four or six strokes, as well as by the inscription of Vergiate, written
within two horseshoe-shaped lines, which recalls patterns of the Sienese-Volterran
area.19
Concurrently with the increase in Etruscan imports at the center of Castelletto
Ticino, in the plain between Brescia and the Oglio River tombs and settlements related
to a new cultural facies appeared. This facies is not yet well-known, but its appear-
ance seems to be a direct consequence of the expansion of the Etruscans of Bologna in
the direction of the Panaro and Enza and towards the Po during the Villanovan IV B1
and IV B2. The finds – unfortunately all recovered in the nineteenth century, when the
scientific excavations were not yet the norm, or gathered from surface ground during
archaeological surveys – cluster between Chiese and Oglio Rivers, and seem to attest
to an Etruscan penetration to the north of the Po along the course of the Oglio, proba-
bly because the Mincio territory was still firmly controlled by Palaeo-Venetian people.
13 See de Marinis 1986a, 60, fig. 22 (bottom); Colonna 1986, 140–1, fig. 11; Prosdocimi 1989.
14 The find is still unpublished.
15 Gambari 2011, 19 and fig. 3. Gambari reads χ[ό]θι[ο]ς or χ[ο]θι[ο]ι[--]. The reading is not sure.
16 The reading “pris-“/”brigs-“ indicates a well-known theme with a Celtic root, present in the name
of Brixia (now Brescia), the capital of the Cenomani. The context refers to the seventh century. See
Verger 1998.
17 The inscription is difficult to read. Sassatelli 2000; de Marinis 2009b, 423–5, figs. 12–13.
18 Colonna 1986; de Marinis 1991–1992, 206–11, fig. 3; 2009c.
19 Colonna 1986, 152; 1988.

In the municipality of Leno traces of settlements have been discovered in two

nearby locations, Madonna della Stalla and Cascina Fornasetta20. From Quin-
zano d’Oglio come a few fragments of a large amphora decorated with fish scales
(“Anforoni Squamati Group”) of Caeretan manufacture dating to the late seventh
century,21 and from Castel Goffredo comes a bucchero kylix of Rasmussen’s type 3b
(late seventh – early sixth century).22 The most significant discoveries – but also the
most problematic – were made at Remedello Sotto in November 1885 during the exca-
vations carried out by Giovanni Bandieri.23 According to his unpublished report, in
the area between the Gaulish necropolis to the north and the Eneolithic necropolis
to the south two rectangular pit-graves were discovered, oriented east-west, with a
bench placed along the two short sides and the deceased buried in the supine posi-
tion. A few meters further west, on the bottom of a large north-south oriented pit,
three heaps of broken pottery were found at a distance of approximately 4 m from
each other. The pottery is characterized by a light gray impasto and a smooth black
surface similar to that of bucchero; forms include oinochoai with a burnished deco-
ration on the shoulder, olpai, kantharoi with high strap handles of Rasmussen’s 3e
type but having a high ridged stem, kylikes with a deep carinated bowl resembling
the Greek forms of the second quarter of the sixth century, triple hemispherical bowls
with a triple stem. Finally, there are the remains of six large unusually shaped vases.
The body of each vase is decorated with horizontal cordons, the wide and rounded
shoulder has large vertical swellings interspersed with triangular spouts, the bottom
of the vase is hollow and is joined to a high cone-truncated cordoned foot, which is
completely hollow (Fig. 78.2). These vessels were probably covered by lids decorated
with large vertical swellings and a high foot with four curved stems and provided with
a small globular vase at the top. Certainly these vessels had no practical functions in
everyday life, but they must have been used for religious ceremonies or special rites of
purification, being comparable to thymiateria or very elaborate and complex incense
burners. The finds also included a clay statuette of a praying man or offering bearer
almost 20 cm high, with a thick stem 8 cm long meant to be inserted into a support
of some sort, a fragment of another very similar statuette and an elliptical support
with three hollow vertical cylindrical elements, into which statuettes could probably
be affixed. The interpretation of the complex of Remedello Sotto is problematic from
several points of view. Two burials are too few to constitute a necropolis. The presence
of so many incense burners suggests that it was a sacred area connected to purifica-
20 Cattaneo 1995, 46–50.

21 de Marinis 1986a, 61, fig. 23; Colonna 1986, 157–8.
22 Cattaneo 1995, 43.
23 Most of the seventh-sixth century materials from Remedello Sotto, kept in the G. Chierici Museum
in Reggio Emilia, is still unpublished. See de Marinis 1986a, 61–5, 85–6, figs. 24–25, 26.1 and 4, fig. 36;
1999b, 548–51, fig. 21.

78 Lombardy 1507
Fig. 78.2: Remedello Sotto (Brescia), selection of figurine and pots discovered
in 1885. Late 7th – first half 6th cent. BCE. Museo Patrio di Antichità, Reggio Emilia
(Drawings by A. C. Cattaneo)
tion rites and to two exceptional burials. In a brief dig test carried out by Lawrence H.
Barfield in 1986 about 120 m north-west of the excavation by Bandieri a circular ditch
was discovered, with a diameter of 10 m and a V shaped profile, intersected by other
two pits. The fill contained pottery dating to the early decades of the sixth century,
including a complete oinochoe. Unfortunately this excavation has remained unpub-
lished, but it shows that the complex described above was, in fact, larger and dates to
the period of Etruscan expansion in the Po valley.

From the area of the Eneolithic, Final Bronze and Gaulish necropolis of Fonta-
nella Mantovana, about 10 km to the south-west of Remedello Sotto, come incense
burners similar to those of Remedello, but simpler in shape and certainly more recent.
Three hollow-bottomed cordoned ollae, five hollow cordoned truncated-cone feets,
and two lids with a cordoned stem ending with a small globular vase, also hollow,
have survived.24 Excavation data is completely missing.
Despite their problematic nature – largely due to the lack of scientific investiga-
tions –, the finds of the territory between Chiese and Oglio, all dated to the end of
seventh century / first half of the sixth century, testify to the earliest evidence of Etrus-
can penetration north of the Po. Shortly after the mid-sixth century the Etruscans
began a more systematic expansion along the course of the Mincio.
3 Forcello of Bagnolo San Vito (Mantua)

The most important Etruscan center north of the Po River in the sixth and fifth centu-
ries was undoubtedly Forcello of Bagnolo San Vito. It was founded shortly after the
mid-sixth century within the framework of a process of expansion and reorganization
of the Padan Etruria in conjunction with the foundation of Marzabotto and Spina and
the urbanization of Felsina, as well as the foundation of several other minor centers
in central-western Emilia and along the Po of Adria.
Forcello is located a few kilometers south-east of Mantua, close to the right mor-
phological escarpment of the paleo-bed of the Mincio River, on a small mound where
the gravely alluvium ends and the sandy-silty one of the lower course of the river
begins. Paleo-ecological research conducted since 2008 by Cesare Ravazzi and his
team has allowed us to reconstruct the characteristics of the environment at the time
of the settlement’s foundation.25 A series of coring undertaken both in the area of the
settlement and 100 m further east in the paleo-valley of the Mincio up to a depth of
4 m revealed a sequence of fluvial sands, followed around the fourteenth-thirteenth
centuries BCE by peaty deposits of palustrine origin and, starting from the eighth-
seventh centuries, by lacustrine sediments rich in freshwater mollusks and almost
2 m thick.26 Forcello, therefore, was founded on the banks of a lake that stretched
from Pietole to Roncoferraro for more than 5 km, which in front of the settlement was
24 de Marinis 1984, 20–1, fig. 6.

25 De Amicis, Marchetti and Ravazzi 2011; Deaddis, Margaritora, Perego, Ravazzi, and Zanon 2011;
Ravazzi et alii 2011.
26 The formation of the lake of Bagnolo is likely related to the flood of Guastalla, which occurred at
the beginning of Sub-Atlantic period, and led to the abandonment of the branch of Bondeno (active
during the Bronze Age) and caused the so-called Po Vecchio to become active (which continued after
the confluence of the Mincio as Po of Adria).

78 Lombardy 1509
almost 2 km wide. The lake of Bagnolo was still active in Roman and medieval times,
as evidenced by the radiocarbon dating of the cores and historical sources. It was
gradually reclaimed thanks to the hydraulic works of the Pitentino (1188–1190 CE),
which led to the current layout of Mantua’s lakes, and then with the embankments of
the lower reaches of the Mincio in the early sixteenth century CE.27
The location was chosen because it was favorable to river trade and for the pres-
ence of an elongated rise, stretching for about 1 km in a northwest-southeast direction
and with a maximum width of 500 m, which at the time of the arrival of the Etruscan
settlers must have had a maximum height of 14.8 masl, while the water level of the
lake must have been approximately 13.6 m. The mound on which Etruscan Mantua
rose in the fourth century had a greater elevation only in a few points – approximately
1 m –, but was considerably smaller in size.
The Etruscan city of Forcello, so far unnamed, had a triangular shape, with a
460 m long base oriented northeast-southwest, a 550 m perpendicular height, and
with the tip located to the southeast. At this important archaeological site, discov-
ered in 1979, research and excavations have been carried out for over thirty years.
From mechanical and geophysical investigations conducted in 1980, 1981 and 1983
and from surface collections it has been possible to determine that the settlement
stretched around 12–13 ha. Like all newly founded centers, Forcello seems to have
had a regular urban structure, orthogonal and planned from the beginning. In fact,
every dwelling excavated so far – even those that belong to different chronological
phases – are always oriented northeast-southwest. They are parallel to the northwest-
ern rampart and perpendicular to what must have been the main road, 15 m wide, that
crossed the entire town with a southeast-northwest orientation, and ended exactly in
the middle of the north-western side.28
It is very difficult to read the Forcello’s stratigraphy due to the building materials
used. In the absence of stone, which is totally lacking in the low plain, houses were
built of perishable material, such as wood, reeds, straw, unfired and sun-dried clay,
and mostly carbonate silt. Following the natural collapse or catastrophic events (fre-
quent fires), the houses underwent periodic maintenance and reconstruction works,
leaving difficult to read stratigraphy.
The geomorphological setting of the area – located within a broad basin that was
formed at that point by the paleo-valley of the Mincio River – certainly enhanced the
potential of the settlement as a river port but also exposed it to the danger of peri-
odic flooding. Therefore, to defend the town against these events, it was bounded and
protected by an embankment, an agger terreus, well-preserved along the northwest
side of the settlement (where it is 8 m wide at the base), which was surmounted by
27 de Marinis 1991, 75–85.

28 de Marinis 1986a, 140–150; de Marinis 2007, 25–34.

a wooden palisade on top and another along its external front. Following episodic
floods, the earthwork was periodically rebuilt throughout the settlement’s existence.29
On the other two sides, the existence of a rampart is recognizable through the
slight undulation of the ground, although less markedly than along the northwestern
side, where a clear morphological escarpment had preserved.30 Some time during the
first half of the fifth century, probably around 480/475, there was a major flood. The
waters of the Mincio River overflowed the embankment, depositing 60 cm of sand
well inside the settlement. Following this flood, a new embankment was built from
mud bricks further back but also higher by about a meter, because in the meantime an
anthropic layer had already formed, significantly raising the level of the settlement.
Inside the settlement or on its outskirts there had to be a religious building or a
cult place of some sort, that might be found in the south-easternmost part. The evi-
dence of this consists of a fragment of a pillar altar made of trachyte and an inscrip-
tion incised on the underside of an Attic black-glazed skyphos, both found in area V
10–11.31 The inscription bears a formula that forbids appropriation (ei menpe kape
mi pr [---] aituś), and is traced in an “italicizing” writing style, which according to
Adriano Maggiani was used in sanctuaries during the fifth century. Also in the same
area a small clay female head of probable Greek manufacture was found32. To the
northeast the base of a bowl was collected on the surface after plowing. The inner
surface of the foot of the bowl bears a bimembral onomastic inscription made before
firing (anthuś.markeś); the binomial formula with forename and gentilicium and the
impression before firing demonstrate the particular importance of the person and the
votive character of the inscription.33 Many schematic figurines of worshippers, cast
or cut from a bronze sheet, have been found at Forcello in area R–S 17–18 and belong
to different phases of the settlement’s history.34 They come from fillings or “bonifica”
layers, and thus have a secondary provenance, but in some cases they were recovered
from primary contexts, like the cast bronze figurine found in room 1 of house F II,
dated to the late sixth – early fifth century.
What makes Forcello unique among the centers of Padan Etruria is the thick-
ness of its archaeological stratification, which reaches up to 2 m and refers to several
chronological phases, corresponding to phases of construction, destruction and
reconstruction of dwellings. Excavations carried out in the center of the settlement
(areas Q–R–S 17–18–19), which in some places reached the undisturbed soil and there-
29 Hummler, Carver 1986; Casini, de Marinis, Fanetti 1999; Casini and de Marinis 2007, 35–8.
30 Today it is not as clearly visible as in the early 1980s, due to the leveling caused by agricultural
works.
31 de Marinis 1986a, 120, fig. 47 no. 241; 2007, 56–9.
32 Maggiani 1998; Frontini 1986, 286, fig. 176.
33 de Marinis 1986a, 119, fig. 47 no. 240; 2007, 56, fig. 21.1.
34 de Marinis 1986a, 282–4. Many finds are still unpublished.

78 Lombardy 1511
fore the period of foundation, have revealed a sequence of nine main phases, labeled
with letters from the top (phase A, the most recent) down (phase I, the oldest).35
During the settlement’s history extensive fires occurred, destroying the houses,
particularly in phases F and C. In both cases, the destruction and collapse layer was
sealed by sterile clay or waste materials, used to reclaim the area and create a new
ground level on which dwellings could be rebuilt. Because of this all the materials
that were present in the houses have been preserved in situ, albeit heavily fragmented
and often warped by the heat of fire. This is therefore a lucky and rare example of
material found in a primary context. The collapse layer pertaining to the phase F is
the better investigated one. Currently, another important collapse layer is under exca-
vation, referring to phase C (second quarter of the fifth century), a few meters away
from the houses of phase F.
Little has been known about phase I until now. Phase I coincides with founda-
tion (around 540–530) and it is dated by fragments of Little Masters band cups and
lekythoi (third quarter of the sixth century). During phase H, which yielded fragments
of Cassel cups (530–520), an outdoor workshop with facilities for smelting and metal-
working was active in area R18, replaced in phase G by a large house, which has been
investigated over an area of approximately 90 sq m. Phase G yielded a black-figured
lekythos attributed to the Cock Group (around 520–510), which had been reused in the
drainage feature for the hearth. Not long after, the building of phase G was disman-
tled, and the area was cleaned and levelled by laying a silty layer on top of which the
houses of phase F were rebuilt with an identical layout. Destroyed by fire shortly after
500, the debris were sealed under a thick sterile clay layer, on which an outdoor craft
area was created with numerous hearths and even more numerous small pit forges for
metalworking (phase E, around 495–485).
In the area surrounding the pit forges and the hearths, iron slags and scraps,
bronze chips, small sheets, small bronze bars and ingots, fragments of tuyères and
moulds, and deer-horn chisels and gouges were found. After the ground was levelled
again, a new house was built (phase D), with a layout different from that of the pre-
vious phases, whose structure is very poorly preserved. After it was dismantled, the
phase C house was built (around 475–450), measuring 12.3 × 5.2 m, whose perimeter
is defined by large postholes. The house comprises a large room that is 10 m long
and a smaller one, separated by a wooden partition. The first room features a central
fireplace and, on the northwestern side, a vertical loom, whose existence is attested
by the discovery of 150 loom weights. In the house were found 186 oval bodied ollae,
containing charred fava beans, wheat, barley, lentils and peas. This building, which
was perhaps used as a workshop and storeroom, was also destroyed by a massive fire,
the remains of which were sealed with a layer of earth and waste materials.
35 de Marinis et al. 1994; de Marinis 1986a, 156–162; 1992, 241–2, 251–5; Casini and de Marinis 2007;
Casini, Longhi, Rapi 2007; de Marinis 2010b.

The latest phases (A–B), almost completely destroyed by agricultural work, have
yielded only fragments of floors, hearths, slots for timbers that supported mud brick
walls and tiled roofs, as documented by the discovery of fragments of semi-cylindri-
cal tiles, sometimes painted, and the remains of an antefix.36
The houses were rectangular and had internal wooden partitions, resting on foun-
dation timbers housed in slots. Most houses had rammed clay floors, but were some-
times made of hard silt. Roofs must have been double-pitched, and, except for during
the latest phases, covered with thatch. Inside the houses were one or more hearths,
mostly located in the center of the rooms and consisting of pits lined with insulating
materials such as shards, pebbles, stones and a layer of clay and silt. During phases
D, F and G, dwellings were built entirely of wood, probably with the Blockbau tech-
nique, although some walls of the phase F structures were made of wattle and daub.
In phase C, the large postholes and large amount of fired daub with wattle impres-
sions show that the load-bearing structures were made of by wooden poles support-
ing the roof and wattle and daub walls (parietes craticii).
3.1 Phase F
The investigation of phase F in areas Q–R–S 18–19 ended during the 2011 excavation
campaign, when the perimeters, covering a total area of 450 m2, of two houses were
brought to light. House F I was an aristocratic residence, and although the other house
contained a wealth of imported objects, it included a workshop for coral working,
spinning and weaving and honey collection from the hives, as evidenced by the dis-
covery of great amounts of bee bread and remains of honeycombs (F II).37
Along the northeastern and southwestern sides, the complex of the two houses
was delimited by channels, that sloped from northwest to southeast, and that ran into
a channel bordering the southeastern side. Their function was to drain and discharge
rainwater and sewage. The southeastern channel most likely ran into the pair of large
channels of the main road that crossed the entire town, which was 15 m wide and
oriented northwest-southeast. Houses F I and F II were separated by a channel 2.0
to 2.4 m wide, which also sloped northwest-southeast and ran into the southeastern
channel (Fig. 78.3).
A passageway flanked the northwestern side of the two houses which has been
only partially excavated. The passage along the southeastern side was smaller and
36 Casini and de Marinis 2007, fig. 12.

37 For a preliminary report see de Marinis 1992, 2010b; de Marinis et al. 1994; Casini, Longhi and Rapi
2007; Rapi 2007, 95–110. The finds relating to the honey collection are still unpublished. By means of
scanning microscope you can see the remains of the bees in the cells. New data on the Greek pottery
from the F I and F II houses in de Marinis 2016.

78 Lombardy 1513
Fig. 78.3: Forcello. 1. Digitized plan of the phase F in areas Q-R-S 18-19
overlooked the channel that flew toward the major road of the settlement. The two
houses covered an area of 275 sq m, and considering also the channel that divided
them, the extension of the housing complex reached 314 sq m.
House F I is made up of five rectangular rooms, arranged next to each other and
with the major axis oriented northeast-southwest; each room was flanked along the
two short sides by smaller rectangular rooms, which were service or storerooms. The
entrance must have been on the northwestern side. All large rooms except one were
equipped with a hearth, located in the center in two cases and against the wall in the
other two which included the south-easternmost room most likely the kitchen. The
whole house covered an area of 175 sq m.
The number, shape and size of the rooms differentiate house F II from F I, as does
in part the building technique. House F II was made up of a large rectangular room

located to the northwest, that covered an area of almost 50 m2, and whose southwest-
ern side yielded collapsed fired daub with many wattle impressions; a large room of
38 m2, with a centrally placed hearth of 2.1 × 1.8 m (the largest in the entire phase F
complex); and a smaller service room to the southeast. The whole house is 100 sq m in
extent. The floors in the biggest room seem to have been used as work-surfaces, being
very blackened in parts, burnt and reddened in others. The ditch that borders the
northwestern short side of the house features a series of postholes along, arranged
regularly, at intervals of 85 cm.
The connection between the two houses is still unclear as it is still unknown –
although it seems likely – whether they formed a single functional unit, a real aristo-
cratic oikos.
At Marzabotto, a center perfectly contemporary with Forcello, the houses had a
front section of about 180 sq m, divided into various rooms of different sizes, and a
broader rear section with a central cruciform courtyard, equipped with a well and
flanking rooms. So far no comparison has been found for the model offered by the
settlement at Forcello for the late sixth century, and therefore it constitutes both a
valuable document for understanding Etruscan domestic architecture and an inter-
esting case study.38
The aristocratic character of the phase F houses is shown by their size and
layout, as well as by the quality and quantity of materials recovered. In addition to
large amounts of fine tableware (bowls, small plates, large and deep bowls, footed
vases, olpai, jugs), kitchenware and storage vessels characterized by a coarse-grained
impasto – globular and ovoid ollae, large cordoned vases, cordoned dolii, cooking pots
with and without inner flange, lids, two stoves –, a large quantity of Greek pottery was
recovered. In room 11 of house F I was a black-figured column krater, attributable to
the Leagros Group, dated to the late sixth century. On its primary side it depicts the
scene of Achilles ambushing Troilos and Polyxena, who runs away leaving her hydria,
and on its secondary side Dionysos with a procession of satyrs and maenads.39 There
were also some type C kylikes belonging to the Frühgruppe after Bloesch, and three
lekythoi, one referable to the Cock Group and one with opposite palmettes separated
by a braid. Other type C kylikes were found in the house, particularly in room 3, while
a black-figured lekythos of the Class of Athens 581/I, with two hoplites and two women
wrapped in their mantles, comes from room 4, the kitchen. Also found in the house F I
were seven Greek trade amphorae and one fractional amphora. Three Thasian ampho-
rae, of the type Silenus Gate after Grandjean (1992), and one fractional amphora were
found between rooms 8 and 11 and the service room 9, where there were also a Corin-
38 A comparison can be done with the houses in the southwestern corner of the Heuneburg period IVc
(Gersbach 1995). Although these structures are older than the phase F houses of Forcello, they could
still go back to a model of Mediterranean origin (Quirino 2011).
39 de Marinis 2010b, 103–7, figs. 7–9; Wiel Marin 2011, 393–9.

78 Lombardy 1515
thian B amphora and an Ionian-Massaliote amphora. Another Thasian amphora was

in room 3 and the fragments of a second Corinthian amphora were scattered on the
floor between the service room 1 and 9.40 Among the highly valuable materials should
be mentioned a silver fibula coated with gold leaf, of the type with the bow sloping
towards the catch-plate, which was found in room 11,41 and a green jasper scarab of
Greek-Cypriot manufacture from room 8.42 The basal face bears an engraved depic-
tion of the god Bes facing a lion. The scarab is perforated along its length by a hole
through which a gold or silver thread must have passed forming a swivel setting, and
must have hung around the neck. It was used as a seal to be impressed on wax or
unbaked clay, as a sign of possession or a real signature. Traces of a prolonged use
indicate that he had perhaps been handed down from father to son for a couple of
generations.
In the kitchen (room 4) a stove, four querns and three grinders made of trachyte
from the Euganean Hills, an iron knife, a mortar, a Paleovenetian small olla and the
black-figured lekythos were found. In the adjacent service room, a lot of ring-shaped
loom weights and several oval bodied storage jars mainly containing broad bean
seeds (Vicia faba minor) were found.
The large rectangular room of house F II yielded a considerable amount of trun-
cated pyramid shaped loom weights, hundreds of unworked coral branches, a tall
pedestalled Paleovenetian bowl decorated with horizontal red- and black-painted
bands separated by narrow cordons. From the room with the large fireplace in the
center and the adjacent service area come another Thasian transport amphora of the
type “Silenus Gate”, a black-figured eye-cup with a jumping leveret depicted on both
sides, a Heron-Class skyphos, some black-glazed cups of the Bloesch C type, the frag-
ments of a black-figured lekythos with the figure of a hoplite, an amphoriskos deco-
rated in the Fikellura style, numerous small stemmed plates with a broad horizontal
rim and an overpainted decoration on the interior, a Paleovenetian cup with an up-
raised handle.
The bronze artifacts are often unrecognizable, having been melted in whole or in
part. A fragment of a twisted handle testifies to the presence of a situla or a cist in the
kitchen of house F I. From room 1 of house F II comes the fragment of a votive bronze
figurine, from the service room 6 of house F I a rectangular belt buckle. Fibulae were
found in almost every rooms, including Certosa type fibulae, fibulae with the bow
sloping towards the catch-plate, serpentine and leech fibulae. They all belong to the
Este III middle – Golasecca II B chronological horizon.
40 See de Marinis 2007b, figs. 109.4, 111.1, 113–117.

41 de Marinis 2007b, fig. 155.9.
42 Gagetti 2007.

Once the restoration and study of the large number of recovered artifacts is com-
plete, it will be possible to better define the function of the rooms on the basis of the
materials found in situ, in their original locations.
Thanks to the analysis of the retrieved animal remains, and of the seeds, fruits
and charcoal, the study of the primary economy is under way, but preliminary results
are already available. Ninety-nine percent of paleobotanical remains belong to cul-
tivated species, including the already mentioned broad beans, and foxtail millet,
millet, emmer, spelt, bread wheat, barley, oat, rye, lentils, peas, legumes and indeter-
minate cereals. The discovery of several cloves of garlic (Allium sativum L.) that have
preserved by charring in fire is exceptional.43 The discovery of an olive pit suggests
that one or more Greek transport amphorae contained olives instead of wine. Among
the faunal remains the pig predominates, but the bones of cattle, goat, sheep, fish ver-
tebrae (especially pike) and bones of domesticated fowl, probably chicken, are also
present.44
Approximately half a century later than phase F, phase C is also characterized by
levels of collapse caused by fire and sealed by layers of clay or debris. In 1983 and 1985
a house was excavated in area R 18, which was called the “house of loom weights”;45
more recently, another dwelling has been unearthed in area R 19, and finally in Sep-
tember 2011 the excavation of another structure in area R 17 began. Here, a 80 sq m
surface pertaining to a house destroyed by fire was exposed. After the removal of
the remains of the collapsed wattle and daub walls, a gray-black carbonaceous layer
emerged, resting directly on the dwelling’s living surface. Both the collapse and car-
bonaceous layers contained a lot of materials, in particular sherds, many of which
pertain to Attic red-figured and black-glazed vessels. Of the over 1000 fragments of
Attic pottery recovered so far, about 200 are from a red-figured column krater, which
has been almost fully reassembled. The rim is flat, the concave-profiled hanging part
of the rim is decorated with a stylized ivy pattern. On the neck there is an ornamental
frieze of lotus buds linked by stem arcs on one side. Vertical bands decorated with
highly stylized ivy patterns frame the two figured body panels. Side A depicts five
figures, from left to right: a standing bearded man holding a stick, with a petasus
turned back on his shoulders and a cloak that leaves his legs bare, another bearded
man sitting on a rock, dressed in the same manner, raising his bent left leg with his
hands, and wearing shoes marked with a network pattern; both look to the right and
in front of them is a young man, turned to the left, who holds a stick and seems to
be talking to the two bearded men. Next is a young man facing right, with his bare
shoulder and the right arm bent, having a conversation with a young man draped in a
43 Castellano and Perego 2011.

44 The fauna from phase F is under study by Umberto Tecchiati, Bolzano, whom I thank for a
preliminary report.
45 de Marinis 1986a, 150–3, fig. 66–71; Tuzzato 1986; Casini and de Marinis 2007, 40–8, figs. 13, 17–18.

78 Lombardy 1517
mantle and turned to the left. On side B is a scene of conversation among three young
men. Based on a preliminary assessment, pending the cleaning and restoration, the
krater, attributable to the Orchard painter, can be dated around 470–460.
Over 200 fragments, which have been partially joined, belong to a second
column krater, larger than the other and attributable either to the Boreas painter
(470–460) or the Florence painter (465–450), whom Beazley considered “brothers”.
A red-figured cup has been partly reassembled by twenty fragments, it is a late work
by Makron (480–470). Other sherds belong to black-glazed cups, including many
bowls with thickened rims, rounded on top and projecting outwards, or to skyphoi.
Among the skyphoi one is a so-called hybrid and according to comparison with
some specimens from the Agorà dates to 480–450. Finally, there was an oinochoe in
the form of a female head, which has been assigned to the later production of Group
N after Beazley (around 470). The possibility of joining the fragments shows that,
after the catastrophic event, all the materials were left in situ and sealed by earthen
layers. In conclusion the Attic pottery has provided valuable data for the absolute
dating of phase C (second quart of the fifth century), to which the burned structure
belongs.
3.2 Commercial character of the settlement
The distinct commercial character of Forcello settlement is evidenced by its favora-

ble geographical position at the confluence of two major traffic routes. The first of
these was the land route that started from the inland Etruria cities, crossed the Apen-
nines and passed through Marzabotto and Bologna. The other was the sea route that
reached the Adriatic from the Aegean sea, took advantage of the ports of Adria and
Spina and continued along the waterways to the heart of the Po Valley before heading
towards the Alpine passes. The quantity of foreign goods emphasizes the importance
of trade activities.
Clear evidence of such long-distance traffic is provided by the large amount of
Attic pottery and Greek transport amphorae that have been found from every phase
of the settlement. The transport amphorae come from different production centers:
there are Thasian, Mendean, Chian, Samian and Milesian amphorae, amphorae of
the so-called Ionian-Massaliote type, Corinthian A, A 1 and B amphorae, “à la brosse”
and Solokha I type amphorae (Fig. 78.4).46
Corinthian type B amphorae, manufactured at Kerkyra or in Magna Graecia,
are present from the earliest to the most recent phases, in the early fourth century.
Corinthian A 1 and A amphorae appear from the second quarter of the fifth century.
46 About the Greek trade amphorae from Forcello see de Marinis 1986a, 211–224; 1996, 317–348;
2007b, 157–189.

Fig. 78.4: Types of Greek trade amphoras from Forcello. 1. Thasian, type Porta
del Sileno; 2. Corinthian B; 3–4, Chios, early bulgy type; 5–6, à la brosse;
7. Corinthian B; 8. Chios; 9. Corinthian A; 10. Milesian; 11–12 Solokha 1 type;
13. Samian; 14. Late Mendean type. Scale: 1/10 nat. size
(Drawings by R.C. de Marinis)

78 Lombardy 1519
Amphorae “à la brosse” are only documented by a few specimens, some of which

refer to phase E, whereas others come from secondary contexts. Five Thasian storage
jars of the “Silenus Gate” type, dating to the late sixth / early fifth century, come
from the phase F dwellings. Mendean amphorae are frequent at Forcello from the
mid-fifth century to the early fourth century. Eastern Greek trade amphorae seem to
be absent in the earliest phases. The “early bulgy” type Chian amphorae are docu-
mented by several specimens dating from the early to mid-fifth century. Samian and
Milesian amphorae span from the beginning to the end of the fifth century / early
fourth century. Solokha I type amphorae, now related to a southern Aegean center,
are attested only in the final phases of the settlement’s life.
Many thousands of Attic pottery fragments were recovered at Forcello. The inven-
tory is not yet complete, but it is nevertheless possible to make some rough estimates.
In most cases sherds pertain to non-figured black pottery, mainly kylikes and skyphoi.
The figured pottery represents at least one quarter of the total amount, even if we
must consider that it is often not possible to determine whether a fragment came from
a figured or a black-glazed vase. Regarding the shapes, kylikes are the most frequent,
followed by skyphoi and kraters, kantharoi, lekythoi, bowls, small bowls, salt cellars,
lekanai and lekanai lids. There are only a few specimens of oinochoai and olpai. One
fish plate and one black-figured epinetron have been recorded so far. Closed forms,
like amphorae, hydriai, stamnoi and pelikai, are not documented with certainty. The
most common shapes are therefore those used for wine consumption, including cups,
skyphoi and kantharoi for drinking and kraters for mixing wine with water.47
The black-figured pottery spans the earlier phases of the settlement, from I to
E. Phases H and I yielded fragments of Little Masters, Droop and Kassel cups. The
column krater of the Leagros Group, the eye cup and the black-figured lekythoi of
phase F have already been discussed. There are many Floral Band cups, both the
oldest types, featuring palmettes with united petals separated by engravings and
superposed violet paint (530–500), and the latest types, from phase E or from second-
ary contexts (500–475). From phase E also comes a fragment of a black-figured krater
decorated with a chariot wheel design. A fragment of a band-cup with a satyr head
dates to 540–530, a fragment of a Leafless Group cup (490), as well as few specimens
of cup-skyphoi of the Haimon Group’s late production (480–470), were found in sec-
ondary contexts.
The first red-figured pottery made its appearance at Forcello in Phase F (late sixth –
beginning of fifth century). It consists of a few fragments of a tondo edged with a
meander pattern, whose adoption occurred a few years before the end of the sixth
century. Several specimens of Archaic red-figured cups that date to around 500 or to
the early fifth century, come from phase E or from secondary contexts. Among them
47 About the Attic pottery from Forcello see de Marinis 1986a, 156–161; 2007b, 114–130; 2010b, figs. 4,
7–11, 15–16; E. Paribeni 1986; Wiel Marin 2007, 2008, 2011.

Fig. 78.5: Forcello, phase E. Red-figured cup with

figure of a Scythian archer, attributable to Epiktetos
or to the proto-Panaitian group. 500–490 BC
(Photo by R. C. de Marinis)
stands out for its relevance a cup with a kneeling Scythian archer who is trying an
arrow, which can be attributed either to Epiktetos or to Proto-Panaitios (Fig. 78.5). A
cup decorated by a courtship scene and attributed to the latest production of Makron
(480–470) has already been discussed.
Many fragments of columns, volute and calyx kraters survive from the early Clas-
sical period. Among them are some joined sherds that come from a calyx krater with
a scene of a duel in front of a fallen warrior, attributable to the group of the Niobid
painter (470–460). Several kylikes have been found that belong to the same period
and have been attributed to Hermonax, the Telephus painter, the Tarquinia painter or
the school of Makron. Unfortunately, these materials come from secondary contexts.
Many fragments of kylikes and skyphoi of the Classical and late Classical periods
have been found among domestic debris or strata from the settlement’s later phases.
Owl-skyphoi and St. Valentin kantharoi are also frequent. The latest Attic vases date
to the first quarter of the fourth century. Among them we find a skyphos of the Fat Boy
group.
As for trade and the contacts the Etruscans of Forcello had, we cannot fail to
mention the discovery of seventeen Late Hallstatt fibulae and four Early La Tène
fibulae.48 The Ha D 3 fibulae (doppel Paukenfibeln, Fusszierfibeln and doppel Zierfi-
beln) belong to phases E, D and C, whereas the La Tène fibulae belong to phases C
and B. These fibulae show that Forcello was frequented by Celts coming mainly from
Burgundy and southwestern Germany. Golasecca II B and III A pottery and bronze
48 de Marinis 2007b, 206–11, fig. 130.

78 Lombardy 1521
objects attest the relationships with the area of the Golasecca culture, in particular
with Como;49 some Rhaetian artifacts are also present.
3.3 The necropolises
The data is still incomplete concerning funerary rites. In the nineteenth century
burials were discovered in several gravel and sand pits in the municipality of Rivalta
sul Mincio, including the pit near Corte Collefiorito.50 In 1877 a tomb was discovered
that contained a pedestalled vessel, a bronze arm ring, a silver Certosa fibula, an
elliptical belt plaque, as well as other objects that are no longer identifiable. The belt
plaque has the same shape of the Este type specimens, but its decoration is com-
pletely different: a group of thirty-two compass-drawn concentric circles arranged in
vertical rows, are framed by geometric patterns impressed with a punch. The tombs
of Rivalta yielded Etruscan-Padan pottery, Certosa fibulae – all dating to the second
half of the fifth or early fourth century –, a ring with small globules of the Golasecca
III A type, an Attic owl-skyphos, a black-glazed lekythos, an Attic oinochoe in the form
of a female head referable to Beazley’s T group, a polychrome glass alabastron, and a
bronze situla of the so-called Rhenish-Ticinese type.
A funerary provenance is to be assumed for the Schnabelkannen found at Corte
Romane and in the Cavalletto canal, respectively to the southeast and to the south-
west of Forcello.51 In 2003, three inhumation burials and four cremation tombs were
discovered at Ca’ Rossina di Bagnolo San Vito, to the south of Forcello. Among the
grave goods were a black-figured lekythos, Etruscan-Padan pottery, silver serpentine
and Certosa fibulae, amber and glass beads.52 In the past, a cremation burial with
dolio had been found at Righelli (Bagnolo San Vito). Inhumation burials have been
recently discovered at Cerese (Arginotto area) and at San Giorgio Mantovano (Valdaro
area).53 Further west, at Corte Alta Cerese along the right bank of the river Oglio, an
Etruscan inhumation necropolis, that had been largely destroyed by quarrying works,
was partly excavated in 1990. Among the materials recovered was an Attic stemless
cup with a finely engraved decoration with two rosettes inscribed into each other,
dating to the mid-fifth century.54 Overall, the funerary evidence indicates that, even if
inhumation prevailed, the Etruscans who inhabited the territories to the north of the
Po River practiced biritualism, just as in Bologna.
49 Casini 1986, 241–2; de Marinis 2007b, 204–6, fig. 129.1–11.

50 de Marinis 1984, 32–3, figs. 7, 10, 21, 22; 1986a, 288–99.
51 Casini 1986, 238–41, figs. 143–144.
52 Menotti 2011, 10–1.
53 Menotti 2011, 13–14.
54 For the type see Böhr 1988, figs. 100–102 and 106–107.

The creation of an important bridgehead to the north of the Po along the course
of the Mincio and the foundation of the Genoa’s emporium intensified Etruscan trade
with the Golasecca culture and north of the Alps with the Celts, through the Alpine
passes. In the tombs of Golasecca III A at the Ca’ Morta and in other cemeteries around
Como we find bronze vessels of Etruscan manufacture (Schnabelkannen, stamnos-
situlae, basins, kyathoi, ribbed cylindrical buckets with fixed handles of Felsinean
type) and, in some cases, Attic and Etruscan-Padan pottery.55 The stamnos-situlae
were used as funerary urns, whereas the Schnabelkannen as grave offerings.56 In the
cemeteries around Bellinzona many Schnabelkannen have been found, but stamnos-
situlae are lacking.57 In the large proto-historic settlement in the surroundings of
Como Attic pottery is relatively frequent, unlike in the graves. At Prestino-via Isonzo
(Como) a drachma from Populonia was also found, that belong to the earliest series
with the Gorgoneion figure. It probably arrived via the Genoa-Milan-Como route.58
The most ancient archaeological stratification in Milan date back to the Golasecca
III A and yielded fragments of Attic pottery. The picture of Etruscan imports in the
Golasecca culture is completed by a bronze cast socket fitting of a diphros from the
G. III A cemetery at Cuggiono, a type studied by Alessandro Naso, who suggests that
the folding seat in Etruria was a symbol of authority.59
4 The end of Forcello and the foundation of Mantua

According to the dates of the latest Attic pottery found there, the abandonment of
the town of Forcello, whose ancient name is unknown, must have occurred, as for
many other centers of the Padan Etruria, in the early decades of the fourth century.
The coincidence with the Gaulish invasion of 388 BCE might not be an haphazard
circumstance. Unfortunately the upper part of the archaeological deposit has been
destroyed by agricultural work and destruction by violence cannot be ascertained.
Pliny the Elder comes immediately to mind (Plin. HN 3, 125), who relates the dra-
matic events following the Gaulish invasion. The Etruscan town identified through
the archaeological investigations at Forcello might be recognised in the Melpum opu-
lentia praecipuum “destroyed by Insubres, Boi and Senones in the same day when
Camillus captured Veii”.
55 de Marinis 1981, 2007a, 2008.

56 A possible exception is the Schnabelkanne from Brembate Sotto, grave 11: see de Marinis 1981,
136–7, pl. 16–17.
57 de Marinis 2000, 379–90.
58 de Marinis 1982, 506–9, pl. 71b; 1988, fig. 190.
59 Naso 2006, 374–6, 402–6; 2013.

78 Lombardy 1523
The Gaulish invasion led to the collapse of the Padan Etruria, but the lower course
of the Mincio remained in the control of the Etruscans, who founded Mantua, trans
Padum Tuscorum sola reliqua (Plin. HN 3, 130), and further south the Castellazzo della
Garolda, active throughout the fourth and the first half of the third century. Another
contemporary smaller Etruscan center was located on the right bank of the Mincio at
Bagnolo San Vito, where the parish church is now located.
The Etruscan city of Mantua covered approximately the same area as the sub-
sequent Roman city, the parva Mantua mentioned in the ancient sources. In fact,
its size, estimated at approximately 5–6 ha, was smaller than that of Forcello. In all
the excavations carried out inside the ancient city (piazza Sordello, piazza Paradiso,
Casa del Rigoletto, Vicolo Pace, Palazzo Ducale-Cortile degli Orsi), the virgin soil has
always been encountered below the fourth century levels.60 The only exception is the
recent excavation in Santa Barbara square, where older levels were detected.61 Materi-
als dating to the fifth century were also recovered in the area known as “gli Angeli”,
on the western outskirts of Mantua. Along the entire course of the Mincio towards
the north, there must have been several small centers which marked the stages of the
river route.
The excavations carried out in the historic center of Mantua in the last 30 years –
unfortunately almost entirely unpublished – have revolutionized our knowledge
about the city’s origins and have provided valuable information about northern
Italian trade during the fourth and third centuries.62
The picture is very different from that of the previous period. Trade with Greece
had not been interrupted, but no longer offered the variety and volume known at
Forcello. Attic figured pottery was still present, but during the fourth century it was
gradually replaced by black-glazed pottery, perhaps imported from Magna Graecia,
and still later black-glazed pottery from Volterra became prevalent. Greek transport
amphorae were also present, especially the Corinthian A type oil amphorae and the
B type wine amphorae. By the early third century the Greek-Italic amphorae of Sice-
liot or South Italian manufacture appeared, and their massive importation continued
throughout the century.63
60 The fragment of an Attic red figure bell krater from Mantua-Cortile degli Orsi has been dated to
440 BCE (Baraldi 2002, 36), but it can be dated to the second quarter of the fourth century BCE.
61 Menotti 2011, 7. The few materials reproduced dates to the fourth century (see the aforementioned
page and the cover). Materials dating to the fifth century have been discussed by E. Menotti in a
lecture held at Milan University (April 5.2006).
62 About the excavations carried out in Mantua-Vicolo Pace and in Mantua-Rotonda di San Lorenzo
see de Marinis 1986b, 128–132, figs. 123–125; 1989, 37–45, figs. 15–17, 20–22; Attene Franchini, de
Marinis and Rodighiero 1987, 125–7, fig. 123. These are currently the only available publications of
fourth-third centuries materials from Mantua. See also notes 60–61 and for old finds de Marinis 1984,
34–5, figs. 25–26; Frontini 1987b, figs. 1.3, 4; 3.1, 4, 6, 9; 4.1–6, 9–10.
63 Attene Franchini, de Marinis and Rodighiero 1987, fig. 123.

If trade did not lose vitality, its range had certainly shrunk. Upper-Adriatic pottery,
produced at Adria or some other center of the Delta, has been found in Mantua. The
Po route continued to be used, but sea and river trade declined in favor of land trade,
as shown by the massive importation of Volterran black-glazed pottery, which spread
from Mantua to the territories of Cenomani and other Gaulish populations.
The picture offered by Castellazzo della Garolda, along the left bank of the Mincio,
is perfectly comparable to that of Mantua.64
Old and new finds give us some indication about the necropolis of Etruscan
Mantua. A funerary provenance seems certain for the intact Kerch-style bell krater
which dates to around 350, and was found in Corridoni street in 1911, 400 meters to
the south of the ancient town.65 A large burial ground must have been located between
the railway station and Mondadori square, about one kilometer east/southeast of the
ancient town. A recent discovery of inhumation burials has been reported from Corso
Vittorio Emanuele and Mondadori square,66 while a red-figured aryballic lekythos that
dates to the fourth century was retrieved from destroyed graves in the area in front
of the railway station. Cremation tombs pertaining to the settlement of Castellazzo
della Garolda were discovered in the winter of 1845–6 at Corte Cavriani, 600 meters
east of the settlement. Grave goods included pottery and bronze vessels, but only two
Attic red-figured bell kraters are currently identifiable. One features a banquet scene,
while another is attributable to the late production of the Filottrano painter, with the
figures of Perseus holding the Gorgon’s head in his right hand and Andromeda seated
and crowned by Eros. A second necropolis was located to the west of Castellazzo, at
Corte Vivaio. Here, in 1974 numerous inhumation burials were destroyed during the
planting of a poplar grove. Among the recovered materials are a bronze oinochoe with
a carinated body of Etruscan manufacture, a bronze kyathos, fragments of a situla
and of a ribbed cylindrical bucket, the foot and the base of an Attic bell krater, and a
black-glazed askos.67
Ceramics bearing inscriptions in the Etruscan alphabet and language come
both from Mantua and Castellazzo della Garolda (Fig. 78.6). Castellazzo yielded a
full alphabetic sequence incised with firm strokes and a perfect circular ductus on
the bottom of a bowl that dates to the fourth century.68 A Volterran black-glazed cup
found during the excavations carried out in Mantua-piazza Sordello, features an
inscription scratched on the inside, herini, a family name widely attested at Chiusi
and Perugia.69 During the excavation of Mantua – Vicolo Pace a gray ware bowl was
64 Frontini 1987a, 1987b; Casini, Frontini and Gatti 1987; de Marinis 1987, 183–4, fig. 307; 1989, fig. 15.
65 Tamassia 1986, 189, figs. 311–2.
66 See a short note by E. Menotti 2011, 9–12.
67 For Corte Cavriani and Corte Vivaio see de Marinis 1984, 27, fig. 15; 1987, 199–203; 1989, fig. 14; de
Marinis, Casini, Rapi 2016, fig. 4, pls. XXXIX–XL.
68 de Marinis 1986, 121, figs. 48–49; 2007, 65–6, fig. 20.
69 de Marinis 1987, fig. 308; 2007, 66–68, fig. 27.3.

78 Lombardy 1525
Fig. 78.6: Black-glazed cup of Volterran manufacture with the inscription Herini, from
Mantua, piazza Sordello; 2. black-glazed cup with the inscription fukis, from Mantova;
3. grey ware bowl with the inscription eluveitie, from Mantua. Scale: 1, 4:5; 2–3, 2:5
(Drawings by R.C. de Marinis)
found that dates to the third century and bears the inscription eluveitie incised on
its interior. The root “elu-” or “elvo-” assures us that this is a Celtic name (see the
name Elvorix).70 According to Daniele Vitali and Gilbert Kaenel, the possessive case
of the name would be formed starting from the ethnonym *Elvet-, i.e. the name of the
70 de Marinis 1989, 40, note 37 and fig. 21.6; 2007, 68, fig. 27.1.

Helvetii, the well-known Gaulish tribe.71 The excavation of Vicolo Pace yielded also
black-glazed cups with the inscription fukis, a name whose root corresponds with the
Venetic language (Fugia and Fugio-).72 The inscriptions of Mantua and the territory
of the lower course of the Mincio document the persistence of the Etruscans in the
area well into the fourth and third centuries, but at the same time reveal the Man-
tua’s multi-ethnic character, with the presence of people of Celtic and Paleovenetian
origin, accounting for the celebrated verses of Virgil: Mantua dives avis, sed non genus
omnibus unum (Verg. Aen. 10, 201–203).
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Etruscan Finds in Italy

Alessandro Naso
79 Central Italy and Rome
Abstract: During the first millennium BCE, Central Italy was a mosaic of different peoples, each with
its own culture and language. Modern-day Latium was settled by Latins and other minor peoples
such as Sabines, Faliscans, Hernici, and Volsci. There were other populations in the adjacent regions,
too—Umbrians in Umbria, several tribes in Abruzzo, and Picenes in the Marches. Handicrafts suggest
that Etruscans were in touch with their neighbors mostly as traders, although geographic mobility is
documented by inscriptions. In the case of inscriptions, individuals of high social rank were granted
foreign citizenships at the same social level they had at home. The cultural contacts between Etrus-
cans and their neighbors changed through the ages and were not only one way.
Keywords: Rome, Latium, Faliscan, Umbria, Abruzzo
Introduction
During the first millennium BCE, Central Italy became a mosaic of several peoples
with different cultures and languages. In the second half of the millennium, in mod-
ern-day Latium, near the Latins who were settled around Rome and on the Alban Hills
can be identified other peoples, such as Faliscans in the ager Faliscus on the left bank
of the Tiber. Sabines were in the mountainous hinterland northeast of Rome around
modern-day Rieti, Hernici were between the Lago del Fucino and the Sacco River
around modern-day Anagni, and Volsci were in the southeast. There were further
populations in the adjacent regions, such as Umbrians in modern-day Umbria and
Emilia-Romagna, several tribes in Abruzzo, and Picenes in the Marches (Fig. 79.1).1
Handicraft items suggest that Etruscans were in touch with their neighbors mostly as
traders, even though geographic mobility can be assumed earlier for particular finds,
and is documented later by inscriptions; in the case of inscriptions, we can see that
individuals of high social rank were granted foreign citizenship at the same social
level. Cultural contact between Etruscans and their neighbors changed through the
ages and were initiated on both sides.2
1 Latium and Rome

Latium is a flat and fertile region, which to the south blends naturally into Campa-
nia. Not by chance did ancient people derive the name Latium from the Latin adjec-
1 References are given below. For the Picenes, see chapter 77 Baldelli.
2 On Etruscans in Latium see Cristofani 1982; 1987b; 1988 and 1990.
1534 Alessandro Naso
Fig. 79.1: Ancient Latium and adjacent areas
tive latus, meaning “broad, wide.” Eastern mountains border vast plains, which are
watered by several rivers, the largest of which generally flow north–south and the
lesser of which flow east–west. Both were used in antiquity as natural roads. The
most significant river is the Tiber, the river of Rome, which was the northern border
of Latium, dividing it from Etruria. The southern boundary is not so clear. In the first
century CE, Pliny the Elder called the territory between the Tiber and the Mount Circeo
promontory Latium vetus, and the region of the Garigliano, Liri, and Sacco Rivers

79 Central Italy and Rome 1535
Latium adiectum. The river corridor of the Sacco and Liri-Garigliano Valleys was an
important natural road to Campania and southern Italy. At its northern access lay the
Latin Praeneste, whose flourishing phases benefited from its location.
The role played by the Etruscans (Lat. Tusci) in Latium is stressed by literary
sources, archaeological finds, and inscriptions. Ancient toponyms—many of which
remain in use, such as the city name Tusculum on the Alban Hills—demonstrate the
close nature of the relationships with the Latins. Due to the close connections, in
Etruscan inscriptions personal names derived from the stem Latine are documented
from Veii and Caere, showing geographic mobility from Latium to Etruria.3
2 The Early Iron Age in Latium (1000–730)

In the Italian Iron Age, the finds from Latium represent a well-defined group, called
the Latial culture, which has been periodized into four main phases whose traditional
chronology has recently been discussed within the intense debate about the absolute
chronology of the Italian Iron Age (see chapter 33 Pacciarelli). The new chronological
proposals are earlier than the traditional ones for the Latial culture, too, as shown by
direct comparison between the traditional dates and the system suggested by M. Pac-
ciarelli (Table 1).4
Table 1: Dating schemes for Latial culture
Traditional Pacciarelli
I  11 century – 900
th
12th century – 950/925
II 900–770 950/925–850/825
III 770–730/725 850/825–730/725
IVA 730/725–640 730/725–640
IVB 640–580 640–580
The four main phases are subdivided into sub-phases, whose chronologies depend
largely on the sequences of single sites. Phase II is actually better known than
phase III. It probably depends on the state of publication of the respective finds. The
cemetery of Osteria dell’Osa, near Gabii (east of Rome, along the Via Prenestina),
belonging mostly to phase II, has been published, while the cemetery of Castel di
3 Benelli 2009, 234–35.

4 For the Latial culture: Colonna 1988. For the chronology: Pacciarelli 2001, 68, fig. 38.

Decima near Decima (south of Rome, along the Via Pontina) has not, for the most
part.5 What is clear in the sequence is the end date. After 580, archaeological evidence
from cemeteries is lacking, because in Rome and Latium people were buried without
grave goods, probably because of funerary laws. Therefore one has to work with other
archaeological sources, such as architectural terra-cotta decoration of buildings.
In the early Iron Age, some cultural elements, such as proto-urban settlement
patterns6 and relationships with foreign peoples such as Phoenician and Greeks, are
known in central Italy—mostly in Etruria and Latium—and are typical traits of the
Etruscan and Latin cultures. In the tenth and ninth centuries, certain elements such
as the miniaturization of funerary objects, the ancestor cult, and votive offerings to
divinities are actually better documented in Latium than in Etruria. The idea of min-
iaturizing weapons is an exclusive characteristic of Latium; bronze statuettes and
votive deposits occur in Latium earlier than in Etruria. This tendency is supported by
some recent finds that have expanded previous knowledge: miniature bronze items,
including chariots and weapons, and bronze statuettes have been found extensively
in graves dating to phases I and II of the Latial culture at Santa Palomba (a site near
Rome), the Alban Hills, and the Tyrrhenian coast.7 Even if these elements reveal the
early tendency of the region’s inhabitants to embrace identity, are they enough to
conclude that the Latins defined themselves as “Latin” before the Etruscans defined
themselves as “Etruscan”? The question remains open, but these cultural elements
are important for us to stress the relevance of the inhabitants of Latium already in the
early Iron Age.
There is earlier evidence of writing in Latium than in Etruria, too. In the eighth
century, only a few inscriptions are attested in the Italian peninsula, and they all
belong to the second half of the century. An interesting graffito was recently discov-
ered on an uniquely shaped olla in the female Grave 482 in the Osteria dell’Osa cem-
etery, datable to the first quarter of the eighth century at the latest, if the provenance
from that tomb is definitive. This new text is generally read as Greek eulin (in this
sense it could refer to skill in weaving, according to David Ridgway), but there are
other readings, too. Giovanni Colonna suggested a retrograde Latin reading ni lue.8 If
Greek, it would be the oldest evidence for this language in Italy, and would suggest
that written Greek was present in the Latin area independent of Etruscan influence. If
Latin, it would constitute the oldest evidence of this language and would show how
old the Latin language was formed and used.
5 Both references in Smith 2007, 164–68.

6 Pacciarelli 2000, 87–92, 119–27.
7 De Santis 2011, 26–30 (Roma, Quadrato di Torre Spaccata), 30–51 (Santa Palomba). The bronze
statuettes give credibility to older finds whose authenticity was dubious (Szilágyi 1991). For the early
votive offerings in Latium see Guidi 1990, 411–14. For such finds in Etruria see chapter 42 Trocchi.
8 Ampolo 1997 with previous literature, completed by Colonna 2005 for the Latin reading.

Another tomb group at the Osteria dell’Osa cemetery indicates the probable pres-
ence of Etruscan people in this Latin community. Grave 600, which unfortunately
was explored only after its destruction by a plow, was isolated, as was customary
for eminent burials, according to evidence in several cemeteries. It contained bronze
objects belonging to a high-ranking warrior—not only defensive equipment (a crested
helmet, two round shields, and a breastplate) and offensive weapons (a sword with
its scabbard, a spearhead, and a javelin), but also vases (an amphora, four ribbed
bowls, and a basin) and the remains of a cult wagon. Three further similar wagons are
known, all found in Veiian tomb groups, dating to the second half of the eighth cent
ury.9 In central Italy in the eighth and seventh centuries, cult wagons were reserved
for individuals of high social rank, mostly warriors playing a role in ceremonies.
According to the finds, and especially the wagon, tomb group 600 may belong to a
warrior of Etruscan origins, probably from Veii, who was buried in the cemetery of
Osteria dell’Osa, because very probably he was in the Latin community of Gabii that
used that cemetery. If this is true, geographic mobility between Etruria and Latium
can be assumed in the second half of the eighth century.10
3 The Orientalizing period in Latium (730–580)

If complex tomb groups allow us to assume episodes of geographic mobility, isolated
Etruscan finds in Latial contexts raise other possibilities, such as trade relationships
or gift exchanges between members of the elite. A possible gift is the Etruscan bronze
horse tripod with rider, which belongs to a group produced at Vetulonia, found in
Grave XLIII in the cemetery of La Rustica, east of Rome, and dating to the first half of
the seventh century.11 Luxury goods of this period are concentrated in tomb groups in
the Latin center of Praeneste, whose geographic location allowed it to control not only
the natural route between Latium and Campania, but also the road to the Apennine
passes in the direction of the Adriatic region. Thanks to its location, Praeneste’s elite
was presumably able to charge a toll on people passing on the routes and through the
territory under their control.
The set of jewelry from the Galeassi tomb—consisting of gold bracelets, silver
pendants, silver fibulae, an amber necklace, a silver-plated bronze pectoral, and
additional unidentifiable objects—has been assigned to a workshop in Caere, where
similar items have been found.12 More impressive are the sumptuary goods from other
tomb groups in Praeneste, such as the Barberini and Bernardini tombs, which date
9 Naso 2006, 365 type Ib.

10 De Santis 1995.
11 Nachbaur 2011, 199 for the group, 209, no. PD 6, fig. 2 for this example.
12 De Puma 1986; Ambrosini 2015.

to the second quarter of the seventh century. The Bernardini tomb contained a very
large number of luxury items, which have few comparisons anywhere in the Italian
peninsula, and cannot be listed in their entirety. The highlights among the precious
metal vases are a gold skyphos mounted with tiny sphinxes decorated with granula-
tion, three Phoenician silver bowls with friezes, a North Syrian bronze cauldron on
its stand, and a silver wine set. A small Phoenician gold-plated silver cauldron was
“etruscanized” by applying to it six gilded silver serpents, which partly cover the orig-
inal decoration. A set of gold jewelry, including a breastplate, is Etruscan, but a glass
bowl and ivory carved plaques have North Syrian and Phoenician origins. The Etrus-
can connections of the high-ranking individuals or kings of Praeneste are declared by
the Etruscan inscription on the Phoenician silver bowl belonging to the wine set from
the Bernardini Tomb. One can read vetusia, meaning “(I am property) of Vetus,” the
personal name of the owner, who is probably the deceased buried in the tomb.
If the inscription is Etruscan, we must recognize the presence of a high-ranking
individual, probably of Etruscan origin, in the Latin city of Praeneste.13 The Barber-
ini Tomb contained a small number of similar precious items, but included a sheet
bronze throne and a silver pin with gold head, 34.5 cm long, which was probably
used as scepter, clarifying the royal status of the deceased. The best comparisons for
both Praeneste tomb groups are in southern Etruria, namely in the Regolini Galassi
Tomb at Caere, so that the Near Eastern and Etruscan luxuries likely reached Praen-
este through Etruria, probably through Caere.
If the case of Praeneste shows a dependence on the Etruscans, due to the strategic
location of the city, in other areas the autonomous initiative of the Latin centers to
establish relationships must be emphasized. This is the case of Phoenician transport
amphorae, used only for wine, which between 725 and 650 are documented only in
Latium vetus and not in Etruria.14 We can expect further finds to be made in Etruria,
because it is widely accepted that the form of Etruscan transport amphorae was
inspired by Phoenician forms.
A possible role for the Etruscans in Latium in the first half of the seventh century
is revealed in the geographic distribution of painted pottery from Corinth. These vases
have been found in coastal localities such as Lavinium and Satricum, together with
Etruscan pottery such as bucchero sottile and subgeometric vases, at the earliest from
the second quarter of the seventh century.15 Because the Etruscan vases are charac-
teristic of Caere workshops, one can imagine this city’s role in developing a wave
13 According to a previous reading, vetusia would be a Latin inscription, meaning a female name.
Canciani and von Hase 1979 for the Bernardini tomb. Since the first publication of Curtis 1925, a new
study of the Barberini tomb group is still needed.
14 Botto 2008.
15 Lavinium, fossa grave under the Heroon of Aeneas: Colonna 1976, 306–11. Satricum, Tomb II:
Waarsenburg 1995, 179–291.

a b
c d
Fig. 79.2: Votive offerings from Satricum: a. Impasto amphora inv. no. 10294. b. Bucchero
askos, inv. no. 10355. c.–d. Impasto dishes, inv. nos. 10501, 10500. Rome,
Villa Giulia Museum. (Photo SAR-Laz)
of trade from southern Etruria to Latium. The coastal locations show that the trade
was carried out by sea, with the mouths of rivers (at Lavinium, Ardea, and Satricum)
and natural creeks (at Antium) serving as adequate harbors. These centers were con-
nected by land as well.
A central place in Latin cities was Satricum, near modern Borgo Le Ferriere,
where a cemetery, a votive deposit, and several huts have been explored, dating from
the eighth century onward. The huts have an oval, rounded, or rectangular plan: the
first two plans are the earliest. The sets of painted pottery found in many huts, such
as VI and XIII, include both imported Proto-Corinthian and locally made vases.The
votive deposit is the richest known in all of central Italy (Fig. 79.2). From around 730
to 540, votive offerings were mostly clay vases, but silver jewelry was also given to the
god. Like the huts, the votive deposit yielded both imported and locally made vases,
including Proto-Corinthian and Corinthian pottery. Bucchero pottery follows the pat-
terns of Caere’s workshops, confirming Satricum’s close relationship with Caere. This
is stated by the only inscription found in the votive deposit, scratched in Etruscan
on some bucchero sherds of a cup dating to the last quarter of the seventh century
mentioning “mi mu[---]e velchainasi.” The text is to be restored using the identical
but complete inscription on a bucchero cup in private ownership, “mi mulu larisale
velchainasi,” meaning “I (have been) given by Laris Velchaina.” The complete inscrip-

tion has neither context nor provenance, but it can be assigned to Caere, where the
family name Velchaina is documented.16 So, these inscriptions further confirm the
close relationship between Caere and Satricum, which persuaded Laris Velchaina—
probably a native of Caere who was buried there in a chamber tomb that yielded the
intact cup—to give a votive offering in the sanctuary at Satricum in the last quarter
of the seventh century.17 A similar but somewhat later case is made by two bucchero
vases, in the sanctuary of Portonaccio at Veii and in a chamber tomb in the necropolis
of Lavinium. On a jug from Veii and an amphora from Lavinium, both dating to about
570, are scratched two similar inscriptions “mini m[ulu]vanice mamar.ce a.puniie,”
meaning “me gave Mamarce Apunie.” The syllabic punctuation shows that Mamarce
Apunie was probably a native of Veii and bought the two vases there, offering the first
in the home sanctuary and the second to the men buried in the tomb at Lavinium.18
4 The Archaic and Late Archaic period in Rome

(580–450): La grande Roma dei Tarquinii
Rome, the most important city in Latium, had a continual relationship with the
Etruscans and was under Etruscan hegemony at least from the end of the seventh
to the sixth century during the reigns assigned by the historical sources to three
kings of Etruscan origin: L. Tarquinius Priscus (616–578), Servius Tullius (578–536),
and L. Tarquinius Superbus (535–509). Following an influential article by Giorgio
Pasquali on the subject, this flourishing period has been called La grande Roma
dei Tarquinii.19 Scholars have discussed the real character of the Etruscan period in
Rome, and a range of possibilities, from simple presence to domination, has been
explored.20 Rome has not yielded purely Etruscan contexts, with a very few excep-
tions. Among them is the disturbed collection of pottery, found on the Caelian Hill
under the Palazzo Apostolico Lateranense (modern-day Piazza San Giovanni in La-
terano), which originally belonged to the fine tomb groups of the late seventh–early
sixth centuries, and were later removed from their original location.21 The presence in
Rome of natives of Etruria is attested by the literary sources, which mention the vicus
Tuscus, the Etruscan quarter, dating to the period of the monarchy, located near the
Forum between the Palatine and the Tiber.22 According to the literary tradition, in the
16 TLE 866.
17 CIE 8613 for the cup from Satricum, with literature for the vase in a private collection.
18 CIE 8612 for the amphora from Lavinium, with literature for the jug from Veii (TLE 34 = CIE 6421).
19 Pasquali 1936; recently Mura Sommella 2000.
20 A recent overview by Ampolo 2009, with previous bibliography.
21 Buranelli and Le Pera Buranelli 1997.
22 Colonna 1987, 59–61; Papi 1999.

period of the Etruscan kings, impressive changes were carried out, such as the drain-
ing of the site and the paving of the Forum by Tarquinius Priscus. That same king built
the Circus Maximus between the Palatine and Aventine Hills and planned the huge
temple of Jupiter on the Capitoline Hill, which became the sacred citadel reserved for
cult buildings. The plan of the temple of Jupiter, the largest in the city, was based on
the three-room model characteristic of Etruscan tomb, house, and religious architec-
ture. The dimensions, on the other hand, measured during recent excavations as 50 m
wide by 68 m long, are unique and are hard to interpret for several technical reasons,
as, for one thing, its roof would have been nearly 3,500 m2. According to some literary
sources, Tarquinius Superbus, who finished the building, charged Etruscan crafts-
men with making the terra-cotta acroterial statue (statue atop the pediment), repro-
ducing a quadriga.23
The Regia in the Forum and the temple of Mater Matuta in the Forum Boarium
show that the plan adopted in the temple of Jupiter was not unique, but buildings on
the three-room model belong to archaic house and religious architecture in Rome.
Thanks to its location in the trade area of the Forum Boarium, the temple, built
around 580–570 and restored around 540–530, had the character of an emporium.24
It is the oldest known temple built according to the three-room plan, in either Etruria
or Latium. Some chamber tombs in Caere that date to the end of the seventh century
show that the plan is an original Etruscan development.25 The votive offerings include
bucchero and Etrusco-Corinthian ware, both imported from Etruria and locally made.
It is not easy to determine the origins of the vases. Among the votive offerings, very
important is an ivory tablet in the form of a lion, on whose reverse is inscribed araz
silqetenas spurianas, meaning “(I belong to) Araz Silqetenas (of) Spurianas.” This
little tablet, dated to the second quarter of the sixth century, has been identified as a
tessera hospitalis belonging to Araz Silqetenas and was intended to match a similar
piece belonging to Spurianas. As with a similar find from Carthage, the purpose of
the tessera hospitalis was to state the (trade) relationship between the two persons
(see chapters 10 D’Ercole and 88 Naso). Because the family name Silqetenas is quite
similar to the name of the Punic city of Sulcis in Sardinia, it has been argued that Araz
Silqetenas was a guest from Punic Sardinia, while Spurianas could be the Etruscan
from Rome. According to many scholars, the Etruscan Araz in Rome instead of Arath
in Etruria is characteristic of Rome, and the form might indicate that the inscription
was incised by an Etruscan from Rome.26 This is confirmed by the bucchero bowl with
the Etruscan inscription ni Araziia Laraniia “I (belong to) Araziia Laranai,” which
23 Overview in Mura Sommella 2009, 350 for the sources.

24 For the immense bibliography on this temple see Mura Sommella 2011.
25 Naso 1996.
26 CIE 8602. Maggiani 2006, 321.

was found under the Capitoline Hill in a well near the temple of Saturn.27 It testifies to
the presence of Etruscans in Rome in the second half of the sixth century who spoke
a particular dialect, and together with the above-mentioned tessera hospitalis, shows
how old the settlement of Etruscans in Rome was, which the literary tradition knew
under the name of the vicus Tuscus. According to the literary tradition, at the end of
the sixth century, the Etruscan Porsenna, king of Clusium and Volsinii, attempted to
control Rome and Latium, but his effort was stymied by a Roman and Latin army in a
battle near Aricia around 504.28
5 The Archaic and Late Archaic periods in Latium

(580–450) 
Etruscan finds from Latium show that the close relationships between the communi-
ties of the two regions continued in the second half of the sixth century. The devel-
opment of a common style, including the same decorations and motifs, is clear in
the terra-cotta plaques with figured friezes used to ornament the roofs of buildings
that have been found in several findspots in Rome and Latium. Although this deco-
rative system had probably come from Veii to Rome and Latium already by the end
of the seventh century, as the most recent finds in the Piazza d’Armi show,29 around
530 it developed further with the creation of the decorative system known from such
main findspots as Veii-Rome-Velletri. Revetment plaques with figured friezes in relief
and antefixes made from the same molds characterize these roofs, which are closely
related to roofs belonging to the Caere system, because they probably had common
Ionian origins.30 The friezes, meant to decorate the lower parts of the roofs, offer
scenes of chariot races, chariot processions, a seated assembly, and a banquet, and
were formidable devices for expressing the ideological values of the powerful inhab-
itants of the buildings concerned, as they often repeat the same scenes dozens of
times. Here we may mention the roofs from Velletri and from Caprifico near Cisterna
di Latina, which both belong to temples (Fig. 79.3).31 In the fifth century, the tradition
of the three-room-plan temple continued, as shown by the dedication of the temple of
Castor and Pollux, the Dioscuri, in the Roman Forum in 484.32
27 CIE 8603. Colonna 1987, 58, no. 27.

28 Colonna 2000.
29 General overview in Cristofani 1992. For the Veian finds: Bartoloni 2009.
30 Winter 2009, 311–93.
31 Palombi 2010.
32 Nielsen and Poulsen 1992.

Fig. 79.3: Velletri pediment reconstruction drawing (after Palombi 2010, p. 114, fig. 1a)
6 Other peoples in modern Latium and central Italy

A complete overview of the relationships between Etruscans and the peoples settled
in Latium other than Latins is still to be written; at the moment only some individual
cases can be mentioned.
Sabines were traditionally one of the more ancient populations of central Italy, if
not the oldest of all. They were settled in the mountains of modern-day Abruzzo and
Lazio, around L’Aquila and Rieti as far west as the Tiber, which was the geographical

and spiritual heart of ancient Italy.33 According to ancient sources, a series of migra-
tions from Sabine territory gave rise to Picenes and Samnites, from which Lucanians
and Brettians successively emerged. The Sabine settlement pattern was a dispersed
one, with its major centers along the left bank of the Tiber, such as Eretum, Magliano
Sabina, Poggio Sommavilla, and Cures Sabini.34 Relationships with Etruscans are
clear not only through specific finds of luxury objects, such as the remains of a bronze
wagon from Grave XI of the Colle del Forno cemetery, but also through inscriptions. A
little clay flask from Poggio Sommavilla with a Sabine inscription, dating to the end
of the seventh century, was probably inspired by Near Eastern prototypes known in
Italy by way of Etruria (Fig. 79.4). Its counterpart is a larger flask from Chiusi, dated to
the same period, also with a Sabine inscription.35 The second of these, probably a gift,
shows the existence of deep connections between the Etruscan elite of Chiusi and the
Sabine Tiber Valley at the end of the seventh century, the age of Tarquinius Priscus.
According to Dionysius of Halicarnassus (3.58–59), the Roman king once defeated an
army assembled by several central Italic communities, including both Sabines and
Etruscans from Chiusi. Because the Etruscan army arrived in Latium through Sabine
land, following the suggestion of some Sabines, the episode may prove the existence
of good relations between Sabines and the inhabitants of Chiusi. Later finds show
the distribution of luxury Etruscan objects in northeastern Latium, such as bronze
mirrors from southern Etruria, which date to the third century.36
The land located on the right bank of the Tiber between the Cimini Hills, Mount
Soratte, the Tiber, and the Via Cassia was called Ager faliscus, after the name of its
inhabitants, the Faliscans.37 They had close relations with the Etruscans, as shown by
about twenty Etruscan inscriptions concentrated in cemeteries of Narce, near mod-
ern-day Calcata, which date to the seventh and sixth centuries. Some are incised on
votive offerings in sanctuaries of the fourth and third centuries. Several older texts
follow the writing norms used in the inscriptions from the Portonaccio sanctuary at
Veii and probably refer to Etruscans from this city; they allow us to assume the exist-
ence of an Etruscan community living in the Faliscan Narce.38
Etruscans are also documented in southeastern Latium in the land settled by
the Hernici, around modern-day Anagni and along the natural course of the Sacco
River Valley. A bucchero jug from Grave 22 from the Ominimorti cemetery near the
modern-day village of San Biagio Saracinisco has a shape characteristic of bucchero
jugs from a Caere workshop dating to the second quarter of the sixth century, which
33 Nicosia and Bettini 2009, with further bibliography.

34 Guidi and Santoro 2004.
35 Bagnasco Gianni 2006, with previous literature.
36 For instance at Corvaro di Borgorose: Alvino 2004.
37 Ceccarelli and Stoddart 2007.
38 Cristofani 1988. Further inscriptions in CIE 8889-8925.

Fig. 79.4: Clay flask from Poggio Sommavilla with Sabine

inscription (from NS 1896)
were exported to southern Etruria and Pontecagnano, and outside Italy as far as Mar-
seille.39 To the second half of the sixth century belong a few inscriptions found in the
sanctuary explored at Santa Cecilia; there are a few Etruscan terra-cotta-decorated
temples in other localities in the same region, and they have been connected to work-
shops at Caere.40
From the Iron Age onward, close relationships connected Etruscans and Umbri-
ans, who lived along the left bank of the Tiber and in the adjacent areas of central
Italy.41 In the sixth century, the Umbrian elite appreciated Etruscan bronze vases from
workshops of Volsinii Veteres, modern-day Orvieto, as shown by the finds from the
cemetery of the Umbrian community near modern-day Colfiorito di Foligno, which
controlled a strategic crossing.42 Sanctuaries played a special role in the relationships
among people of different origins and allow us to recognize foreigners, because each
generally offered the deities the characteristic votive gifts he offered at home. In this
way the dedications of South Umbrian bronze statuettes in Etruscan sanctuaries may
reflect South Umbrian believers in Etruria.43
In modern-day Abruzzo, archaic Etruscan trade is attested by fine ware and
bronzes. The main findspots are grave groups belonging to the local elite in the
cemeteries of Campovalano (in the province of Teramo), Fossa, and Bazzano (both
in the province of L’Aquila). Campovalano yielded bronze vases, both imported and
locally made; Fossa and Bazzano yielded Etrusco-Corinthian pottery dating to the
39 Caere and Southern Etruria: Naso 1994, 298–99, nos. 1–57. Ominimorti: Innico 2008, 65, fig. 11.
Pontecagnano: Cuozzo 1993, 154–55, nos. 15–19, figs. 22–23. For Marseille: Gran-Aymerich 2006, 209–
11, fig. 4.
40 Colonna 1995, 3–10 on Hernici, with previous bibliography.
41 For the Umbrians: Sisani 2009; Umbri 2014.
42 Etruscan relationships with Umbria have been recognized by Bruschetti 2001. See also the
contributions in Fontaine 2010.
43 Colonna 1970, 204–5 (provenances).

a b
Fig. 79.5: Etrusco-corinthian pottery from Fossa;

a. Oinochoe from grave 66. b. Cup from grave 215.
c. Phiale from grave 429 (after D’Ercole and Benelli 2004,
c plates 19, 62 and 138)
sixth century (Fig. 79.5). Some Etrusco-Corinthian vases from Abruzzo have been
assigned to workshops in Vulci, and it has been noted that drinking cups are often in
male graves, while jugs are in female ones. Vases from Athens may have also reached
Abruzzo via Adriatic emporia like Numana.44
7 Late Classical and Hellenistic periods (450–250)

From the fourth century onward, relationships between Etruria and Rome changed,
because as Rome continued to expand, it began to conquer first Latium and then the
Etruscan cities (see chapter 37 Marcone). Thus it is easier to identify Roman traces in
Etruria than Etruscan traces in Latium, as shown, for instance, by the wall paintings
of the François Tomb in Vulci, dated to around 330. Here, Cneve Tarchunies Rumach
from Rome is depicted among Etruscan warriors coming from several cities involved
in a battle; it has been suggested that these scenes be identified with a fight for the
control of Rome, which might have happened two centuries before the grave paint-
44 For the tribes settled in Abruzzo see La Regina 2010, 234. The Etruscan imports in Abruzzo were
recognized by D’Ercole and Menozzi 2007; see also Weidig 2010, 2014.

ings were made. Evoking his ancestors’ glorious past, the tomb’s owner stressed his
own glory against the same enemies45 (see chapter 57 Gilotta). For this period, schol-
ars have focused on close relationships between Etruria and Latium in handicraft
production of both bronze and clay vases and utensils, which went in both directions
(see chapter 58 Ambrosini). From this period onward, the Etruscan legacy to Roman
civilization began to increase steadily (see chapter 38 Torelli).
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80 Southern Italy
Abstract: A part from the Villanovan site of Sala Consilina, there were no permanent Etruscan settle-
ments south of present day Campania after the end of the 8th century BCE. There is however archaeo-
logical evidence that there were individuals or groups of individuals of Etruscan origin present in
the area south of the river Sele and a network of cultural contacts and commercial exchanges which
linked the centres of Tyrrhenian Etruria and etruscanized Campania to local populations (Oenotrians
and Iapygians, in particular) and to the Greek colonies of Southern Italy between the seventh and
fifth, and in some late cases fourth, cent. BCE.
The evidence for the existence of these individuals and contacts lies in the discovery in Southern
Italy of objects related to burials, shrines and settlements which were certainly or likely to have been
of Etruscan manufacture (i.e. made in Etruria, Etruscan Campania, Etruscan Po Valley) especially
bucchero pottery, bronze vessels and jewellery.
On the basis of this kind of evidence, the paper aims at analysing the cultural and historical
meaning of these artefacts, according to the various needs for self-representation of local élites (par-
ticularly Oenotrian and Daunian) and to the different routes of trading. With reference to this last
aspect, the archaeological evidence allows us to identify a series of long-distance routes over land and
sea by which “Etrusco-Tyrrhenian” artefacts entered and were distributed in Southern Italy.
Keywords: Oenotrians, Daunians, Campanians, Iapygians
Introduction
Apart from the Villanovan site of Sala Consilina (which fell into decline towards the
end of the eighth century BCE) there were no permanent Etruscan settlements south
of present day Campania in later periods. There is, however, archaeological evidence
that there were individuals or groups of individuals of Etruscan origin present in the
area south of the river Sele. There was also a network of cultural contacts and com-
mercial exchanges that linked the centers of Tyrrhenian Etruria and Etruscan Cam-
pania to local populations (Oenotrians and Iapygians, in particular) and to the Greek
colonies of Southern Italy between the seventh and fifth (and in some late cases,
fourth) century.1
The evidence for the existence of these individuals and contacts lies in the pres-
ence in Southern Italy of objects—especially bucchero pottery, bronze vessels and
jewellery—related to burials, shrines and settlements that were likely to have been
of Etruscan manufacture (i.e. made in Etruria, Etruscan Campania, or Etruscan Po
valley). These have come to assume the value of true and proper archaeological indi-
cators (It. fossili-guida) of the contacts between the Etruscan world and that of South-
1 Pallottino 1969; Bonghi Jovino 1986; Torelli 1996; Bottini 2000.

ern Italy. Uncertainties remain about the actual location of the production centers
of these materials, together with the unresolved possibility that the artifacts found
in Magna Graecia might have been imported from other Etruscan territories or made
by artisans, either of Etruscan origin or trained in Etruscan craft, who could have
been immigrants or itinerants in the South. The objects may even have been local
imitations. All of these possibilities make it difficult to be specific about the historical
meaning of these Etruscan connections, beyond the generic reference to their origin
as “Tyrrhenian.” What is clear is the fundamental role played in the Orientalizing and
Archaic periods by the Etruscan settlements in Campania (especially those of Capua
and Pontecagnano) as production and distribution centers of Tyrrhenian artifacts
exported to the south.
While these artifacts are often serial (bucchero vases, bronze basins with
embossed or braided rims, bronze “Rhodian” oinochoai etc.) there are some pieces
which are unique or of a very high quality. The latter are almost always status symbols
for members of a local elite, or destined for the sanctuaries of Magna Graecia. The
artifacts in question are above all from tombs of local aristocracies (particularly
Oenotrian and Daunian). The role that the elite played was not only as consumers
of imported goods, but sometimes as redistributors within their own areas or in the
areas in their zones of influence.
The acquisition of these goods in the Archaic period brought contact with the more
structured Etruscan and colonial Greek societies and their ideological and cultural
models. Particularly in funerary contexts, the reference to the “Tyrrhenian” banquet
and the Greek symposium models is suggested by recurring examples of Etruscan met-
alwork used in banquets (especially medium and large bronze vessels, like embossed
rim basins, “Rhodian” oinochoai etc., mostly from Vulci), and by imported buccheri
related to wine consumption (trefoil mouth oinochoai, olpai, kantharoi, and kylikes).
It seems that high social status was displayed not only by the quantity of goods a tomb
contained, but by the number of imported goods it contained, and at the ideological
level by the use of collective models of self-representation other than the traditional.
Archaic Etruscan artifacts, then, appear to represent an important element of defini-
tion.
In the regions of Southern Italy, these artifacts seem to have had various and
selective means of distribution, according to the various needs for self-representation
of local elite and different trade routes. Some areas of Southern Italy have few or none
of these products. For example, in Melfi area and in the mid and upper valleys of
Bradano and Basento, the bucchero is almost completely absent. On the other hand,
in the Agri and Sinni valleys, these products seem to have been popular. In still other
areas, there are suggestions of the existence of “sub-regional” distribution networks.
In a large part of present-day Basilicata, the “Rhodian” oinochoe is frequently associ-
ated with the bronze embossed rim basin. In any case, the circulation and distribu-
tion of “Tyrrhenian” artifacts (with particular reference to bronze ware and bucchero
pottery) in Southern Italy in the Archaic age do not seem to have involved the acqui-

80 Southern Italy 1553
sition of entire banqueting sets but rather individual and few pieces used as funer-
ary vessels inspired by the previously mentioned ideological models. There are only
some examples from the fifth century from specific areas (the territory of Melfi for
example), which can be considered complete “services.”
If the circulation and the presence of these artifacts in the Italic and Greek colonial
contexts of Southern Italy are the result of commercial exchanges that unite the Tyr-
rhenian region (and the Etruscan Po valley) to the south and to Greek world,2 it can be
supposed that their presence is not the result of purely economic relationships, but,
rather, are of exchanges of a socio-anthropological nature, like a gift-exchange, or
“chieftain’s trade,” which would have connected members of the Etrusco-Campanian
elite with those of Oenotrians and Daunians.3
1 Trade, exchange, mobility: the land routes

There is archaeological evidence that allows us to identify the probable routes over
land and sea by which “Etrusco-Tyrrhenian” artifacts reached and were distributed
around Southern Italy. Those over land originated in Etruscan Campania and followed
a series of long-distance routes, which went southwards from Campanian mesogeia,
crossing the mountainous area of the Apennines (the “Trans-Apennine Way”).4 These
routes took advantage of natural features like river valleys and passes, and at least
partly followed roads already traveled by men and goods during the Iron Age. These
roads, especially those farthest south, had been used to bring pottery from Daunia
to Campania (It. Geometrico Protodaunio tardo and Subgeometrico Daunio 1, follow-
ing the classification of Ettore De Juliis).5 Eighth and seventh century examples have
been recorded in internal areas (Caudium, Bisaccia), on the borders of the Campanian
plain (Suessula, Nola, Avella) and along the coast (the Sarno valley, Pontecagnano
and Pithecusa). It is during the second half of the seventh and above all during the
sixth century that heightened relations between Campania and the Apulo-Lucan-
ian area are recorded (in particular with Melfi and Daunia)6 and that these routes,
archeologically marked by the presence of the types of articles mentioned above, took
clearer shape.7
2 Gras 1985, 325–348; d’Agostino 1984; 1988; 1991; Gras 1998, 65–70; D’Ercole 2008.
3 Tagliente 1999, 397–398; cf. Schnapp 1999.
4 Adamesteanu 1983; d’Agostino 1984; 1987, 33–39; Gras 1987, Tagliente 1987; d’Agostino 1989; Gras
1998, 61, 63; Tagliente 1999, 395–397.
5 De Juliis 1977, 81–92; cf. d’Agostino 1989.
6 De Juliis 1977, 82–83; Colonna 1984a, 273–277; Mazzei 1985, 264–268, 276–279; Tagliente 1987, 144–
145; d’Agostino 1991, 46–47; Cinquantaquattro and Cuozzo 2002; Mazzei 2010, 158–159.
7 d’Agostino 1987, 33.

A first route, which led to the Oenotrian region of southwest Basilicata, followed
the valley of the Sele river across the Vallo di Diano to the Sinni and Agri valleys, and
continued toward the Greek colonies on the arch of the Ionian coast. Along this route
there is ample evidence of the presence and movement of goods of probable Etrus-
can and Etrusco-Campanian origin.8 The most important Orientalizing necropolises
in Vallo di Diano (at the centers of Atena Lucana, Sala Consilina and Padula) and in
the Sinni and Agri valleys (Chiaramonte, Armento and Alianello) have yielded abun-
dant examples of bronze vessels for banquets or symposium (embossed rim basins,
“Rhodian” oinochoai, tripod lebes, ribbed phialai, kotylai, etc.) and a smaller number
of examples of bucchero vases. Examples of the latter in black, finely burnished buc-
chero (trefoil mouth oinochoai of Rasmussen 7a type, kantharoi of Rasmussen 3e
type) possibly of Etruscan manufacture from Southern Campania (Pontecagnano,
Fratte) were found in male and female tombs from the beginning and the first half of
the sixth century (Chiaramonte and Armento).
Grey bucchero wares with brown metallic engobe coatings and a wide range of
shapes, some of which are connected to wine consumption, have been found in Alia
nello, with a single example found at Chiaramonte. These grey bucchero vases came
from the Etrusco-Campanian area or were produced locally from the second quarter
of the sixth to the beginning of the fifth century. It has been suggested9 that the silver
necklaces from Chiaramonte tombs 142 and 157 may have come from Etruscan Cam-
pania, as may have the itinerant artisans who, it is thought,10 might have produced
some of the amber works found at Armento, Chiaramonte, Roccanova, and Alianello
etc., northern Lucania (Braida di Vaglio, Tricarico, Tolve etc.), the areas around Melfi
(Melfi, Banzi, and Ripacandida etc.), in Daunia (Canosa) and Peucezia (Rutigliano,
Ruvo, Ceglie del Campo, and Valenzano).
A second route, whose characteristics are better defined from the last decades of
the seventh century, after the foundation of the Achean colony of Metaponto, leads
from the Sele valley, into the Potentino, enters eastern Basilicata through the Basento
and Bradano valleys, and ends in the area around Metaponto. The ancient sites located
along this route have not yielded any examples of bucchero vessels, which have been
found only around Metaponto, where they probably arrived by other routes. “Tyrrhe-
nian” metallic vessels with basins with embossed or braided rims have been found
at Baragiano, Braida di Vaglio, Serra di Vaglio, Oppido Lucano, Montescaglioso, and
8 See esp. Tagliente 1987, 144; Bottini and Tagliente 1994, 493–495, 503–508; Bottini and Setari 1996;
Bottini 2000, 197–198; 2001, 255–256.
9 Bianco 1998, 200.
10 Bottini 2007, 235, 237 (with bibliography); cf. D’Ercole 1995.

Pisticci, as have some “Rhodian” oinochoai at Metaponto, and what may be a frag-
ment of a Campanian-type bronze funerary lebes at Anzi.11
There is important evidence of the link to Etruscan Campania in the Etruscan
inscription engraved on the lip of a tripod lebes found in the luxurious tomb 106 in
Braida.12 The text, written in the characters of the Etrusco-Campanian alphabet, tells
us it is a gift and constitutes a very rare example of an Etruscan epigraph south of the
river Sele.
A third “trans-Apennine” northerly route joins Campania with the region of
Melfi and continues on to Northern Puglia. Starting from south-central Campania,
it crosses the Calore and Sele valleys, climbs up to the upper Ofanto valley, touches
the cultural centers of the Cairano-Oliveto Citra culture, and arrives first at Melfi and
then at Daunia (and from there Peucezia). While there are practically no examples
of Etrusco-Campanian bucchero along the route (only some vases in “impasto buc-
cheroide” have been found, like the kantharos in tomb 58 in the necropolis at Melfi/
Cappuccini), there are examples of “Tyrrhenian” metalwork, or at least metalwork
inspired by “Tyrrhenian” models. It is thought that some were produced locally.13
Bronze basins with embossed or braided rims and “Rhodian” oinochoai from the Late
Orientalizing and Archaic periods have been found in the centers of the Cairano-
Oliveto Citra culture, in northern Lucania (at Ruvo del Monte, for example) and in the
Melfi region (at Melfi, Lavello, and Banzi, where “Rhodian” oinochoai were absent).
From the end of the sixth century, especially in the Melfi region, which was cultur-
ally linked to nearby Daunia, new forms appeared (various types of round-mouthed
oinochoai, Schnabelkannen, stamnoi, lamps etc.) sometimes acquired as entire ser-
vices (one of the most complete of these comes from female tomb 955 in the necropolis
at Lavello/Cimitero, dating from the end of the fifth century). Also dating from the
fifth century are finds of large bronze candelabra with figured top which could have
been made in Vulci but may also have been produced in loco (Melfi/Chiuchiari, tomb
F; Ruvo del Monte, tomb 64; Melfi/Pisciolo, tomb 48; Lavello/Cimitero, tomb 955).14
There were also similar finds in the Agri valley (Roccanova).
After this period there was a sharp decline in the importation of “Tyrrhenian”
products. The antefixes with a shell frame which have been found from the late
Archaic age in the Melfi area (Melfi, Lavello) as well as in Frentania (San Giacomo
degli Schiavoni) and Daunia (Serracapriola, Tiati-San Paolo Civitate, San Severo,
11 See esp. Tagliente, 1987, 144–145; Bottini and Tagliente 1994, 497–498; Bottini 2000, 199; 2001, 256
(with bibliographic references). For the fragment of the Campanian bronze dinos from Anzi kept at the
British Museum: see Bottini and Tagliente 1994, 497 n. 9.
12 Colonna 2002a; Torelli and Agostiniani 2003; Maggiani 2009.
13 See esp. Tagliente, 1987, 144–145; Bottini and Tagliente 1994, 497–501; Bottini 2000, 199; 2001, 256,
258 (with bibliographic references).
14 Bottini 1990.

Fig. 80.1: Southern Italy: findspots of items both imported from Etruria and imitating Etruscan
models

First land route

1 Atena Lucana, 2 Sala Consilina, 3 Padula, 4 Chiaromonte, 5 Roccanova, 6 Armento, 7 Alianello.
Second land route
8 Baragiano, 9 Anzi, 10 Braida and Serra di Vaglio, 11 Oppido Lucano, 12 Pisticci,
13 Montescaglioso, 14 Metaponto.
Third land route
15 Oliveto Citra, 16 Cairano, 17 Ruvo del Monte, 18 Melfi, 19 Lavello, 20 Banzi.
Fourth land route
21 Guglionesi, 22 Termoli, 23 Larino, 24 San Giacomo degli Schiavoni, 25 Macchia Valfortore,
26 San Giuliano di Puglia, 27 Serracapriola, 28 Carlantino, 29 Tiati (= San Paolo Civitate),
30 San Severo, 31 Lucera, 32 Aecae (= Troia), 33 Orsara di Puglia, 34 Bovino, 35 Arpi,
36 Ascoli Satriano, 37 Ordona, 38 Canosa, 39 Manfredonia/Cupola.
Peucetia
40 Minervino Murge, 41 Ruvo, 42 Bari, 43 Rutigliano, 44 Valenzano, 45 Noicattaro,
46 Gioia del Colle, 47 Egnazia.
Messapia
48 Oria, 49 Brindisi, 50 Valesio, 51 Rudiae, 52 Cavallino, 53 Rocavecchia, 54 Vaste.
Sea route from Etruria to Southern Italy
55 Campora San Giovanni, 56 Scalea, 57 Hipponion (= Vibo Valentia), 58 Metauros (= Gioia Tauro),
59 Reggio Calabria, 60 Locri, 61 Cirò Superiore and Serra Sanguigna, 62 Sibari, 63 Policoro (Siris?),
14 Metaponto, 64 Taranto, 65 Satyrion, 66 Faggiano, 67 Ginosa.
Lucera, Arpi, Aecae, Orsara di Puglia)15 certainly derive from Campanian (particu-
larly, Capuan) models and molds. The Campanian antefixes (originally a system of
coating in clay known as “tetti campani”)16 were a strictly local decoration and during
the fifth century gave rise to later regional production, which continued (but with
few examples) to the beginning of the fourth century. Antefixes with a shell frame,
however, are just one element of the more general problematic question of the rela-
tions, or rather the overlaps and structural parallels between the architecture of
Magna Graecia and that of Etruria.17 Their common use of terracotta frieze plaques
in the early phases of monumental buildings (sacred and otherwise) also shows this.
A fourth land route runs from Campania to Daunia through the valleys of the
Volturno, Calore, Tammaro and Fortore rivers and on to the Adriatic coast. This route
is archeologically marked by the presence of heavy bucchero (“bucchero pesante”)
vases probably made in Campania, although some could have been produced locally.
There were also bronze “Tyrrhenian” embossed rim basins (found in Frentania and
Daunia at Guglionesi, Termoli, Carlantino, Tiati-San Paolo Civitate, Canosa, Manfre-
15 Mazzei 1981; 2010, 190–194; cf. Rescigno 1998, 370–373.

16 Rescigno 1998.
17 Mertens 1980; 1994.

donia/Cupola, Ascoli Satriano, Ordona, and even at Minervino Murge), and Campa-
nian type antefixes with a shell frame and a rare type of silver band tiara with molded
decoration probably produced in Campania (found in a “princely” female tomb in
Cupola dating to the late seventh century).18 Examples have been found in Frentania
(Larino, Termoli, Macchia Valfortore, San Giuliano di Puglia) and Daunia (Carlantino,
Tiati-San Paolo Civitate, San Severo, Bovino, Lucera, Arpi, Ordona) in forms con-
nected to the consumption of wine. These are mostly trefoil mouth oinochoai, cari-
nated bowls, kantharoi, olpai, often found together and concentrated in the late sixth
century.19
It is the presence of bucchero vases, together with the supine position of the
corpses (which indicates a funeral rite extraneous to that of Daunia) that has led to
the supposition that the four graves from the last decades of the sixth century found
in the necropolis of San Severo/Guadone may be referred to individuals of foreign
origin, possibly coming from Frentania or Campanian Etruria.20 An earlier seventh
century indication of the presence of people coming from Etruria (or Campanian
Etruria) is the supine corpse in tomb 104 in the Peucetian necropolis at Rutigliano
excavated in 1979. Here fragments of thin bucchero (“bucchero sottile”) were also
found.21 The warrior buried on his back in grave 103 (excavation 1833) at Ruvo with an
extraordinary collection of weapons may also have had the same origin.22
From the Melfi and Daunia regions, Etruscan and “Tyrrhenian” artifacts were
sent and distributed even to the southernmost areas of Peucezia and Messapia, where
they were the preserve of the local elite. There are a significant number of bronze
artifacts, some of which can probably be assumed to have come from the Adriatic by
sea .23 The oldest example found to date from the last quarter of the seventh century is
a tripod-lebes from Oria, probably produced at Vetulonia. Other “Tyrrhenian” pieces
(or those presumed as such) date to the sixth or beginning of the fifth century. These
include “Rhodian” oinochoai (Rutigliano, Valesio); embossed rim basins (Rutigliano,
Minervino Murge, Noicattaro); basins with flared rims and walls probably produced in
Etruria or Latium (Rutigliano, Rudiae); a Castel San Mariano type podanipter (Vaste);
ribbed pails probably made in Etruscan Po valley which could have arrived in Puglia
via Adriatic trading routes (Brindisi, Rudiae); several examples of Schnabelkannen
(Valenzano); and strainers with undulated handles (Ginosa, Rutigliano).
There are more limited examples from the second half of the fifth and fourth cen-
turies, including a beautiful bronze candelabrum with figured decoration from Ruvo.
18 See esp. Mazzei 1985; De Juliis 1994; 2001. For the “princely” tomb in Cupola see Montanaro 2010c.
19 Mazzei 1985, 264–267; 1993; 2010, 160–163.
20 De Juliis 1977, 53–54; 1984, 313.
21 De Juliis 1981, 468–469; Montanaro 2010a, 188.
22 Montanaro 1999; 2010a, 187–188.
23 See esp. De Juliis 1994; Tarditi 1996, 205–206; De Juliis 2001.

At Canosa and Egnazia, Negau helmets of the Vetulonia type have been found, which
are also known at Cairano. Some examples of third generation Etrusco-Corinthian
pottery would seem to have been documented at Ruvo and Gioia del Colle. Among the
luxury goods destined for members of the Peucetian elite of the Late Archaic, there
are decorated plaques in ivory from a chest likely made at Vulci (Ruvo) and some
gold Etruscan or Etruscan-inspired artifacts (Ruvo, Noicattaro, Rutigliano) including
a necklace with pendants of acorns, lotus flowers and satyr heads dating to around
490–480, which was found at Ruvo and is held in the Naples National Archaeologi-
cal Museum. Some Campanian black-figure vases attributable to the Leo-Gallo and
the Painter of Milano Groups also come from Ruvo.24 The origin of the local produc-
tion of a group of high quality black-figure vases (“apulo-etruschi”)—mostly column
craters25—from the first half of the fifth century in Peucetia and Messapia (Bari,
Rutigliano, Ruvo, Egnazia, Cavallino, Rocavecchia, and Vaste etc.) could be directly
linked to this latter type of pottery decoration,26 or with Etruscan black-figure pro-
duction (particularly with the Painter of Micali workshop at Vulci),27 if not with Attic
black-figure vases.28 Some scholars have proposed that the beginnings of the Apulian
tradition of funerary decoration should be considered alongside the arrival of artisans
coming from Campanian Etruria.29
2 Trade, exchange, mobility: the sea routes

Albeit in a limited way “Tyrrhenian” artifacts reached as far as the Greek colonies of
Magna Graecia.30 The presence of fragments of heavy bucchero (particularly Rasmus-
sen 3e kantharos, the most common type exported outside of Etruria and Italy) has
been documented along the arch of the Ionian coast at necropolises, sanctuaries and
Greek and indigenous settlements. These include Taranto (Taranto, Satyrion, Fag-
giano), Metaponto (from where some older fragments of thin bucchero also come),
Siris (Policoro), Sibari, the Crotone area (Cirò Superiore, Serra Sanguigna) and Locri
Epizefiri.
24 For the “Etruscan” artifacts from Ruvo see Lo Porto 1977; Martelli 1988–1989, 18–19; Montanaro
2006; 2015.
25 Cf. Mannino 2006, 257–258.
26 D’Andria 1988, 668.
27 De Juliis 1994, 544–545.
28 Ciancio 1994-1995, 83–84. Cf. Montanaro 2010b, who identifies in the Apulian area four distinct
black-figure pottery classes.
29 De Juliis 1994, 557–558; Todisco 1994–1995; 1999; De Juliis 2001, 267; cf. Todisco 2006. On the
Apulian influences on the Etruscan art of the Hellenistic period see Fischer-Hansen 1993.
30 See esp. Gras 1979; 1985, 361; Tagliente 1987, 144; Sabbione 2001, 270–273 (with bibliographic
references).

These were vessels that arrived by sea along a route that hugged the coast, and
from the Strait went up the line of the Ionian coast and then headed for Greece. It is
therefore likely that these buccheri can be considered goods carried by Greek mer-
chant-sailors on their way back from the Tyrrhenian Sea. The same explanation prob-
ably applies to the other goods of Etruscan manufacture found along the Ionian coast,
like the ivory plaques decorated with banqueting scenes on a Vulci chest, probably
from the Persefone sanctuary at Locri/Mannella. Other “Tyrrhenian” objects could
have come from Locri but their local provenance has been questioned.31
It is no accident that heavy Campanian type bucchero, Etruscan bronzes and
Etrusco-Corinthian vases were found at Reggio,32 which must have had an important
role on this maritime route that united the “Tyrrhenian” world with Taranto (and
Taranto with Greece). Reggio was one of the places from where Chalcidian vases
reached Etruria during the sixth century via the “Chalcidian” route. These black-fig-
ure vases were probably made in the city of the Strait and were widely exported to
the towns of Tyrrhenian Etruria, where they influenced local painting and ceramic
production. What is more, there is some modest indication of the presence of Etrus-
can goods (buccheri, wine amphorae and metalware mostly dating to the first half of
the sixth century) on the Tyrrhenian side of Calabria from Metauros and Hipponion to
Scalea and Campora San Giovanni.33 In the area of ancient Temesa, among the objects
recovered from the temple outside the town of Imbelli (which was active between the
mid sixth and the first three decades of the fifth century), were found a Py 4A type
Etruscan amphora and a bronze fragment of a crested Villanovian helmet, a sort of
keimelion, consecrated in the sanctuary.34
Ancient literary sources make explicit references to an Etruscan presence in the
lower Tyrrhenian Sea, reporting episodes of piracy35 or naval skirmishes between the
Etruscans and the Greeks from Cnido and Rhodes who had colonized the Aeolian
Islands shortly after the fiftieth Olympiad (580–576).36 Etruscan mercenaries and
adventurers were still arriving at the Strait and in Sicily along the Chalcidian route
until the beginning of the third century.37 Finally we should remember the old tradi-
tion that suggests that there were Etruscans among the disciples of Pythagoras and
the Tyrrhenian origins of the great philosopher himself.38
31 Sabbione 2001, 270–271.

32 Cristofani 1982; Sabbione 2001, 271–272.
33 Sabbione 2001, 272–273.
34 La Torre 2002, 142, 282.
35 E.g., Strabo 6.1.5, who wrote that after 480 BCE, Anaxilaos, the tyrannus of Rhegium, fortified the
promontory of Skylla to prevent Etruscan pirates from going all over the Strait.
36 Ancient sources collected and discussed in Cristofani 1983, 79-85; Colonna 1984b; Torelli 1996;
Colonna 2002b.
37 Tagliamonte 1994, 156–157.
38 Pallottino 1969; Mele 1981, 64.

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Martin Guggisberg
81 Northern Italy
(Piedmont, Veneto, Trentino–Alto Adige,
Friuli–Venezia Giulia)
Abstract: Cultural exchange between Etruria and the regions neighboring it to the north finds expres-
sion beginning in the Villanovan period in an increasing number of foreign goods in the area north of
the Po. In fact the northeastern part of the Po Valley and the adjacent Caput Adriae are comparatively
poor in clearly accountable imports from the early phase of these contacts. Various indirect indica-
tions, however, suggest the conjecture that this picture is due primarily to the vagaries of preservation.
They include the adoption of technological innovations in the north, for instance in wagon-building,
as well as the integration of foreign prestige goods, such as the lozenge-shaped belt plaques of the Vil-
lanovan culture, into the material culture of the Venetians and their neighbors. The last-named object
in particular emphatically clarifies the intensity of the early contacts. Scholarship fully agrees that
the belt plaques decorated with waterfowl and sun symbols incorporate entirely specific spiritual and
religious content. The acquisition of foreign manners of dress must consequently also have involved
an encounter with the ways of thinking of their area of origin. In any case it follows from this that
already in the Villanovan period the cross-cultural contacts went far beyond the sporadic exchange of
exotic goods to also include communication on the intellectual and social levels.
In the period of the Etruscan “colonization” of the Po Valley, the Veneto and the southeast Alpine
region also remain comparatively poor in finds. This holds specifically for imported items of Etruscan
metalwork, whose existence, however, must, on the basis of the acceptance of its repertoire of decora-
tion into situla art, be considered certain. A distinct change emerges with the founding of Etruscan
settlements (Adria, Mantua, Forcello) in the regions across the Po during the sixth century and the
associated intensification of trade, which is reflected inter alia in the importation of Greek pottery that
now begins. Unlike the bronze vessels, the imported pottery is attested in impressive numbers from
the mid sixth century in the Veneto. Both in the formal respect and in reference to the decoration of
the vessels, however, it is clear that in no way does this involve the total adoption of Greek and Etrus-
can ideals as they are manifested in pottery. On the contrary, the selective reception of the Athenian
ceramic repertoire in the area north of the Po already makes it clear that the importation of foreign
goods was substantially determined by the specific needs and wishes of the recipients. Correspond-
ingly it follows that the imports fulfill a function in the native context that differs considerably from
what they had in their places of origin, and this—mutatis mutandis—is also to be assumed for the
preceding periods.
Keywords: import, cultural exchange, trade, Venetians, prestige goods
Introduction and problematics

The northern frontier of Etruria, which is generally considered identical with the
course of the Po, has long been a permeable space. Already in the Bronze Age, traces
of distant cultural contacts have been found that extend beyond the Po Valley into
the southern Alpine valleys and regions beyond the mountains. We refer specifically
1566 Martin Guggisberg
to the settlement of Frattesina near Fratte Polesine in the Veneto, which excavated
materials reveal to have been closely connected with the regions of the Po Valley
and central Italy, but which also functioned as an important junction in a network of
transregional contacts between the Italian peninsula and the northern Alpine area.1
During the ninth and eighth centuries BCE, on the southern edge of the Po Valley a
dynamic branch of the Villanovan culture emerged that was closely tied to the core
region of the Villanova culture in central Italy and simultaneously radiated impulses
to the north. With the Etruscan expansion into the Po Valley from the first half of the
sixth century onwards, cultural exchange with the north took on systematic traits that
left their traces specifically in the area of the Golasecca culture in a proper “Etruscani-
zation” of the local elites.
Archaeologically, the contact is represented by a growing number of imports in
the area north of the Po. For the most part these are valuable items made of bronze
and other costly materials, which—on the basis of their material, their distant origin,
or their exotic form and decoration—enjoyed a high reputation and circulated in
the context of the exchange of prestige goods between high ranking members of the
social elite in both the Mediterranean as well as the non-Mediterranean world. We
refer primarily to weapons, bridles, clothing ornaments, and bronze banquet vessels,
but pottery and glass vessels, primarily of Greek origin, were also exported beyond
the northern borders of Etruria. The same must be assumed for items made of organic
materials, which for obvious reasons have left only limited traces. The export of wine
must have been foremost.2 Moreover, other valuable exotica, such as incense —on the
evidence of a discovery from Como-Rebbio3— were also traded in the north.4
Along with the transfer of goods across the cultural boundaries of Etruria there
was also an exchange of ideas, technologies, and social ways of life, which is often
evidenced only indirectly in the material culture. We may mention for example the
quick spread to the periphery of an aristocratic Etruscan warrior ethos based on mil-
itary success and economic power, which is reflected in the increasing number of
weapons and metal vessels deposited in the tombs of the early Iron Age.5 Later, in the
sixth and fifth centuries, the genesis of new social ways of life can be verified not least
by the increasing number of imports, especially of pottery from Athens, which, more
strongly than before, was characterized by egalitarian criteria.6 The Attic pottery,
For discussion and bibliographic references I am deeply grateful to Camilla Colombi (Basel, Rome),
Christoph Reusser (Zurich), and Alessandro Naso (Innsbruck, Rome).
1 Bianchin Citton 1988; Bietti Sestieri 2010, 195–98.
2 See for example the amphorae from Forcello: de Marinis 2005 and chapter 78 de Marinis.
3 Mattirolo 1932–33.
4 On the trade in raw materials, see generally Stöllner 2004.
5 Cf. Gleirscher 1993, 71–72; Malnati 2003.
6 This conclusion is also suggested by, e.g., the uniform material evidence from Este: Favaretto 1976.
Cf. also the Attic pottery from Como: Casini 2007.

81 Northern Italy 1567
which in many places determines the picture of the contacts, follows uniform formal
and qualitative standards across a wide area. Exchange with the south in this period
appears to have been supported by broader circles, a circumstance that—along with
others—may have been jointly responsible for the emergence of the first protourban
settlement structures in the southern foothills of the Alps.7
1 The first contacts (ca. 800–730 BCE)

With the expansion of the Villanovan culture into the Po Valley, during the ninth
century a dynamic process of economic and cultural interaction with the neighbor-
ing cultural areas set in.8 On the one hand, this can be read off the foreign goods
in the Bologna tombs,9 and on the other from finds of the Villanovan culture in the
area north of the Po. Already in the latter, though, it is often difficult to distinguish
“genuine” imports from Bologna or central Italy from products that were created
in local workshops in imitation of foreign models, a circumstance that alters little,
however, about the facts of cultural contact per se.
From the very beginning, the attention of the protourban center of Villanovan-
period Bologna was directed to the southern Alpine valleys that provided access to
the mountains, and to the regions beyond. Interaction with the inhabitants of the
southern foothills of the Alps appears often to have taken place at intermediate sta-
tions. Specifically, close contacts existed with the great Venetian settlement of Este,
which through its location near the Adige River controlled one of the most important
trade routes into the Alpine region. In the tombs from this area, several objects have
been found that scholars partly classify as “genuine” imports, and partly see as imita-
tions. These include, along with an antenna sword of the Fermo type10 (which has an
exact counterpart in the bronze hoard from San Francesco in Bologna11), a lozenge-
shaped belt plaque with engraved decoration showing spirals and waterfowl from the
rich woman’s burial Este, Pelà Tomb 8.12 It belongs to a type widespread in Etruria,13
of which several examples have also been found in Bologna.14 The Este belt plaque
is probably not an Etruscan “original,” though, but a local imitation, as Raffaele de
7 Capuis 1993, 160–64; Ruta Serafini 2003; De Min et al. 2005; Gambari and Cerri 2011.
8 Locatelli 2003.
9 Such as amber; overview: Malnati 2007.
10 Capuis 1988, 91 fig. 40; 93 no. 176.
11 Morigi Govi and Vitali 1988, 268 fig.
12 Capuis 1988, 92f. no. 178 fig. 41; Pirazzini 2011, 584 no. 5.43.
13 Maggiani 2009; Naso forthcoming.
14 Morigi Govi and Vitali 1988, 236f. with figure. Cf. additional finds from the hoard from San
Francesco in Bologna: Manfroni 2005.

1 Anzio 7 Marradi 13 Prestino

2 Rome 8 Bologna 14 Mechel
3 Poggio Bustone 9 Este 15 Cles
4 “Salino” 10 Oppeano 16 Vadena/Pfatten
5 Fermo 11 Pezze 17 Fliess
6 Verucchio 12 Baldaria 18 Wörgl
Fig. 81.1: Distribution map of the bronze lozenge-shaped belts in Italy, without Tivoli
and San Giovanni in Galilea (compiled by A. Naso)
Marinis has recognized.15 However, the Etruscan provenience of a belt plaque from
Pfatten/Vadena in the Adige Valley is undisputed. Further examples of the same type,
most of which must have been made locally, are known from the necropolis of Bal-
daria in Cologna Veneta near Este,16 from Leifers/Laives17 in the Adige Valley, from
Cles18 and Mechel19 in the Nons Valley, and from Fliess in the upper Inn Valley20 and
15 de Marinis 1999b, 610.

16 de Marinis 1999b, 610; Marzatico and Endrizzi 2009, 48 fig. 12).
17 Marzatico and Endrizzi 2009, 49 fig. 13.
18 Marzatico and Endrizzi 2009.
19 Marzatico and Endrizzi 2009, 50 fig. 16a–b; Zamboni 2011, 584 no. 5.43.
20 Sydow 1995, esp. 9–17; Marzatico and Endrizzi 2009, 50 fig. 17.

Wörgl in the lower.21 In their geographic orientation toward the Adige Valley and the
neighboring valleys of the northern side of the Alps, the findspots clarify the course
and target area of the long-distance contacts of Villanovan-period Bologna and their
orientation along a staged traffic network (Fig. 81.1).
Alongside the belt plaques, which are female clothing accessories, the signifi-
cant role played by high-ranking women in cultural exchange is also expressed in
two bronze spindles from Este, which once again find their best parallels in exam-
ples from Bologna.22 Being an integral component of female dress, belt plaques take
on special significance—they must have most likely “wandered” northward with the
wearers.23 In any case, the finds testify to the penetration of foreign styles of dress into
the Venetian and central Alpine cultural sphere during the eighth century.
Similar contacts are manifested in two bronze tripods with curved legs deco-
rated with eyelets from Este and Novo Mesto.24 They have typological counterparts
in Bologna25 and Vetulonia,26 which, as Giovannangelo Camporeale has convinc-
ingly set out, was in all likelihood the city where they were produced.27 Two more
examples of the same type are known from Verucchio on the Adriatic coast.28 These
vessels should probably be recognized as the expression of a direct long-distance
contact between the Etruscan center on the Tyrrhenian coast and the native power
centers in the southeastern Alpine area, a long-distance contact that also emerges
in the distribution of other bronze items. These include horse bits of the Veii type,
which once again are attested in Bologna, as well as in the Adige Valley with the find
from Pfatten-Stadlhof (Fig. 81.2).29 The latter are probably local imitations, which,
however, just like the well-known horse shaped bronze bit from Zurich-Alpenquai and
another example from the former Komitat of Zolyom north of Budapest, point to the
widespread distribution of the early Etruscan harness. To be taken into consideration
here is not only the export of the horse’s bridle alone, but also of horses as especially
prestigious status symbols of Iron Age elites. In Etruria, where the bits are often con-
signed to the tombs in pairs, horses appear to have served as draft animals pulling
chariots and wagons. It must be more than mere coincidence that at the same time
in the Alpine area and in the regions beyond, Winkeltüllen (construction elements of
21 Zemmer-Plank 1990, 336 figs. 5–7a–b; Marzatico and Endrizzi 2009, 50. This also includes an
example imported from upper Italy: Naso 2011, 284 fig. 1; Sölder 2011, 583 no. 5.41.
22 Capuis 1986–87, 93–94 no. 179.
23 On the role of female dress in early Iron Age Italy: Naso forthcoming.
24 Este, Pelà Tomb 49: Capuis 1988, 94 No. 182 fig. 42; Novo Mesto: Gabrovec 1968; 1992, 212 fig. 7.
25 Bologna, Arsenale Militare Tomb 23: Morigi Govi and Vitali 1988, 254; Camporeale 1969, 39; 1981,
386.
26 Camporeale 1969, 39, pls. 46.3, 47.1.
27 Camporeale 1969, 39; 1981, 386, 389–90; 2009, 12–13.
28 Gentili 2003, 165–66 no. 17, pls. 77, 153.
29 von Hase 1992, 247–48, pl. 66; Gleirscher 1993, 72 fig. 4.

Fig. 81.2: Horse-shaped bronze bit from Pfatten/Vadena

(photo F. Marzatico)
the wagon) appear in large numbers, which point to the adoption of Etruscan wagon
technology.30 Direct evidence of an Etruscan wagon in the Alpine area, however, has
not yet emerged.
The appearance of Etruscan-influenced horse and wagon equipment in elite
funerary practice on the periphery of the early Etruscan world likewise manifests the
adaptation of the native elites to the status- and representation forms of their south-
ern neighbors. In the wider sense this also includes the use of corresponding weapons
and armor, of which the spread of the antenna swords of the Tarquinia type and its
local variants is an example.31 In the eastern Po Valley and the Caput Adriae, antenna
swords are known from Ponte Nuovo di Gazzo Veronese, Este, Preara, Casier, Ba-
gnarola, and Tret in the Val di Non. Although again in many cases originals imported
from the south cannot be distinguished with certainty from local imitations, the
weapon burials and weapon dedications nonetheless reveal the genesis of a warrior
ethos that can be compared over a wide culture area.32
2 The Orientalizing period (ca. 730–580 BCE)

In the Orientalizing period, the export of Mediterranean goods to the north continued.
As in the Villanovan period, the number of verifiable imports to the eastern part of
the Po Valley and the southeastern Alpine headlands remains comparatively limited.
30 von Hase 1992, 262, pl. 77 figs. 26 A–C; Gleirscher 1993, 73; Egg and Pare 1997, 45–51, esp. 47.
31 von Hase 1992, 240f., pls. 58–59; Gleirscher 1993, 71f.; de Marinis 1999a, 543–48 fig. 19.
32 Cf. also Malnati 2003.

Fig. 81.3: Bronze ribbed bowl from Este (after Sciacca 2005)
Alongside the aforementioned tripods from Este and Novo Mesto a ribbed bronze
bowl from Este (Fig. 81.3) must be mentioned33 which belongs to a type attested in
northern Italy by two more examples from the Tomba del Carrettino of Ca’ Morta near
Como.34 These three bronze vessels are of especial significance, because they belong
to a class of object widespread in the north, which with great probability was made in
Vetulonia.35 The available chronological information support a dating of the vessels
to the end of the eighth and the first half of the seventh centuries. The distribution
pattern of the ribbed bowls, whose northernmost findspot is near Frankfurt-Stadt-
wald (Fig. 83.1),36 suggests that behind their export hides a deliberate strategy of the
early Etruscan rulers of Vetulonia. It is a short step to accept that the tripods from Este
and Novo Mesto are also to be seen in a similar context, though remarkably, these are
not yet attested north of the Alps, while the ribbed dishes are not found in the south-
east Alpine region.
Among the most significant traces of Vetulonian bronze exports in the Oriental-
izing period belongs with great probability the well-known bronze basin from Ca-
stelletto Ticino, decorated with a frieze of fabulous animals (Fig. 81.4), whose closest
stylistic parallel is the bronze disk decorated with sphinxes and lions from the “Circle
of the Sphinxes” from Vetulonia.37 The richly ornamented bronze basin from Castel-
letto Ticino, which dates to the first half of the seventh century, takes on a special
position among the early Etruscan imports in the area north of the Po. The assump-
tion that it was transferred northward in the framework of an individual exchange of
prestige goods between rulers of the two sides of the cultural boundary of the Po is
tempting and so has long been seen. Camporeale has recently postulated an origin in
a Vetulonian workshop for the well-known bronze pyxis from Appenwihr (Fig. 83.3).38
33 The findspot of the bowl is unknown: Frey 1969, 69 fig. 32.1; Sciacca 2005, 88 fig. 116.
34 Sciacca 2005, 87–88, 377–78, Co1–Co2 figs. 114–15.
35 Camporeale 2009; Sciacca 2005.
36 Fischer 1979, 44, 72, pls. 9.2, 20.1, 21.
37 On the basin from Castelletto Ticino: Brown 1960, 23, pl. 11b; Gambari 1988, 82–83 fig. 35. On the
location of the workshop in Vetulonia: Schiering 1978; Camporeale 2009, 6–7. Cf. also Berger 1982.
38 Jehl and Bonnet 1968; Camporeale 2009.

Various indications suggest that after its manufacture, the piece was reworked and
altered.39 The ribbed bowl found together with the pyxis was also modified afterward,
in this case by the addition of two bronze rings. The two vessels from Appenwihr make
it clear that the Mediterranean prestige goods led an independent “life” in the “Bar-
baricum” and possibly were used within local networks of gift exchange.
The findspot thus need not a priori be identical with the original destination of
the vessels. Nevertheless, on the whole there emerges a coherent distribution area of
Vetulonian vessel exports, which on the one hand is oriented via the Swiss Alpine
passes into the Rhine Valley and on the other via the Veneto into the southeast Alpine
region (Fig. 83.2).
Moreover, there appear to have been contacts between the two export axes: thus it
is possibly more than a mere coincidence that the two bronze vessels from Appenwihr
mentioned above were associated with a bronze sieve that is thought to have been
produced in Este or the extended area of the Caput Adriae.40
It is tempting to assume that the strong engagement of Vetulonia in establishing
contact with the north is connected with the city’s leading role as center of Etrus-
can mining efforts in the Colline Metallifere. It is obvious that not only the Greeks
and Phoenicians were interested in Etruscan metal and metal technology, but also
the neighbors to the north. What moved Vetulonia’s rulers to maintain or even to
use costly gifts to promote contact with the northern neighbors? What gifts did they
receive in return for the ore and the technological know-how that they sent north?
Scholarship plausibly argues that it was done with goods that cannot be documented
archaeologically, such as perishable items and human resources in the form of slaves
and mercenaries. Material transfer from north to south can be grasped more con-
cretely in the example of some selected bronze vessels, among them the Kreuzat-
taschenkessel, which occasionally reached as far as the core Etruscan area and are
probably to be regarded as return gifts in the framework of a reciprocal gift exchange
between the elites of the two sides of the Po (Fig. 82.4).41 These vessels, which are dis-
tributed north and south of the Alps, are concentrated in two centers near the Caput
Adriae, which is probably where they were made—the eastern Veneto on one side and
Slovenia and Istria on the other—thus, the same two zones that on the evidence of
the aforementioned tripod and ribbed bowls stood at the focus of Etruscan trading
interests. Given this background of cultural connections, it cannot be by chance that
among the Kreuzbandkessel exported to the south an example has also been found at
Vetulonia (Fig. 82.4).42 But what made the rulers at the Caput Adriae attractive trading
39 Rolley 1988, 97f.; von Hase 1992, 257f., pl. 74 figs. 21.1–2, 22; Plouin and Bonnet 1996, 63–64;
Chaume 2004, 88, 90 fig. 15.
40 Jehl and Bonnet 1957, 25 fig. 9; Egg 1996, 109 fig. 62; Adam 1997, 9. Cf. also Chaume 2004.
41 Egg 1985, 373–77 with distribution map in fig. 40.
42 Camporeale 1969, 29, pl. 3.1–3.

Fig. 81.4: Bronze basin from Castelletto Ticino

(after Italia omnium terrarum alumna, Milan 1988)
partners for the Etruscans? It seems likely that raw materials played a major role. We
may consider metals from the Alpine region, but also amber, which already in the Ori-
entalizing period appears south of the Alps in increasing quantity, including in Vetu-
lonia.43 A large part of this fossilized material that came from the Baltic region44 must
have been brought through the eastern Alpine passes to the Caput Adriae and from
there was traded either overland or by sea to northern Italy. In the framework of this
trans-Adriatic “amber trade” the settlement of Verucchio acquired a leading role, and
from there the raw material was taken farther into the central areas of Italy, includ-
ing Bologna, where amber goods experienced a real boom in the late eighth and the
seventh centuries.45 The appearance of Etruscan tripods of the Vetulonian type in
the amber town of Verucchio, discussed above, fits into this background, confirming
the model of a trans-European transportation and trade network in the Orientalizing
period driven by Etruria, in which Vetulonia played a leading part.
That Etruscan products themselves reached the Baltic and the Atlantic only in
exceptional cases does not necessarily contradict the supposition of purposeful
trading relations with the distant lands a priori. Thus the Celtic potentate of Frankfurt-
Stadtwald may well have come into possession of a Vetulonian ribbed bowl, because
his sphere of control lay on an important long-distance route that led farther north.46
He would thus have come to the attention of the Etruscans for the same reason as his
peers, who controlled the trade routes across the Alps farther south.
43 Camporeale 2007, 42–45.

44 Analyses of the finds from southern Switzerland show that nearly 90 percent of the amber is from
the Baltic: Beck and Stout 2000.
45 Malnati 2007.
46 In this sense it is probably more than pure chance that the tomb lies not far from the Main, which
blocks the route to the north.

Distant trans-European relationships of the Early Iron Age find concrete manifes-
tation in a biconical bronze amphora from Gevelinghausen on the lower Rhine, whose
best comparisons come from Villanovan-period Veii (Figs. 44.1 and 44.2).47 Of a some-
what younger date is the cauldron that gave its name to the Hassle type in Sweden.
It has good parallels in Caere and Monteleone near Perugia.48 While in some cases it
must be left open how the imports reached their findspots, they show that the radius
of Mediterranean goods—and therefore probably of the people who stood behind the
transfer of these goods—reached far beyond the area of the middle Rhine.
Unlike Lombardy and the nearby southern Swiss Alpine valleys, where trans-
Alpine communication is manifest in the continuous deposit of finds into the fifth
century, the Venetian and southeast Alpine regions are distinguished in the same
period by a notable absence of imports. Two basins with embossed rim from Vače and
Magdalenska gora,49 two “Bolognese ribbed cists,” the handle of a Schnabelkanne
from Este,50 and the handle attachment of a bronze situla from Padova51 belong to
the scant material evidence of exchange of goods with the south, which incidentally
might have taken place not only over land routes, but also by sea.52 Various consid-
erations, however, suggest that this picture depends on the archaeological record and
therefore does not correspond to ancient reality. Here we must refer first to the retro-
spective pictorial tradition of situla art that was native to this area, brought to notice
by Otto-Hermann Frey. The oldest demonstrable representatives of this style can be
dated to the years around 600, including the famous situla from Tomb 73 at Este,
Benvenuti.53 Stylistic features in the formulation of the figured friezes and vegetal
ornaments, however, point back to the Orientalizing period of the seventh century.54
It is natural to suppose that the icongraphic models of sixth and fifth century
situla art are to be sought in imports from the Etruscan area which have not been
preserved, an assumption that appears to be confirmed not least by the existence of
clay imitations of Schnabelkannen in the area,55 not to mention the well-known belt
47 Jockenhövel 1974; Iaia 2005, 163–69.

48 von Hase 1992, 243f., 258f.
49 Krausse 1996, 269–73.
50 Frey 1989, 298, 300 fig. 2.2 (Schnabelkanne). On the ribbed cist: Stjernquist 1967, 58f. nos. 97, 98. On
ribbed cists in general: Micozzi 2001a; 2001b; Dehn et al. 2005, 165–78.
51 Frey 1989, 298, 300 fig. 2.1
52 Trans-Adratic contacts must especially be responsible for the conveyance of the two pearl dishes
from Vače and Magdalenska gora, which find their closest parallels in central Italy: Krausse 1996, 273.
A dish that is not entirely typologically equivalent comes from Nesactium: Krausse 1996, 430 no. 262.
53 Lucke 1962, 62–66 no. 7 fig. 8.17, pls. 23–26, 65.
54 Lucke 1962, 56. From the extensive recent literature on situla art we mention only Zaghetto 2002;
Zaghetto 2006; and Huth 2003.
55 Este, Morlungo: Find from a disturbed tomb: Capuis 1993, 204; Tombolani 1988, 148–49 no. 694.
On Schnabelkannen in general: Vorlauf 1995.

Fig. 81.5: Bronze belt plaque from Este, Carceri (after Frey 1969)
plaque from Este, Carceri (Fig. 81.5), on which a symposium scene according to the
Graeco-Etruscan tradition is portrayed, once again making use of a Schnabelkanne.56
Strong influences from Etruria are also manifested in the famous cult wagon from
Strettweg, whose rich figural decoration is hardly imaginable without models from
the south (Fig. 82.6).57 Unlike the bronze vessels with engraved and embossed deco-
ration, which are adapted from Etruscan pottery and metal originals, the statuettes
on the wagon from Strettweg stand under the influence of Etruscan figurines. Are we
to accept that as well as tableware, sculptural works were exported into the contact
zone north of Etruria as well? This question is of special consequence because the
figural Etruscan bronzes occur in a different context from the imported vessels. While
the latter reveal a connection with the symposium and the banquet, the bronze figu-
rines are mostly connected with cultic requirements, as is very clearly expressed in
the wagon from Strettweg. Independent of the question as to whether the wagon was
built directly on the model of an Etruscan cult wagon or whether it represents an
independent creation that derives only indirectly from southern models, on the whole
it follows from it that the native bronzesmiths closely oriented their work to the Etrus-
can figurative small-sized sculptures.58
The two examples demonstrate that the Etruscan export of goods to the north-
east must have been considerably more intensive than can yet be recognized from the
picture transmitted by the archaeological record.
56 Frey 1969, 44, 83–84, 86, 98, 105, pl. 28.15; 67. We may also mention the bronze figurine of a nude
worshiper from Padua, who holds a Schnabelkanne in the left hand and an omphalos dish in the right:
Frey 1989, 301–2 fig. 3; Capuis 1993, fig. 57.
57 Egg 1996, 14–51.
58 Relevant models are works like the warrior figurine from Este, Scolo di Lozzo, that probably came
from Etruria, and which in its attenuated, scarcely articulated body closely resembles the figures from
Strettweg: Capuis 1988, 91, 93 no. 177; Huth 2003, 239 pl. 87.1.

3 The period of the foundation of Etruscan cities

in the Po Valley (sixth–fifth centuries BCE)
With the founding of the Etruscan harbor towns of Adria and Spina in the second
and third quarters of the sixth century, trade relations with the north changed.59
Besides goods that traveled farther north by land routes across the Apennines, wares
increasingly appear that were distributed from the Adriatic coast along the course of
the Po and other rivers. To the latter belongs in all probability a large portion of the
Greek pottery that appear in increasing numbers from the middle of the sixth century
onward in the Veneto and eastern Lombardy.60 Among the oldest pottery imports,
an amphoriskos of the Fikellura style from Forcello that dates to the third quarter
of the sixth century deserves to be mentioned.61 The vessel belongs to a style rarely
found in Etruria. All the stronger, therefore, weighs the proof of a second Fikellura
amphoriskos in Adria, which underlines the role of the Etruscan harbor town in the
development of the interior beyond the Po.62
At about the same time, in the second half of the sixth century, Attic pottery
begins to appear increasingly in settlements in the Veneto, although the paths of
origin cannot be determined with certainty. Land transport via Bologna is just as
likely as the sea route. More important than the question of provenience is the fact
that export from the Etruscan centers was no longer limited to their own goods, but
Attic ceramics and products originating outside Etruria were sent north as well. The
Etruscans thus functioned in this case as brokers for foreign products.
Athenian vessels thus experienced a double cultural transformation, which is
reflected for example in the formal composition of the finds in the indigenous con-
texts north of the Po. Drinking cups are by far the most common, while mixing and
pouring vessels, which in Greece and Etruria are major components of symposium
paraphernalia, are only occasionally found.
59 According to a recent book by Luisa Bertacchi, Aquileia would also have been an Etruscan
foundation (Bertacchi 2009). The thesis is based on a group of fifty-eight Etruscan vessels of unknown
provenience that was handed over to the author under dubious circumstances, but since to date no
Etruscan pottery from secure contexts is known in Aquileia, an Etruscan origin of the city remains
highly doubtful.
60 Gamba 1986; Bonomi 1988; Bonomi 2000; de Marinis 2005; Wiel-Marin 2005; Lenzi 2007–8.
Two aryballoi of the late proto-Corinthian and Italo-Corinthian styles from Este precede the phase
dealt with here: Este, Rebato, Tomb 100: Favaretto 1976, 44, pl. 20.1; Lenzi 2007–8, 86, pl. 15a;
unprovenienced, Vienna, Naturhistorisches Museum: Frey 1989, 297 n. 35; Woldrich 1978, 39–40, 207.
On the two vessels also: Capuis and Chieco Bianchi 1992, 70 fig. 54, 106 n. 66; Bruni 1998, 205 with
footnote 15. For Lombardy see chapter 78 de Marinis.
61 Wiel-Marin 2005, 139f. fig. 63.
62 Bonomi 1991, pl. 1.1–3.

It is striking that the repertoire of images on the Attic ceramics exported to the
north also clearly differs from that on finds from Etruria, and even more strongly from
those found in Greece. Mythological and religious themes find virtually no echo on
the imported vessels. Instead, what prevails are noncommital “everyday” pictures,
scenes from the palaestra, and disconnected Dionysiac themes. Also noteworthy is
the preference for vessels without figural decoration. Black-glazed vessels and vessels
with purely geometric or floral ornament are found in disproportionate number
among the imported pottery from the area north of the Po. As an example we may
mention the spread of the favored floral-band cups, which are also well attested in
Etruria.63 But with respect to the northern Italic region, there is a clear discrepancy
in distribution. While they are only occasionally found in the area south of the Po,
they appear in the regions north of the river in strikingly larger numbers. At least one
example has been found in the central Alpine region, in Sanzeno.64
The floral-band cups are also found in remarkable numbers in Adria and For
cello.65 Thus, the distribution of the vessels consequently appears to reflect a spe-
cific mechanism of distribution and reception, which was decisively controlled by the
Etruscan centers in Adria and Forcello and tailored to the needs of the local custom-
ers.
4 Conclusions
Cultural exchange between the Etruscans and their neighbors to the north found
expression from Villanovan times onward in an increasing number of imports. Of
course precisely the northeastern part of the Po Valley and the adjacent Caput Adriae
are comparatively poor in clearly accountable foreign finds, which is likely due pri-
marily to accidents of preservation. Across the entire time span dealt with here, from
the eighth to the fifth century, a widespread reception of the Etruscan stock of forms
and the imagery preserved on them can be observed in the material legacy of the
native cultures of the Veneto and the eastern Alpine area. Prerequisites for that are
intensive personal contacts between the various interest groups taking part in the
exchange, which must also have been accompanied by the adoption of intellectual
ideas and social practices from the south. Despite this close interaction with the Etrus-
can world, the cultural appearance of the Venetians and their northern and north-
eastern neighbors is distinguished overall by a noteworthy independence, which is
expressed not least in their free and independent dealings with imported goods.
63 Pierro 1984, 143–52; Iacobazzi 2004, 215–17.

64 Cavada 1990, 26f., 34f. figs. 2–3.
65 Only a few representative examples need be mentioned: Bonomi 1991, pl. 37.3–5; Wiel-Marin 2005,
248f.

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Naso, A. 2011. “Ornamenti, moda, simboli di potere e di prestigio nel primo millennio a.C.” In Le
grandi vie delle civiltà. Relazioni e scambi fra Mediterraneo e il centro Europa dalla preistoria
alla romanità, exhibition catalogue, edited by F. Marzatico, R. Gebhard, P. Gleirscher, 283–286.
Trento: Castello del Buonconsiglio.
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70: 331–46.

Etruscan Finds in Europe

Gerhard Tomedi
82 South and southeast Central Europe
Abstract: The archaeological record provides insights into the encounters of these neighboring cul-
tural groups and allows to note the striking similarities in late Bronze Age material culture between
the Apennine peninsula and the zone north of the Alps.
During the ninth and eighth centuries BCE, goods from the Alpine and southeastern Alpine area
first appeared in rich male burials. At first glance, settlement patterns like pre-urban centers in both
regions appear similar, but in fact, they are not. After the advancement to a sophisticated civiliza-
tion, the Etruscans must have been seen as somewhat like a desirable paradigm to the local cultural
groups.
Keywords: Veneti; southeastern Hallstatt culture; protourban centers; gift exchange
Introduction
The judging of the relationship between Etruria, the Veneti and the southeastern
Hallstatt culture was notoriously controversial for a long time. The extreme and often
unilateral mentalities of earlier researchers are sufficiently known. The school of dif-
fusionism, propagated mostly in older research, was simply taken for granted, as
it was assumed that creative centers of the South had supplied the little-developed
North with excellent goods.1 But some effective studies—notably those by Gero von
Merhart—showed in some cases a technical primacy of Central Europe.2 So the “Italic
fascination” came into doubt for the first time.
A precise chronology is crucial for the comparative assessment of the dynamics of
the production of valuable goods, as well as of the social behavior and their deducible
implications. In the meantime we have reliable dates and no longer depend on poor
chronological estimations, based on alleged stylistic developments of middle and
late geometric Greek ceramics imported into Central Italy. However these finds have
broken ground for some newer important detailed studies that show complex large-
scale interactions of supra-regional groups north and south of the Apennine ridge.
Looking back to the late Bronze Age we must keep in mind the striking similarities in
the material culture between the Apennine peninsula and the zone north of the Alps
(see chapter 44 Iaia).3 Thus, some neo-diffusionist essays will be neglected here.4
1 Åberg 1931/32.
2 von Merhart 1952.
3 Müller-Karpe 1959.
4 Simplified core-periphery model: Sherrat 1993; erroneously on the spread of iron technology:
Vandkilde 2007; cf. Delpino 1988.
1586 Gerhard Tomedi
1 Settlement patterns in Etruria

Without a doubt, the most serious change in the social life of early Etruscan commu-
nities proceeded in the tenth century BCE when almost every small late Bronze Age
village and hamlet was abandoned, and vast protourban centers were founded.5 Actu-
ally, we can observe the change in social systems, from a large group of segmented
societies in Elmer Service’s sense6 to large communities on their way to becoming
early city states (see chapter 33 Pacciarelli).
Despite few excavations, the course of events of this occurrence is reliably
explained by clearly distinguishable tomb groups surrounding the new centers, which
have been interpreted as the cemeteries of the main lineages (Lat. gentes) involved in
this process.7 Besides thoughtful planning and adequate logistics, the creation and
construction of such vast settlements required a very large number of laborers.
Apart from the increased potential of community services, this population growth
also increased the supply of resources and goods, access to mineral resources, and “a
constant flow of information.”8 This obviously must have been the deciding point,
according to the theory of the school of memetics in the sense of Richard Dawkins.9
At any rate, beginning in the eighth century in Central Italy we observe an increa-
sein the production of fine goods that shows quick changes in modes and styles, from
which we can determine a chronology. Only a few generations after the foundation
of these protourban centers, a process of social differentiation began, which created
powerful military leaders from upper-class families, and monarchs (reges) who were
able to affront the desirousnesses of the Phoenicians and Greeks of land, mineral
resources and other goods (see chapter 47 Naso).
But before the discussion of the interactions between the elites of Etruria and
those from the south and south-east Alpine regions it seems appropriate to recall in
mind at first the settlement patterns in the regions considered here.
The foundation of vast settlements on Etruscan hilltops during the ninth century
was of course not a unique phenomenon in prehistoric Europe. Apart from Early
or Middle Bronze Age complexes, many fortified hill forts were founded in Central
Europe in the twelfth century, but none survived until the Hallstatt period (eighth to
fifth centuries). They are evidence only of an ephemeral type of dwellings.
5 di Gennaro 1982; Pacciarelli 2001.

6 Service 1971.
7 Pacciarelli 2010, 22–23.
9 Dawkins 1976.

82 South and southeast Central Europe 1587
2 Protourban centers in the South-Alpine area

In the ninth century, on the fruitful plains south of the Alps between the Adige and
Piave Rivers, the Este culture (It. cultura atestina) grew from the roots of a flourishing
Bronze Age culture (Fig. 82.1). Since in many cases the Iron Age settlement areas are
covered by contemporary cities, excavations could only be conducted in small sec-
tions. It was crucial to determine if the early settlements had covered the whole area
or if the later protourban centers had grown around small late Bronze Age villages.
At Oppeano, the gentle plateau near the Adige River was covered by a huge city-
like settlement of approximately eighty hectares, even in the Early Iron Age. Ales-
sandro Guidi and Massimo Saracino have emphasized, “that the old theory of the
‘phase difference’ in the urbanization process between Central and Northern Italy is
evermore unsustainable.”10
At Padua near the Brenta River, the waterlogged soil in many areas brought the
main problem to the settlers.11 It became necessary to build drainage channels to keep
the water away. Steeper zones were covered with clay to archive flat surfaces. Many of
these large and collective constructive works date to the eighth century.
The graves of the ninth and eighth centuries consisted mostly of small fosse in
which were disposed an urn containing some personal attire and a bowl as a lid. Due
to excellent excavation techniques it was also possible to recognize shallow barrows,
circumscribed by wooden crepis covering the cremation graves. The reopening of
tombs for the insertion of secondary burials was quite common.12
Anyway the ties among the families must have been still strict due to distinctive
grave districts. The famous “Tomba del Re”13 and the “Tomba dei Vasi Borchiati”14
were discovered to the east of the settlement, and the grave rich in finds 31815 was to
the south of the settlement.
The topographic situation at Este is similar. The prominent necropolises of Casa
di Ricovero and Via Santo Stefano are situated northeast of the medieval Castel
Morlungo,16 and the Fondo Rana zone is far to the east of the old core of the huge
protourban center of Este.17 From the late seventh century onwards, the center was
surrounded by five sanctuaries dedicated to different sophisticated cults, showing
many variations in the rituals that took place there in honor of a multitude of deities.18
10 Guidi and Saracino 2008, 135.

11 Gamba, Gambacurta and Sainati 2005.
12 Michelini and Ruta Serafini 2005.
13 Calzavara 1981, 229–31, pl. 47–8.
14 Chieco Bianchi 1981, 248–58, pl. 53–7.
15 Michelini and Ruta Serafini 2005, 135–6, figs. 181–5.
16 Fogolari 1988, fig. 17.
17 Ruta Serafini 2002, pl. 1.
18 Maggiani 2002.

1588 Gerhard Tomedi
Fig. 82.1: Major cultural groups in the south and south-east Alpine Area and sites mentioned
in the text
But what would become the future city grew from an aggregation of small settlements
dating from the eleventh to the ninth centuries.19 The pre-urban settlement shows
no traces of strong fortifications. On the contrary, it was situated on the plain at the
southern foot of Monte Caleone. Defense was obviously not an important factor to the
inhabitants, whose steadily increasing social stratification is also eveident. Only on
the periphery, on the southern slopes of the Alps, many natural or artificially fortified
smaller settlements could be detected, that probably secured the main routes to the
mineral resources of the Alps. Since some were abandoned in the ninth and eighth
centuries, Giovanni Leonardi argues that people would have left in favor of the stead-
ily growing new centers,20 an occurrence also considered in light of the decline of the
vast Bronze Age settlement of Montagnana Borgo San Zeno.21
19 Bianchin Citton 2005.

20 Leonardi 2010.
21 Arobba et al. 1998.

The topographic situation and the settlement patters differ from Etruria consider-
ably. Anyway, the mode of the foundation and the social background indicate some-
what like a “Venetic model”. Of course, both the Etruscans and Veneti succeeded in
establishing long-lasting population centers. Both must have had developed inter-
nal structures comparable to the “arts of navigation” in Plato’s sense ruling a state
(Pl., Plt. 299 c) to succeed in organizing the crowded early city states.
3 Protourban centers in the Southeast Alpine area

The landscape of Lower Carniola (Dolenjsko, Slovenia) is somewhat similar to Etruria.
The area between the Sava and Krka Rivers is subdivided by numerous streams into
areas that feature tall hills and fertile basins.
Researchers recognized some fortified hilltop settlements quite early on,22 but
a systematical exploration only began much later.23 A first milestone was the exca-
vations at Stična.24 A huge hill fort connected to the tumuli led Stane Gabrovec to
suggest a “Stična-type” of habitat (Fig. 82.2).25
The so-called Cvinger at Stična encompasses an area of twenty hectares. Of great
importance is the fact that the whole rampart was erected within a very short time
frame, which has to be the result of a logistical mastery.
The hill fort is surrounded by many differently sized grave mounds. Apart from
some humble burials, the larger tumuli also contained richly provided graves, which
Gabrovec calls relics of primi inter pares.26 Since several mounds have been contem-
poraneous erected, they have been bound to a social structure based on families or
clans. Graves of socially disadvantaged groups were located in flat cemeteries, which
are much more difficult to trace, so that the total number of estimated inhabitants
seems to fit to the available area of the settlement. Phil Mason demonstrates that the
social landscape included some newly discovered lowland settlements.27
Between 1981 and 2005, the Slovenian Academy of Arts and Science explored
eighty-five hilltop settlements as part of a special research project, which was pub-
lished by Janez Dular and Sneža Tecco Hvala.28 Numerous testing trenches have been
dug and they revealed some surprises. Seven minor hill forts were erected as early as
the twelfth or eleventh centuries, a further thirty-three in the tenth or ninth century,
22 Gabrovec 1975.
23 Dular 1992.
24 Gabrovec 1966; 1970; 1994.
25 Gabrovec 1994, 85.
26 Gabrovec 1993/94, 79.
27 Mason 1996.
28 Dular and Tecco Hvala 2007.

1590 Gerhard Tomedi
Fig. 82.2: Map of the fortified hill fort Cvinger at Stična and the surrounding grave mounds
(after Gabrovec 1994)
seven of which were continuously settled into the Hallstatt period. Thus, the settle-
ment patterns of the late Urnfield period are contemporaneous with the founding of
the large Etruscan protourban centers. The largest hill forts, of ten to twenty hectares
were built during the time of transition from the late Urnfield to the Hallstatt periods

Fig. 82.3: Synopsis of the extremely rich grave fittings in the grave at Kleinklein in Styria
(after Egg, Kramer 2005)
(thus app. above 800 BCE), a period of rapid expansion that led to a flourishing
culture.
In order to achieve a hierarchy of settlements, Dular and Tecco Hvala evaluated
the dimensions of the settlements and of the accompanying cemeteries, and the level
of wealth in the burials. This led to a comprehensive grouping of leading and minor
hill forts. Although it is not expressly written by the two scholars, one might think
on well-defined territories of leading protourban centers and their hinterland with
dependent settlements similar to Greek city states.29
The societies of the southeastern Alpine Early Iron Age must have faced quite
different circumstances, including raids by eastern horse people around 600, and the
“Celtic” invasion in the third century.30
Another cultural group covering middle and eastern Carinthia and southern
Styria shows a different picture. Most of the grave mounds contain a central grave
and not always only a few secondary burials.31 Other than Poštela, near Maribor, hill
forts have been poorly explored. Due to the lack of sufficient data at the moment it
seems impossible to point to clear settlement patterns.32 The area on the Burgstallko-
29 Cf. Teržan 2010, 324–5.

30 Teržan 1998.
31 Dobiat 1980, 154–6; Tomedi 2002, 99–109.
32 Tomedi 2002, fig. 61b.

1592 Gerhard Tomedi
gel (Styria, Austria) in the valley of the river Sulm, is extremely small (approximately
one hectare).33 This could be explained by the very special social structure. The rich
graves of three or even four generations of extremely powerful warriors could be inter-
preted as burials of kings in the sense of a regulus as the Romans would have denomi-
nated such persons (Fig. 82.3).34
4 Structural similarities and differences

It is evident that neither the foundation of hilltop settlements nor of protourban
centers was exclusively Etruscan. We know little about their fortifications, which
have been often heavy disturbed by later buildings.35 Most of the largest hill forts in
Dolenjsko were erected in the eighth century, approximately a century later than in
Etruria.36 Completely different from both was the land-use in the Veneto, with large
undefended major and minor centers in the plain connected by a system of small sites
in the hilly hinterland.
A cursory view of the graveyards shows some analogies between the settlements
in Etruria, Veneto and Dolenjsko. Namely, the burials are grouped by family, which
has led to the idea of an oligarchic structure.37
At least partially Etruscan communities abandoned from the beginning of the
protourban phase the structure of family-based societies. At Veii the burials in the
Quattro Fontanili cemetery are not grouped by family, but are grouped in chrono-
logical order of the deceased, and without a strict spatial separation of poor or high
ranked persons.38 One might think of this cemetery as a common graveyard of an early
city-state’s community.
Also the forms of the burials differs in considerable way. Urn graves in flat cem-
eteries sometimes in dolia are the typical form in the elder phases in Etruria, inhu-
mations appears in the course of the eighth century, grave mounds at the end of this
century39. Cremation was the predominant burial rite of the Veneti, the urns deposed
in stone cists that were often reopened for further burials of the same family.40 In
33 Smolnik 1996.
34 Egg 1996b.
35 Pacciarelli 1991; Boitani 2008; Cygielman and Poggesi 2008; Torelli 2008.
36 Except Libna-Sveti Marjeta: Dular and Tecco Hvala 2007, fig. 24; 110.
37 The use of the term “oligarchy” should be understood in the sense of Plato (Pl. Plt. 291e) as a
governing form of some few leaders and not as the perverting of an aristokratia (Pl. Plt. 301a; 301c).
38 Close-Brooks 1965, 53–64; Toms 1986, figs. 10–14.
39 Naso 2011.
40 Balista and Ruta Serafini 1991; few inhumations in Padua: Michelini, Ruta Serafini 2005.

several cases these graves became enclosed by stone slabs or a wooden crepis appar-
ently covered by small mounds.
Erecting tumuli was a changing custom. In Dolenjsko tumuli appear at the begin-
ning of the eighth century, containing first only a few urn graves and later in the
course of the same century, an increasing number of inhumations. In the late seventh
century, there could be up to 164 burials. Therefore the architecture of the graves in
these three regions shows autonomous developments.
Claus Dobiat has compared grave chambers of dry walls with a dromos in the
royal tumulus called Kröllkogel in the valley of the Sulm (Styria, Austria) and further
examples in Süttő, Vaskeresztes (Transdanubia, Hungary), Pivola (Štajersko, Slo-
venia) and Martijanec (Varaždin County, Kroatia) with structurally similar grave
mounds in Etruria.41
5 Material culture
5.1 Swords from ‘the north’ in ninth century Etruria
Solid hilted swords belong to the tradition of central European bronze smiths (see
chapter 44 Iaia). Antenne swords find their antecessors in the north-Alpine three-
ridged types. Instead, a completely different tradition shows the flange-hilted swords
with pommel in use from the late Bronze Age in Central Italy and in Calabria (see
chapter 11 Egg), rightly called spade italiche by Vera Bianco Peroni.42
The antenne sword in grave M 3 at Tarquinia-Arcatelle appears as a heavy news in
the local weaponry (Fig. 41.2).43 Of course one should not rely on the often-repeated
depreciatory estimation of the Etruscans as notorious copyists.44 Much more ade-
quate is the predication of Louis Daniel Nebelsick, who emphasized the ‘ostentatious
presentation’ of foreign contacts by leaders of the social elites.45 This fits with the idea
of the eminent chieftain of a family that soon will take over the leading role in the
social fabric of Tarquinia much better.46
The manner and methods of contacts with Central European chieftains remains
unclear. At the moment when in Etruria sophisticated burial manners appeared, in
Central Europe a new canon of burial rites had banned to put distinctive goods in the
41 Dobiat 1985; Egg 1996b.

42 Bianco Peroni 1970, 78–96; pl. 70 C–D; 71 A–D.
43 Hencken 1968, 504.
44 Izzet 2007.
45 Nebelsick and Kaus 2000, 136.

1594 Gerhard Tomedi
graves. Antenne swords comparable to the item from Tarquinia were mainly found in
lakes in modern day Switzerland.47 A geographical connection between Etruria and
modern day Switzerland has given by the sword found in a grave in Ponte Nuovo at
Gazzo Veronese in the Po valley, dating to the second half of the ninth century, the
same period of the burial at Tarquinia.48
Swords should not only be seen as weapons. The small number of finds from
Etruscan necropolises in comparison to warrior graves in other places equipped with
axes or spears reveals the leading position of their bearers. Etruscan chieftain burials,
therefore, deliver an excellent paradigm for the funerals with swords in the south and
southeast Alpine region, which were often sparsely equipped.
During the eighth century, the design of Etruscan antenne swords were changed
slightly,49 whereas in the south and southeast Alpine regions they were completely
reshaped;50 they were called by Markus Egg “traditional swords.”51 Bologna, the
Etruscan Felsina, was certainly a point of interception, because besides prestige goods
from the south and north, almost all variations have appeared here (see chapter 44
Iaia). These insignia connect the leading Etruscan warriors with the ‘koiné adriatica’
in the sense of Renato Peroni.52
5.2 Warriors in movement
No data exist about one or two Italic swords of the Vulci-type, which are reputed to
have come from Stična and are now in the British Museum.53 Since Biba Teržan had
noted the tendency to shorter blades of arms for the close combat as an influence of
Etruscan warfare, these Italic swords might have been a key role in south-east Euro-
pean weaponry, if the provenance is correct.54
A Villanovan type helmet was discovered in Hallstatt, the eponymous site in the
heart of the Alps. Unfortunately, the records of grave 49 (so called Linz excavations)
are too contradictory for a reliable interpretation.55
47 Krämer 1985, 35–9.

48 de Marinis 1999, 537–48.
50 De Marinis 1999, 537–48; von Quillfeld 1995, 196–211.
51 Egg 1986b; Tomedi 1996.
52 Peroni 1973; Guidi 1983.
53 Dular 1974; Harding 1995, 61; Bietti Sestieri and Macnamara 2007, nos. 745–6.
54 Teržan 2010, 285.
55 Egg 1978b; Iaia 2005, 88 no. 35.

Another fragment of a Villanovan helmet was found in a vertical cave—the Mušja

jama—in the Karst region of Slovenia (Notranjsko) as one of many offerings once
deposed there.56 It might have been booty sacrificed to an underworld god.
The bowl-shaped helmet from tomb 85 at Verucchio-La Rocca causes interpreta-
tive problems. There is no doubt that the piece’s provenance is the Dolenjsko group,57
but it was found together with typical regional rich male attire, a pair of horse bits
as a pars pro toto fitting for a chariot, a plentitude of local ceramic vessels, and even
wooden furniture very similar to that of the Tomba del Trono (see chapter 76 von Eles),
but strangely enough without real weapons.58 In terms of who was buried in tomb
85, tentatively one could think about a political hostage, an obses, which is what the
Romans would have called such a person somewhat later.59
Pairs of spearheads in southeastern Hallstatt culture have often been erroneously
seen as a reflex to the armament of Greek hoplites. But the combat technique of the
phalanx was strictly combined with the double handled shields (see chapter 11 Egg).
Marco Pacciarelli points out that pairs of spearheads first appeared on the Apennine
peninsula in Early Iron Age (second half of the tenth century) Calabria long before the
Greek influence in southern Italy.60 In Etruria multiple spearheads turn up as grave
furniture in the second half of the eighth century.61 In Slovenia, on the contrary, pairs
of spears regularly appear from the second half of the seventh century onwards.62
Since in both regions the same form of oval shield with central handle (scutum)
was in use,63 and axes were the most common weapon for close combat, there are
certain analogies in warfare to discern. So it is no wonder that Italic helmets with
brims became adopted by elite southeastern warriors. First there appeared types from
Picenum, and later in the sixth century appeared the Etruscan varieties of helmets of
the Negau-type.64
5.3 Gift exchange in Etruscan courts
The bronze cup found in grave M 3 in the necropolis at Tarquinia-Arcatelle derives

from Central European craftsmanship, like the antenne sword. Cristiano Iaia focuses
56 Guštin 1979, 23–5; Iaia 2005, 87–8, nos. 33–4.

57 Škoberne 1999, 68–99.
58 Gentili 2003, pl. 129–41.
59 Elbern 1990; Torelli 1997, 53–5.
60 Pacciarelli 1999, 94–5; compare also pairs of miniature spears in Latium, Santa Palomba, grave 1:
De Santis 2011, 41–4.
61 Drago Troccoli 2005, 111.
62 Teržan 1985; cf. the exception in Transdanubia: Vékony Vadász 1997.
63 Eichberg 1987, 49–50.
64 Egg 1986a, 51–61.

1596 Gerhard Tomedi
on a small tripod bearing little vessels on its rim—a local product whose archetypes as
ceramic models can be traced to the eleventh century65 and confirms the existence of
regional variations on the elaborated banquet. The pompous crested bronze helmet,
the spearhead with faceted tube as well as the serpentine fibula covered with gold
foil demonstrate furthermore the high ranking status of the buried warrior as well his
social affiliation.
Although Etruscan workshops had revealed a first heyday during the eighth
century, eastern Alpine bronze vessels appeared in outstanding graves.66 Giovannan-
gelo Camporeale was probably exaggerating when he tried to ascribe a bronze basin
with horizontal handles bearing bull-head protomes and lotus-attachments in cypro-
levantine tradition to a “maestro hallstattiano” comparing the decorative band in the
line of staff with a meander in form of swastikas.67 Since the decorative band never
appeared in the east-alpine region but on ceramic vessels in Bologna,68 the personi-
fication of a ‘proto-’ Helico, the famous Helvetic smith in Rome who was recorded by
Pliny (Plin. HN 12.2.5), does not seem very reliable.
The two bronze buckets from the circoli “delle Sfingi” and “delle Pellicce” in Ve-
tulonia doubtless originate from eastern Alpine workshops (Fig. 82.4).69 Alberto Dei
interpreted some cases of a completely harnessed horse—in the form of harnesses in
Pontic-Danubian style found in Etruscan graves—as the presents of hostesses.70
Personal contacts between the elite of both regions can be pointed out. Georg
Kossack reflected on expeditions leaded by military attachments.71 Reciprocity on
home base might be the fitting model of trade after Colin Renfrew.72
But the buckets were just part of a multitude of exotic goods of attraction.73
One must not forget the bronzes from Sardinia, or later on, ceramic vessels from
Greece—mainly drinking cups (see chapter 44 Iaia). Regrettably, classical archae-
ologists tend to overestimate the role of Greek finds from abroad. Thus, Greek
imported pottery is often seen as an influence in drinking costumes of the local
elites. Instead of krateres, lebetes and stamnoi, the Etruscans preferred biconical
amphorae as mixing vessels complete with ladle-cups with rounded bottoms and
cups made entirely of bronze to sophisticated drinking sets.74 These components
also differed considerably from those used by high-ranking persons in the Venetic
65 Iaia 2006.
66 Giuliani Pomes 1954.
67 Camporeale 1986.
68 E.g. Müller-Karpe 1959, pl. 60 P; Panichelli 1990, pl. 17, 394; Kossack 1993.
69 Tomedi 2002, 207–11.
70 Dei 1996.
71 Kossack 1982; Kromer 1986.
72 Renfrew 1975.
73 Jettmar 1973.
74 Iaia 2005, 207–19.

Fig. 82.4: The distribution of bronze buckets of the type Merhart B2b
and in the eastern Alpine area, which can be traced even to the twelfth century.75
Situlae with ladles, dippers, strainer-cups and drinking cups formed the sets used
by the elites for the banquet.
5.4 Out of Etruria
Particular eighth- and seventh-century graves in southern Etruria were furnished with
equipment for upscale banquets. Thin iron spits with rolled-up ends are distinctively
75 Jacob 1995, pl. 94 B.

1598 Gerhard Tomedi
Fig. 82.5: A bronze situla of the Kurd-type with horse attachments

from Tumulus 48 in Frög, Carinthia (after Tomedi 2002)
Etruscan. Additionally, firedogs, bronze plates, tripods and respectively so-called

horse-tripods complete the ceremonial furnishings. A few graves in the western Hall-
statt culture contained such spits or their local imitations (see chapter 83 Baitinger).
A kreagra (meat-fork) from the warrior’s grave of Gornja Radgona (Štajerska, Slove-
nia) is an Etruscan import,76 as are the tripods from Este and Novo mesto (Dolenjsko,
Slovenia).77 As a whole, however, Etruscan imports into the Venetic and southeastern
Hallstatt cultures were scarce.78
On the other hand, the figurative design of the Etruscan horse-tripods influenced
the bronze bowl supported by two human legs from Črnolica at the Rifnik (Štajerska,
76 Egg 1986b, 264–76.

77 Kromer 1986, fig. 26.
78 Girardi-Jurkić 1986.

Fig. 82.6: The ritual bronze chariot from Strettweg, Styria (after Egg 1996a)
Slovenia).79 The same is true for the bronze situla from Frög/Breg (Carinthia, Austria)
bearing horse figurines on the handles (Fig. 82.5); they find their best parallels in
Etruscan art.80
Both graves, in addition to the extremely rich burial from Strettweg (upper Styria,
Austria; Fig. 82.6), with its famous ritual model chariot, belong to the seventh century.
Markus Egg emphasizes that the chariot’s complex design can hardly be suggested
without Etruscan paragons, even though exact parallels cannot be traced.81
The style and tenor of the Situla Art were inspired by Etruscan orientalizing art,
even though skilled local artisans created some scenic subjects independently.82 Gio-
79 Gabrovec 1992, fig. 3; Nachbaur 2011.

80 Tomedi 2002, 211–14; cf. also Siegfried Weiss 1979.
81 Egg 1996a, 61.
82 Lucke 1962; Eibner 1981; Huth 2003, 160–269; Turk 2005.

1600 Gerhard Tomedi
vanni Colonna believes that an Etruscan sheet bronze specialist designed one of the
oldest situlae, the famous specimen from Este-Benvenuti.83 Certainly, impacts on
ideals count in a cultural historic sight much more than foreign goods. In fact, the
number of Etruscan commodities in the south and southeast Alpine area is almost
negligible, and imported goods of attraction are quite scarce.84
A strong obligation to the picture of an Etruscan king arises vividly from the
bronze fans found in Histria85 and in the depiction of noblemen with fans at the situla
in Providence (Rhode Island).86 In the daily life of the elite Etruscan style appealed
more and more to new fashions of dress, proven by the change in the design of fibulae
from the seventh century onward.87 Therefore it is no wonder that Etruscans founded
an emporion at Forcello di Bagnolo San Vito,88 north of the Po River, at the Mincio
River (see chapter 78 de Marinis).
The great number of amphorae found there led Raffaele de Marinis to the plausi-
ble opinion that wine was decanted here into wineskins for further transport across
the Alps. Of course, this is an uncertain field regarding the trade with goods that are
scarcely traceable in the archaeological record, like salt, furs, woven fabrics and all
kinds of edible goods. Commodities must have played an important role in trade, as
mentioned by ancient historians regarding later contexts (e.g. Hdt. 7.147.2; Strabo 4.
6.8; 17.1.33). Therefore the trade with Baltic or South Scandinavian amber might only
give a glimpse of the trade’s complexity.89
There are also difficulties showing the transfer of nomoi in the sense of customs
and conventions. Etruscan ladies held a high social status within their societies,
which is shown by the genealogic system that also incorporated the woman’s lin-
eage.90 The women of the Kalenderberg-Culture in the eastern foothills of the Alps
also had a high social status.91 It might not be a mere coincidence that with the begin-
ning of a new dress code during the first half of the seventh century in the southeast-
ern Alpine area—which included Italic fibulae—ostentatiously rich furnished female
burials became increasingly common.92 Writing became widespread due to the Etrus-
can interactions with the Veneti and even the Raetic people in the Alpine region.93
83 Colonna 1980; not convincing on Greek direct archetypes: Boardman 1971.

84 Vitri 1980; Gabrovec 1992; Egg 1996a, 264–76; Capuis 2001; Teržan 2010, 294–309.
85 Mihovilić 1980; Minto 1943, 149–151; Guldager Bilde 1994.
86 Lucke 1962, pl. 8.
87 Chieco Bianchi et al. 1976; Teržan 1995, 222; Tomedi 2002, 177–88.
88 See de Marinis and Rapi 2005.
89 Naso 2013.
90 Torelli 1981, p. 71–6; Amann 2000.
91 Teržan 1986.
92 Tomedi 2002, 320–3.
93 See de Simone and Marchesini 2013.

In conclusion, we can emphasize that the cultures in the south and southeast
Alpine areas had formed autonomous societies on a high technologic level adapted
the regional conditions and climatic factors. There was no need to be on the drip of
Mediterranean civilizations to improve to a better mastering of the daily life. But an
Etruscan fascination within some local elites seems definitely obvious.
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—. 2008. “Urbs ipsa moenia sunt (Isid. XV 2, 1). Ideologia e poliorcetica nelle fortificazioni etrusche
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Vandkilde, H., 2007. Culture and Change in central European Prehistory, 6th to 1st millennium BC.
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Vékony Vadász, É. 1997. “Das Hügelgrab von Kismezö bei dem Ságberg.” Zalai Múzeum 8: 27–38.
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Holger Baitinger
83 Transalpine Regions
Abstract: Central Italic–Etruscan imports reached the area north of the Alps occasionally beginning
in the ninth/eighth century BCE (Ha B 3/Ha C), and increasingly in the Late Hallstatt and Early La
Tène periods (Ha D/Lt A). These foreign items played an important role for the native elites who made
their name through possession of such prestige objects and created a network of relationships and
dependencies through their exchange.
A large number of Etruscan imports into Central Europe are eating and drinking utensils, and so
are connected with the ceremonial symposium of the elites. The spectrum of imported utensils was
limited, to be sure, and did not embrace the entire bandwidth of what would be needed for a sympo-
sium in the Etruscan-Greek sphere. Containers for liquids and drinking vessels predominate such as
beaked flagons (Ger. Schnabelkannen), which toward the end of the Late Hallstatt and Early La Tène
periods (fifth century) become a “type fossil” of Etruscan imports north of the Alps. The increasing
inrush of Mediterranean goods was accompanied by an increasing influence on the native Celtic craft
industry, which is manifested in the emergence of the Celtic La Tène style, the development of large
stone sculpture, and the imitation of Etruscan bronze vessels. How deep these influences reached is
shown by the appearance of the potter’s wheel, the adoption of Etruscan fashions, the influx of dried
fruits from the Mediterranean area, and the use of a precision balance in the settlement of Hochdorf in
Baden-Württemberg. Other aspects, though, are harder to assess, because information on such things
as the cut and decoration of clothing is missing from the archaeological record.
From the beginning, Trans-Alpine communication routes seem to have had special significance
for the influx of Etruscan imports. On one side they passed through the Golasecca culture in the
Western Padan Plain, on the other across the eastern Alps and through Bohemia and Moravia as far as
Silesia. Beginning in the second half of the sixth century, the rise of the Greek colony of Massalia/Mar-
seille gained significance for the opening of the route via the Rhône, Saône, and Doubs and brought
imported Mediterranean goods to eastern France and southwestern Germany. Contacts reached their
apex in the Late Hallstatt and Early La Tène periods, when Etruscan and Greek imports belonged
among the indispensible components of the princely graves of the native elites. With the cessation of
the custom of princely graves in the fourth century, the number of Etruscan objects in Central Europe
falls off sharply.
Keywords: Etruscan imports, Central Europe, Hallstatt and La Tène periods, princely graves, princely
sites
Introduction
Etruscan and Greek objects that have been found north of the Alps, far from their
places of origin, already piqued the interest of archaeological research in the second
half of the nineteenth century. That is the first time bronze utensils in a Mediter-
ranean style known as altitalisch were found in Central Europe. The Italic–Central
European connections thus uncovered were significant not only because before the
development of scientific dating methods (such as dendrochronology) the Mediter-
ranean goods constituted the sole reliable benchmarks for the absolute chronology
1608 Holger Baitinger
of the Late Bronze and Iron Age in Central Europe,1 but also because they testify to
contacts between the Iron Age elites of Central Europe and the advanced civilizations
of the Mediterranean area, indeed centuries before the invasion of Celtic groups into
northern and central Italy in the fourth century BCE.
The number of Greek and Etruscan finds north of the Alps has grown consider-
ably since then, and the discussion of their points of origin, dating, and significance
within the native cultural structure remains in flux,2 so that in this chapter consid-
eration is necessarily limited to the most important groups of objects.3 The Alpine
area is not included, where northern Italic fibulae from the end of the Urnfield period
are well known from Swiss lake dwellings;4 the many Etruscan objects from western
France are also brushed entirely aside, because the circumstances of their discovery
often appear quite doubtful.5
The interaction between the Mediterranean and the Early Iron Age culture groups
north of the Alps focused above all on splendidly equipped tombs under large tumuli,
the “princely graves” or Prunkgräber of the Late Hallstatt/Early La Tène period.6 First
place belongs to these prominent burials in which Mediterranean imports and other
prominent items of artistic craft production are accumulated, whereas settlements
and storage or offering finds retreat as types of sources. The exotic valuables in the
princely graves served for the self-presentation of an aristocratic class that legiti-
mated itself through the possession of these “keimelia” and that at the same time
sought to create an effective network of relationships among themselves through their
exchange.7 How far the contacts in the Mediterranean area contributed to the devel-
opment of these groups of persons, or whether their rise constituted the conditions for
closer relationships of Mediterranean cultures with those north of the Alps, remains a
disputed question, and neither of the alternatives can be definitively chosen.
This chapter covers the time from the end of the Urnfield period—the ninth
century (Ha B 3)—to the Early La Tène period, approximately between 450 and
280 BCE (Lt A/B); the focus lies on the Late Hallstatt and Early La Tène periods (Ha D/
Lt A), the sixth and fifth centuries. The briefer consideration here of the earliest, still
scattered imports is justified by the existence of modern summaries.8 In any case, pur-
1 Dehn and Frey 1962; Guggisberg 2008.

2 Summaries in Frey 1998, 1999.
3 In order not to overburden the text, for the most part only recent literature is cited that provides
access to the topic.
4 Betzler 1974.
5 A survey of Etruscan and Italic finds in France is provided by R. Adam, Bonnamour, et al. 1987;
R. Adam, Philippe and Waiblinger 1989; Chateigner, Josset and Piel 1990; R. Adam and Fontaine 1992;
see also A.-M. Adam 1992.
6 Kossack 1974.
7 F. Fischer 1973.
8 von Hase 1989a; 1992; 2005.

83 Transalpine Regions 1609
poseful, northward-directed Etruscan trade activities can hardly be considered before

the urbanization processes that took place in Central Italy from the second half of the
eighth century, and the rise of the Etruscan cities must be understood as important
prerequisites for intensified northern contacts from the seventh century.
The oldest Etruscan imports north of the Alps precede those from Greece (or
Western Greece) temporally, since the latter only reached Central Europe in the second
half of the sixth century in considerable number, when the Phocaean colony of Mas-
salia/Marseille had risen to be the dominant economic power in the western Mediter-
ranean.9 Its position near the mouth of the Rhône opened one of the most important
trade routes to Central Europe, via the Rhône, Saône, and Doubs on the upper Rhine
or via the Seine to the Atlantic coast and on to the tin mines of Cornwall. Above all in
the second half of the sixth and early fifth centuries, Mediterranean goods would have
reached central France along this route, alongside Attic vases and valuables like the
monumental krater of Vix10 and perhaps the bronze cauldron from Hochdorf.11
The question of whether an object was manufactured in Etruria or is an imitation
created elsewhere cannot always be clearly answered. The ability to create high-qual-
ity metalwork was also possessed by craftsmen in the Po region, the southeast Alpine
area, and the Carpathian basin. Without detailed investigations—including manufac-
turing techniques and metallurgical analyses—uncertainties remain in determining
their origin. An argument based solely on formal stylistic observations and distribu-
tion maps cannot resolve the doubt.
A considerable portion of the Etruscan finds north of the Alps consists of bronze
eating and drinking utensils, which were used in ceremonial banquets of the native
elites. They imitated the symposia of the Mediterranean world, but did not exactly
copy them. The temporal focus of the imports lies in the Late Hallstatt and Early La
Tène periods; their distribution agrees with that of the princely graves. While the
earlier princely graves of the northwest Alpine Late Hallstatt region (Ha D) are found
primarily in southwestern Germany, eastern France, and Switzerland, those of the
Early La Tène period are in a more northerly zone between the Champagne to the west
and Bohemia to the east, but especially between the Saar and the Middle Rhine. This
fact must be kept in mind in the inspection and interpretation of distribution maps
of Etruscan objects in Central Europe. Additionally, it must be kept in mind that only
a part of the imports has found its way into the stream of transmission and that the
“transfer of ideas” is difficult to identify from archaeological sources.
9 Pape 2000; 2004.

10 Rolley 2003.
11 Bieg 2002.

1 The oldest central Italic imports north of the Alps:

Late Urnfield and Early Hallstatt periods
(Ha B 3/Ha C = ca. ninth century – 625 BCE)
Relations between ancient Italy and Central Europe go back to the Late Urnfield
period, but before the end of the seventh century—the beginning of the Ha D phase—
remained isolated.12 It appears questionable whether the oldest Etruscan objects in
the north actually arrived there directly, or via a chain of exchanges. Common roots
of the Late Bronze / Early Iron Age metalwork of Italy and Central Europe, which
are to be sought in southeastern Europe, also play an important role in this context.
Religious symbols like the so-called Vogel-Sonnen-Barke occur both in the Villanova
culture and in the Urnfield period of Central and Eastern Europe, and there are also
correspondences in the realm of technical skills (e.g. the point-boss decoration on
bronze vessels).13
One of the oldest Central Italic–Etruscan imports in the area north of the Alps
is the bronze amphora from Olsberg-Gevelinghausen (Hochsauerlandkreis, North
Rhine–Westphalia), which belongs to the Gevelinghausen-Vejo-Seddin group defined
by Albrecht Jockenhövel (Figs. 44.1 and 44.2).14 The biconical vessel was preserved
in a cremation burial of the Late Urnfield period and finds its best parallel in Grave
AA 1 of the Villanovan necropolis of Veii–Quattro Fontanili, which is why it was seen
as an import from central Italy,15 as was another amphora that came to light in 1896
in Przesławice (Ger. Prenzlawitz) near Grudziądz (Graudenz, Silesia) in a deposit of
the Montelius V period.16 The amphora from Przesławice is one of the northernmost
pieces of evidence for a contact zone that extended from Italy to the eastern Alps
and Bohemia/Moravia as far as Silesia and also must be considered along with other
finds (e.g. fibulae). All in all, the Etruscan provenience of the amphora from Geve-
linghausen must remain uncertain, as already indicated by Jockenhövel in the origi-
nal publication and more recently by Cristiano Iaia.17 Jockenhövel connected it with
a northern Alpine metal workshop, while Iaia concluded that it had come from the
area of the Este culture or the Caput Adriae. This makes it clear how tricky the ques-
tion of origin is to answer, especially if only a limited number of comparable vessels
12 von Hase 1989a, 1992.

13 von Merhart 1952; Kossack 1954.
14 Jockenhövel 1974; Jacob 1995, 112–13 no. 357, pls. 62–63.
15 von Hase 1989a, 1040; 1992, 243–44.
16 Gedl 2001, 35 no. 40, pl. 14.
17 Jockenhövel 1974, esp. 35; Iaia 2005, 163–69. Jacob 1995, 112 too stresses the differences between
the amphorae from Veii and Gevelinghausen, which speak for an origin in different workshops.

Fig. 83.1 a–c: Bronze vessels from burial mound 1 Grave 12 of the Eichlehen group in the Frankfurt
City Forest: a. situla; b. ribbed-bowl; c. basins (after U. Fischer 1979, pls. 8–10)
are available. Furthermore, scattered Villanova razors18 and fibulae19 are known from
Late Urnfield contexts north of the Alps.
In the Early Hallstatt period (Ha C), Central Europe yields a series of remarkable
Etruscan finds.20 A rich grave in the Frankfurt City Forest (Frankfurt am Main, Hesse)
included, among other things, a bronze situla with crescent-shaped handle attach-
ments, a bronze ribbed bowl, and two simple bronze basins (Fig. 83.1).21 The Frankfurt
grave not only is the richest from the Early Hallstatt period in the Rhein-Main area,
but with its four bronze vessels, two of which (at least) are from Etruria, it counts
among the richest burials of this period from Central Europe. If we consider the routes
18 von Hase 1992, 245–47.

19 von Hase 1992, 250–53.
20 von Hase 1989a, 1992; Kimmig 1992.
21 U. Fischer 1979; Willms 2002.

by which the Etruscan vessels crossed the Alps, we should bear in mind that parts
of the Frankfurt inventory point to eastern Central Europe, such as the yoke that has
counterparts in the central Bohemian Bylany culture and the iron cheek-piece of Kos-
sack’s Type Ic.
The situla with crescent-shaped handle attachments is the only large vessel in the
grave and replaced as beverage container the otherwise normal conical-necked clay
vessels.22 Similar bronze buckets are known from graves of the Orientalizing period
in central and northern Italy, while north of the Alps only one example from Elsdorf-
Oberembt (Erftkreis, North Rhine–Westphalia) can be set alongside the Frankfurt
situla.23
Inside the bucket was a bronze bowl with radial ribs that must have been used as
a ladle.24 The excavator’s opinion that the bowl (phiale) was subsequently changed
into a sieve is rather improbable.25 North of the Alps, only five ribbed bowls have
been found so far (Fig. 83.2), scattered between Burgundy in the west and Hungary
in the east (Frankfurt City Forest, Appenwihr,26 Poiseul-la-Ville,27 Hallstatt,28 Sarkad/
Hungary29). Good parallels are found in both older and younger circle graves (It.
circoli) in Vetulonia, which is also suspected of being the origin of the bowls.30 The
burials from the Frankfurt City Forest and Poiseul-la-Ville (département Côte-d’Or)
date to the early phase of the Early Hallstatt period (Ha C 1, the second half of the
eighth or first quarter of the seventh century). Ribbed bowls and situlae with crescent-
shaped handle attachments are found not only in Etruria, but also in the Po Plain, so
that an import from northern Italy may be suggested.31
Among the undecorated bronze basins,32 at least the larger one must be of Italic
provenience.33 The basins were found together with two clay bowls in the northwest
corner of the burial chamber, not far from the animal bones and an iron butcher knife;
this indicates that they were components of the banqueting service. Basins with flat
rims like the larger of the two Frankfurt examples appear south of the Alps in consid-
22 U. Fischer 1979, 71–72, 127–28, pls. 8, 9.1; Jacob 1995, 104 no. 313, pl. 52.
23 Jacob 1995, 104 no. 314, pl. 53. This piece, however, lacks the straps with transverse ribs that are
riveted to the base of the example from Frankfurt.
24 U. Fischer 1979, 72, 128–29, pl. 9.2; Jacob 1995, 66 no. 149, pl. 19.
25 U. Fischer 1979, 72, 128, pl. 21; Willms 2002, 83. In fact the irregular holes that were observed on
the upper end of the ribs in all probability are due to continuing corrosion in these spots that are
particularly delicate due to their thinness.
26 Jehl and Bonnet 1957; A.-M. Adam 1997.
27 Chaume and Feugère 1990, 13–17, 43–46.
28 Prüssing 1991, 36–37 no. 47–48, pl. 7.
29 Willms 2002, 81 fig.
30 Howes Smith 1984; Feugère 1992; A.-M. Adam 1997, 7–9, fig. 1; Sciacca 2005, esp. 378–79.
31 Pare 1989, 441.
32 U. Fischer 1979, 72, 129–30, pl. 10.1–2; Jacob 1995, 79 nos. 219–20, pl. 30.
33 U. Fischer 1979, 129; see also Krausse 1996, 280; Willms 2002, 84.

Fig. 83.2: Distribution of ribbed bowls (after A.-M. Adam 1997, 8, pl. 1)

Fig. 83.3: Pyxis from burial mound I in the

“Kastenwald” of Appenwihr (département
Haut-Rhin) (after A.-M. Adam 1997, 14, fig. 3)
erably smaller numbers than basins with embossed rims (Ger. Perlrandbecken), a type
that appears in southern Germany, for example in Pürgen (Kr. Landsberg am Lech,
Bavaria).34 Dirk Krausse chose this vessel as the eponym for his Pürgen variant of
the Osovo-Pürgen type, which dates to the end of the sixth and beginning of the fifth
century, thus already in the Late Hallstatt period.35 An atypical bowl with a double
row of bosses from burial mound IX of Chavéria (département Jura) went together
with a Late Urnfield–period sword of the Auvernier type, but was probably buried
34 Jacob 1995, 78 no. 218, pl. 30.

35 Krausse 1996, 255–60.

only at the beginning of Ha C.36 According to Krausse, it is not an import, but a native
imitation of an Italic model.37
One of the aforementioned ribbed bowls from burial mound I in the “Kastenwald”
of Appenwihr (département Haut-Rhin) went together with a pyxis of Etruscan origin
(Fig. 83.3). This grave also contained other bronze vessels such as a footed bowl, a
ladle, and a sieve.38 In the case of the pyxis as well, it is not entirely uncontroversial
whether it is an Etruscan original or an imitation. It dates to the mid seventh century,
with the decoration on the lid comparable with works from the Este culture, the form
comparable with a “censer” from Vetulonia. Friedrich-Wilhelm von Hase saw it as an
import from Tyrrhenian Central Italy.39 Recently Anne-Marie Adam has advocated a
dating to the first half or middle of the seventh century.40
Iron spits and fire dogs on which meat was roasted over an open fire are con-
nected with the preparation and consumption of meals. Such equipment is known
from occasional Early Hallstatt-period graves north of the Alps (Beilngries [Lkr. Eich-
stätt, Bavaria] “Im Ried-West” Grave 74,41 Großeibstadt [Lkr. Rhön-Grabfeld, Bavaria]
Necropolis II Grave 14/1981).42 This is unimaginable without influence from the Etrus-
can–central Italic area, even if it is merely a matter of local imitations.43 The lancet-
shaped grip of the Beilngries spits (Fig. 83.4) corresponds to Kohler’s type IV and is
paralleled in rich seventh-century tombs in the Etruscan world (Quinto Fiorentino,
Cerveteri, Pontecagnano).44 The number of spits north of the Alps remains limited
in Late Hallstatt and Early La Tène–period contexts, but they are now also found in
fortified hilltop settlements like that of the Heuneburg on the upper Danube (Kr. Sig-
maringen, Baden-Württemberg)45 and the Alter Gleisberg in Graitschen bei Bürgel
(Saale-Holzland-Kreis, Thuringia).46 They attest to the acceptance of Mediterranean
dining practices. Roasting meat over an open fire was an important component of the
sacrificial meal in Greek sanctuaries,47 so that the spits and firedogs are doubtless
religiously charged objects.
Villanovan fibulae frequently appear north of the Alps in Early Hallstatt contexts,
but this includes quite a few early finds, the circumstances of whose discovery remain
36 Vuaillat 1977, 64–65, fig. 34.1.

37 Krausse 1996, 278–87, esp. 281–82 (bronze bowl of the Chavéria-Corminboeuf group).
38 Jehl and Bonnet 1957, 1968; A.-M. Adam 1997.
39 von Hase 1989a, 1050, 1992, 257–58, 1998, 307.
40 A.-M. Adam 1997, 9.
41 Torbrügge 1965, 85, pls. 27.8–14, 28.1–4, 1979, 122–24.
42 Wamser 1981, 246; Schätze aus Bayerns Erde 1983, 20 no. 14.11–13.
43 On spits and fire dogs in Italy, see summaries in Stary 1979; Kohler 2000.
44 Kohler 2000.
45 Sievers 1984, 67, 212–13 nos. 1977–87, pl. 186.
46 Simon 1999, 90–91, fig. 23.3; Ettel 2005, 134–36, fig. 13.
47 Baitinger and Völling 2007, 66–87, 87–90.

Fig. 83.4: Roasting spits and firedogs from Beilngries “Im Ried-West”
Grave 74 (after Torbrügge 1965, pl. 28)
doubtful.48 Nonetheless it is striking that the future core area of the northwest Alpine
Late Hallstatt region in southern Germany and eastern France remains almost entirely
devoid of finds. According to Peter Ettel, the “topographic siting on important trade
routes appears to be typical of most of the Italic fibulae of the eighth and seventh
48 Ettel 2005, 119–26, fig. 3.

Fig. 83.5: Reconstruction of a three-legged table in the Sammlung

Nassauischer Altertümer in Wiesbaden (after zu Erbach-Schönberg
1994, 43, fig. 3)
centuries north of the Alps”.49 Modern excavations have yielded, for example, an
Italic dragon fibula, which was found in 1982 in Necropolis II of Großeibstadt (Land-
kreis Rhön-Grabfeld, Bavaria).50 This fibula probably reached the Grabfeldgau via the
eastern Alps and Bohemia/Moravia; its chamber tombs resemble those of the central
Bohemian Bylany culture.
Some exotic Etruscan imports north of the Alps are three bronze table legs
with an iron and clay core (now in the Wiesbaden museum). They are very similar
to wooden tables from Verucchio (province of Rimini) (Fig. 83.5).51 Supposedly they
were found in the spring of 1851 near Saarbrücken, perhaps in a burial mound. That
there are three supports this information, as they probably come from a complete
piece of furniture whose top is now unfortunately missing. In this case as well, the
circumstances of their discovery appear very doubtful. Indeed, Mediterranean fur-
niture is known from Late Hallstatt graves of Central Europe, such as wooden klinai
with ivory and amber trim52 and the bronze sofa from Eberdingen-Hochdorf (Kr. Lud-
49 Ettel 2005, 124.

50 Schifferdecker and Wamser 1983, 60, fig. 41.
51 zu Erbach-Schönberg 1993, 1994; Nachbaur 2011, 203–4, fig. 7.6.
52 J. Fischer 1990; Naso 2007.

wigsburg, Baden-Württemberg), which ultimately goes back to Etruscan models.53 It

thus appears quite likely that the table legs do indeed come from a rich grave in the
Saarland.
2 Late Hallstatt period (Ha D = ca. 625–450 BCE)

The second half of the seventh and first half of the sixth century saw in the western
and central Mediterranean a perceptible expansion of Etruscan overseas trade, which
for example can be understood through the distribution of bucchero (Fig. 49.2).54
The area north of the Alps did not remain untouched by these circumstances, and a
strengthened influx of Etruscan objects can now be verified there. While in the Late
Urnfield and Early Hallstatt periods there were still mainly isolated vessels, which
were hardly ever part of an ensemble, this changed in Ha D, especially with the Ha D 2
phase in the mid sixth century. This is also attributed to the fact that with the princely
graves, the type of source comes on the scene for which we can thank most of the
Etruscan finds from Central Europe. Commonly, these rich burials lie in close proxim-
ity to one of those fortified hilltop settlements that by analogy to the “princely graves”
are called “princely sites” (Ger. Fürstensitze).55 Finally the idea of constructing forti-
fied central places can be attributed to Etruscan influence, and the establishment
of the custom of princely graves in Central Europe can hardly be explained without
knowledge of rich burials of the Orientalizing period in central Italy.
As in the Early Hallstatt period, bronze vessels still come to the fore, whereas
central Italic pottery (bucchero, Etrusco-Corinthian ware) north of the Alps is
extremely rare and, quantitatively, rank behind Attic ware.56 A fragment of a bucchero
pesante vessel decorated with a relief representing a winged wildcat—apparently the
decorative panel of an incense burner from the second half of the sixth century typical
of Chiusi—is said to have come from Alter Gleisberg, a fortified hilltop settlement not
far from Jena in Thuringia.57 A complete bucchero kantharos of Rasmussen’s Type 3e,
which is widespread in the western Mediterranean area, was found near Koscielec
(Kuyavy, Poland), but unfortunately it was lost in World War II.58 In southern France
bucchero is distributed around the Gulf of Lion between Ampurias/Emporion and
53 Frey 1989; Hoppe 2012.

54 von Hase 1989b; Gras 1985; Naso 2009.
55 See Krausse 2008, 2010.
56 von Hase 1989b, esp. 329, fig. 1; Simon 1999, 78–87, fig. 17. For Greek pottery north of the Alps: Pape
2000; 2004; Hansen and Böhr 2011, 218–19, fig. 6; Hansen 2012.
57 Simon 1999; Ettel 2005, 133–34, fig. 11.
58 Fogel and Makiewicz 1987–88.

Marseille/Massalia, but like other Etruscan imports (e.g. transport amphorae) this
pottery is not found inland.
Unlike bucchero, Attic black- and red-figure pottery is found everywhere, from the
Ha D 2 phase on in Central European burials, but more commonly in settlements. The
Attic sherds from the princely site on the Heuneburg belong to the decades between
540 and 480, especially the end of the sixth century.59 It is hardly accidental that
nothing appears here but components of drinking equipment (kraters, jugs, bowls,
and beakers), whereas vessels for oils or ointments such as aryballoi, alabastra, or
exaleiptra are absent. Thus the ceramic items too—like those of bronze—were used
in banquets as festival equipment, and once in a while they were repaired when they
broke (Kleinaspergle, Baden-Württemberg).60
During the Late Hallstatt period, not only did the number of Mediterranean
objects north of the Alps increase, but cultural influences were now clearly evident.
Thus from the beginning of Ha D, clothing north of the Alps was fastened Italic-style
with a fibula, while the dress pin which stands in a Bronze Age tradition quickly lost
its significance; the fibula was accepted during the sixth century as far as the region
of the Central German highlands.61 While the earliest fibulae were still imported, they
soon began to be replaced by native pieces and forms. To what extent the new fashion
with fibulae also brought about alterations in the cut and decoration of clothing is
hard to determine because of the perishability of the material. The princely grave at
Hochdorf yielded a red cloth-like textile, whose dye must have come from the scale
insect Kermes vermilio native to the Mediterranean, and also the motifs of the textiles
proven here show southern influence.62 If the fibulae during the Late Hallstatt period
become more and more delicate, this indicates the wearing of more delicate textiles
and clothing. The golden sheets attached to the shoes from Hochdorf attest to the
adoption of the Etruscan fashion of wearing pointed shoes.63 The custom of decking
out burial chambers with drapes, as at Hochdorf, was possibly also influenced by the
furnishing of Etruscan chamber tombs.
Around 600, a new fortification wall was erected on the Heuneburg on the upper
Danube, which was built using the Mediterranean technique from mud bricks on a
base of Jura limestone.64 Such construction seems unimaginable without the pres-
ence of a southern architect. The mud brick wall of the Heuneburg was in no way
so unsuited to the Central European climate as is stated from time to time, since it
existed longer than its successors, which were constructed in the traditional way as
59 Böhr and Shefton 2000.

60 Schaaff 1988, 191–95, pls. 25–34.
61 Ettel 1995, 2005, esp. 126–31, fig. 6.
62 Banck-Burgess 1999, esp. 85–89. See chapter 29 Gleba.
63 Hansen 2010, 42–46, 111–15.
64 Gersbach 1995, 10–94.

wood-stone-earth-walls. A protective plaster and the stone base, which prevented

moisture from rising into the core, not only guaranteed it a long lifespan, but also at
the same time made the wall into an imposing and prestigious edifice, whose effect on
the contemporaries could not have been unsuccessful. Where the impulse came from
to build such a fortification remains unclear, not least because Archaic period mud
brick walls are fairly rare in the Mediterranean area (e.g. Siris/Policoro in Lucania,
Himera in Sicily, Rusellae/Roselle in Etruria). In particular, the impressively thick and
close-together rectangular towers of the main approach side find no contemporary
parallels south of the Alps.65 Even though no clear proof can be produced, the mud
brick wall of the Heuneburg is most likely connected at the earliest with influences
from the Italic-Etruscan area, though Greek imports north of the Alps appear in con-
siderable number only after the mid sixth century.
The Heuneburg’s mud brick wall remains isolated and had no influence on Iron
Age fortification types in Central Europe. This is not the case for artistic crafts, where
during the Late Hallstatt period a transfer of ideas from the south took place. Toward
the end of the sixth century, the first life size, three-dimensional human sculptures in
stone appear north of the Alps.66 The oldest representative of this group, the warrior
of Hirschlanden (Kr. Ludwigsburg, Baden-Württemberg), was found at the foot of a
burial mound not far from the Hohenasperg near Stuttgart.67 With his thick, broad
collar—thought to be made of gold—and conical headgear, he recalls the equipment
of contemporary princely graves like Eberdingen-Hochdorf.68 The gesture of the fore-
arms on the body with extended thumbs is found in the same attitude in central Italic
statues like that of Casale Marittimo (province of Pisa) from the seventh century and
Capestrano (province of L’Aquila) from the sixth century.69 About a century later—
already in the Early La Tène period (Lt A)—there appear the four warrior statues from
Glauberg (Wetteraukreis, Hesse).70 They originally stood beside a large burial mound
that covered two princely graves of the LT A period.71 One of these statues has sur-
vived the millennia almost undamaged, because it was (ritually?) deposited in a ditch,
whereas three others were shattered in antiquity and remain only in pieces. The simi-
larities are striking between the equipment of the princely Grave 1 and the features
of the statue(s), which, except for the Mediterranean composite cuirass, all together
were found realiter in the grave. In their frontality and their flat, shelflike form, from
which spatial depth appears to be absent, these statues are not dissimilar to the
earliest Aegean stone portraits, such as the Nikandre of Delos from the mid seventh
65 Most recently Hailer 2010; Burkhardt 2010.

66 Kimmig 1987; Frey 2000; 2002.
67 von Hase 2003 (with earlier literature).
68 Biel 1985; Der Keltenfürst von Hochdorf 1985.
69 Frey 2002, 214–15, figs. 202–3.
70 Bosinski and Herrmann 1998–99; Frey 2000, 2002; F.-R. Herrmann 2002.
71 Baitinger and Pinsker 2002.

century, which stands at the beginning of large stone sculptures in Greece. On the
basis of the great temporal distance between the Nikandre and the Hirschlanden or
Glauberg statues, these similarities cannot be explained as direct influence on sculp-
ture north of the Alps from Greek works (let alone sculptors). Instead, it is likely that
in both cases already distinctive types of images were transferred to another medium,
as from wood to stone. The oldest cult images of the Greek world—called Xoana—are
made of wood,72 and also for Hallstatt-period Central Europe wooden sculptures may
be postulated, which would have temporally preceded those in stone. Because of the
perishability of the material, they have been preserved only in the rarest of cases, so
that their development cannot be reconstructed.
Direct evidence of the presence of an Etruscan craftsman on the upper Danube
might be provided by the mold of a figural handle attachment from the Heuneburg
that shows a bearded Silenus head.73 The form, based on Etruscan models, is made of
native clay, so that an import can be excluded. The mold dates to the early fifth century
and throws a characteristic spotlight on how closely artworks south and north of the
Alps were bound up with each other—at least in individual cases—at the end of the
Late Hallstatt period. The grooved wheel-made pottery of the Late Hallstatt period
points in the same direction; it appears to be influenced at least partly by Etruscan
pottery and bronze vessels.74 The Etruscan-Italic influence in the Late Hallstatt period
thus was not limited to the influx of prestigious luxury goods for the symposium.
The most common Etruscan imports north of the Alps remain the bronze vessels.
In the case of the “Rhodian” bronze jugs,75 the origin—not what the name suggests—
remains controversial, though at least some come from central Italy.76 Christopher
Pare was able to make an Etruscan origin plausible for the jugs from Kappel-Grafen-
hausen (Ortenaukreis, Baden-Württemberg) and Inzigkofen-Vilsingen (Kr. Sigmarin-
gen, Baden-Württemberg); both burials contained material characteristic of the Ha
D 1 phase.
According to Krausse, the basins and bowls with embossed rims found north of
the Alps all belong to the later types, with the example from Chavéria being the sole
exception.77 This long-lived shape originated in the second half of the eighth century
in central Italy but also was later produced elsewhere, as evidenced, say, by their
massive presence in Greek colonies of Sicily and their hinterland. North of the Alps,
aside from a few examples from central Bohemia, bowls with embossed rims of the
Imola-Hundersingen and Hohmichele types are found only in the Late Hallstatt–
72 H.-V. Herrmann 1975, 39: “Das holzgeschnitzte Kultbild ist der Ursprung der griechischen Skulptur.“
73 von Hase 2000.
74 Lang 1974.
75 Summary: Shefton 1979.
76 Pare 1989, 445–47, fig. 16.
77 Krausse 1996, 242–78.

period princely graves of southwestern Germany.78 To be sure, morphological distinc-

tions appear to indicate that most representatives of the Hohmichele type were based
on a central Italic model and produced north of the Alps.79
Already in the middle of the nineteenth century, in Sainte-Colombe “La Garenne”
(département Côte-d’Or), not far from the princely site on Mont Lassois, a Late Hall-
statt princely grave produced a rod tripod and a cauldron with griffin heads.80 Such
cauldrons were produced in Greece under Oriental influence beginning in the late
eighth century and were among the most valuable dedicatory offerings of the Archaic
period in Greek sanctuaries. Production began later in Etruria as well, which stylisti-
cally cannot always be satisfactorily separated from Greek pieces. At least the caul-
dron from Sainte-Colombe is probably of Italic-Etruscan origin, as indicated by its
guilloche decoration, which in this form is not found on (western) Greek cauldrons,
but is very common in Etruscan works,81 such as a bronze basin from the princely
grave of Vix.82 Recently, though, Ulrich Gehrig has suggested that three of the four
griffin heads on the cauldron were cast in a western Greek workshop, but the fourth
is to be seen as a local product.83 Gehrig further supposes that the griffins did not
originally belong to the cauldron, which further complicates the question of its origin.
A similar bronze cauldron, onto whose shoulder originally griffin heads were riveted,
was found in a deposit in Hassle (Kirchspiel Glanshammar, Sweden), together with
two swords, two ciste, and twelve disks with concentric ribs.84 This vessel is also prob-
ably of Italic-Etruscan origin, even though here the heads are not preserved. Certainly
the cauldron did not arrive so far north directly, but—as the materials found with it
suggest—via northern Italy and the western Hallstatt area.
A bronze jug of the type Plumpe Kanne from Hatten in Alsace (département Bas-
Rhin) represents a rarity north of the Alps.85 It can be connected with the more numer-
ous Etruscan beaked flagons (Ger. Schnabelkannen), an example of which was found
in the same grave. The handle merges above into a lion’s head, and below into a pal-
mette crowned with an anchor.
Similarly unusual is the bronze amphora from Conliège near Lons-le-Saunier
(département Jura), whose handles are decorated with siren handle attachments and
78 Krausse 1996, 262–69, 270–76.

79 Krausse 1996, 276.
80 Joffroy 1957, 1960.
81 Egg 1996, 84–95, esp. 91–93. H.-V. Herrmann 1981, 90 already supported an Etruscan origin for the
cauldron.
82 A.-M. Adam 2003, 149–56; Egg 1996, 91–93.
83 Gehrig 2004, 109–10; see also Kimmig 1992, 312–14.
84 Åkerström 1941.
85 Frey 1957, 231, pls. 16, 17.1–2; Bouloumié 1973a, 16, 34, figs. 51–53; Schnitzler 1996, 107, fig. 3.

horse heads.86 The poorly preserved vessel, paralleled in Vulci and Bomarzo, lay in a
grave from the end of the Late Hallstatt period (Ha D 3).
There are also occasional pieces of jewelry that find their closest comparison in
Etruria—especially granulated and filigreed gold jewelry. Long known are a bead with
halfmoon-shaped pendants from Jegenstorf (Bern canton)87 and another from Ins
(Bern canton), which hangs on a chain woven from gold wire. Both pieces come from
grave contexts of the Ha C 2 phase; at least the one from Ins is a product of a workshop
south of the Alps.88 Recently filigreed spheres from a newly discovered princely grave
near the Heuneburg can be added.89
Occasionally there are even Italo-Etruscan bronze statuettes, e.g. in Vézelay
(département Yonne), although for these pieces as well, the circumstances of their
discovery appear doubtful. Not far from the princely site on the Ipf near Bopfingen
at Wallerstein-Ehringen (Lkr. Donau-Ries, Bavaria) a bronze statuette of a nude boy
was found in 1990.90 It finds its best parallels in the Etruscan figurines of the Late
Archaic and Early Classical periods and dates to the first quarter of the fifth century.
According to Martin Guggisberg, it probably comes from the sphere of the Etrusco-
Campanian bronze industry and was used as the top of a bronze cauldron.
3 Early La Tène period (Lt A/B = ca. 450–280 BCE)

In the Early La Tène period, the importation of objects from Etruria into the region
north of the Alps reached its peak. This is also consistent with the fact that in the late
sixth century the Etruscans had broadened the reach of their power into the Po Plain
and founded cities there, creating the basis for the increased transport of Etruscan
objects to the north. Furthermore, it was primarily bronze vessels that were imported
north of the Alps, customarily ascribed to the metal industry of south-Etruscan Vulci.
Such prestigious goods appear to be concentrated in princely graves between Cham-
pagne and the Bohemian basin, especially in the Middle Rhine and Saar region,
which beginning in the Ha D 3 phase, underwent dynamic development. Southwest
Germany, still so dominant in Ha D, however, now strongly retreats and yields only a
few Etruscan objects, e.g. from the burial chamber of the Kleinaspergle near Asperg
(Kr. Ludwigsburg, Baden-Württemberg).91
86 Lerat 1958; Roulière-Lambert 1987, 203–5, figs. 266.2, 268, 269.

87 Binggeli 2003.
88 Most recently Hansen 2010, 80–81.
89 Krausse and Ebinger-Rist 2011a, esp. 109, fig. 62, 2011b, 207, fig. 11, 2013, 124, fig. 83. See also
Krausse and Ebinger-Rist 2014, esp. 118, fig. 83 (Sanguisuga-type fibulae).
90 Krause, Böhr and Guggisberg 2005, 223–32.
91 Kimmig 1988.

The “type fossil” for Etruscan imports of the Early La Tène period is represented
by the bronze beaked flagons (Schnabelkannen) that were used for serving wine or
other strong drink.92 The oldest examples in Italy date to the last third of the sixth
century. North of the Alps, they appear first in graves of the Ha D 3 phase, e.g. in the
princely grave of Vix,93 and are especially common in princely graves of the Early
La Tène period (Fig. 83.6). Typological distinctions can be brought out especially by
reference to the form of handle attachment (anchor type, serpent type, volute type),
from which it emerges that north of the Alps, jugs with volute handle attachments,
rare in Italy, predominate. The great preference for this type of jug is also expressed
in the fact that it was imitated in both bronze and clay, where the shape was not
simply copied, but stylistically remodeled according to local tastes. Bronze jugs of this
kind are known only from five findspots (Asperg “Kleinaspergle” [Kr. Ludwigsburg,
Baden-Württemberg],94 Dürrnberg near Hallein [Hallein, Salzburg],95 Basse-Yutz
[département Moselle],96 Geisa-Borsch [Wartburgkreis, Thuringia],97 and Glauberg
[Wetteraukreis, Hesse]98). Out of the imagination of Celtic metalworkers was born also
the beaked flagon from burial mound I of Weiskirchen (Kr. Merzig-Wadern, Saarland),
which was put together from the bottom of a stamnos and the top of a beaked flagon.99
Components of an Etruscan wine service likewise formed two-handled stamnoi
with satyr handle attachments, which north of the Alps clearly occur less commonly
than beaked flagons.100 The largest concentration of such vessels, which were used
from the end of the sixth into the fourth century, is observed between Lorraine and the
Middle Rhine, a core region of the Early La Tène period princely grave custom.
Bronze sieves—known in Central Europe since the Late Bronze Age—in the Hall-
statt and Early La Tène periods were only rarely part of drinking sets.101 Aside from
a few locally produced examples, the Etruscan straining ladle from Nonnweiler-
Schwarzenbach (Kr. St. Wendel, Saarland) has long remained unique.102 In the Med-
iterranean area, sieves were an indispensable banqueting utensil, since they were
used to filter out the spices that had been added to the wine. It is certainly no acci-
dent that sieves found little acceptance north of the Alps. The native elites did imitate
92 Jacobsthal and Langsdorff 1929; Bouloumié 1973a, 1973b; Eiden 1995; Vorlauf 1997; A.-M. Adam
2003, 144-47.
93 A.-M. Adam 2003, 144-47.
94 Kimmig 1988, 87–103.
95 Moosleitner 1985.
96 Megaw and Megaw 1990; Haffner 1993.
97 Storch 1986.
98 Baitinger and Pinsker 2002, 242–45 cat. 1.1, figs. 233–36.
99 Haffner 1976, 218 cat. 21, pls. 13.9a–d, 158.2, 159, 160.
100 Shefton 1988; Geiß-Dreier 1992.
101 Dehn 1970; Egg, Hauschild and Schönfelder 2006, 199–205.
102 Haffner 1976, 204 cat. 15, pls. 9.3, 151.3; Geiß-Dreier 1992, 95 fig. 6, 98 cat. 16.

Fig. 83.6: Distribution of Etruscan beaked flagons (Schnabelkannen)

(after Baitinger and Pinsker 2002, 52, fig. 29)

the Mediterranean drinking customs, but they altered them according to their own
ideas. Thus they did not use the infundibulum (straining funnel) widespread in the
Mediterranean,103 or the “cheese grater” common in Italic graves and Greek sanctuar-
ies, with which wine was sprinkled with cheese or other condiments.104 This could
also indicate that in Central Europe wine was not commonly consumed, but other
intoxicants like mead or beer. Archaeobotanical investigations of the bronze jugs from
the Glauberg indicate that at the time they were buried, they were filled with mead,
as was the cauldron in the Hochdorf princely grave.105 In the settlement of Hochdorf
there are indications that beer was brewed there.106 Greek or Italic wine must have
flowed only relatively seldom down the throats of the local elites, even though it is
still indicated as an important export to the Early Celtic “princely courts” of Central
Europe.107
Flat, steep-sided bronze basins or bowls, some of which bear a circling decora-
tion below the rim, were used for serving food.108 They often occur in graves in sets of
two in different sizes. North of the Alps they are primarily distributed in the Middle
Rhine region and Bohemia (Fig. 83.7); the oldest representatives come from the Ha D 3
phase princely grave from Vix.109 In Central Italy, such basins, which probably follow
the basins with embossed rims (Ger. Perlrandbecken), were used from the end of the
sixth to the beginning of the fourth century.
Distinct from these is a basin from the fifth or early fourth century, of which only
one of the massive handles has survived, in the form of two wrestling youths. This
handle, which goes back to Greek models of the Late Archaic period, was found in
about 1855 near Nidda-Borsdorf (Wetteraukreis, Hesse), only about 12 km from the
princely site on the Glauberg.110 Wolfgang Kimmig has suggested that this piece rep-
resents the last remnant of an unnoticed destroyed princely grave.
Etruscan beakers are represented north of the Alps only by the examples from
Ferschweiler (Kr. Bitburg-Prüm, Rhineland-Palatinate) and Bescheid (Kr. Trier-Saar-
burg, Rhineland-Palatinate).111 Comparable vessels are known from Etruscan tombs
of the second half of the fifth and the early fourth century. In Etruria, beakers were not
used as drinking vessels but as ladles with which wine was served from a stamnos.
As in the Late Hallstatt period, there were also bronze vessels in the Early La
Tène period, which occur north of the Alps only once. The amphora with a pointed
103 Naso 2006; see chapter 88 Naso.

104 Krapf 2009; see chapter 13 Kistler.
105 Körber-Grohne 1985, 121–22; Rösch 2002.
106 Stika 1995, 82–83.
107 E.g. Bouloumié 1987, 32–33; Pape 2004. See Stöllner 2004, 144–47.
108 Schönfelder 2001, esp. 322–33; A.-M. Adam 2003, 147–49.
109 A.-M. Adam 2003, 147–49.
110 Kimmig 1990.
111 Haffner 1976, 174 cat. 4, pls. 1.11, 130.2; Haffner 1981; Husty 1990; Wigg 1992, 88 cat. 12–13.

Fig. 83.7: Distribution of Etruscan bronze basins (after Schönfelder 2001, 324, fig. 8)

base from Grave 1 at Nonnweiler-Schwarzenbach (Kr. St. Wendel, Saarland) displays

a tongue-shaped ornament on the shoulder and crouching Silenuses on the handle
attachments.112 This item dates to the first half of the fifth century but was found in
a grave of the Lt A period. The best comparison comes from Vulci, which can also be
assumed to be its place of manufacture.
Also unique is an Etruscan olpe of Weber’s type IIIB, which is said to have been
discovered in 1897 in the Riesenquelle (“spring of giants”) at Lahošť (Okr. Teplice,
Czech Republic) near Duchov/Dux in northwestern Bohemia, a decade and a half
later than the famous Early La Tène bronze deposit.113 The jug dates to the late sixth
or first half of the fifth century and thus belongs to a series of Etruscan imports that
reached Bohemia during the end of the Late Hallstatt and Early La Tène periods.
The rod tripod from Bad Dürkheim (Kr. Bad Dürkheim, Rhineland-Palatinate)
was found in a princely grave of the Lt A period that was excavated unsystematically
as early as the 1860s. It also yielded an Etruscan stamnos, which like the tripod was
made in ca. 500 or in the early fifth century in Vulci.114 These are the highest quality
Etruscan imports found north of the Alps.115
At the end of our list shall stand an equal-armed bronze precision balance, which
was found in a settlement not far from the large burial mound of Eberdingen-Hoch-
dorf.116 Additional Mediterranean imports were uncovered there, specifically frag-
ments of Attic red-figure vases and even remains of figs, as have also been detected
in a settlement in Bad Nauheim (Wetteraukreis, Hesse).117 The Hochdorf scale beam
is by far the oldest find of this kind north of the Alps, and judging by its size it was
used for weighing precious metals or coins. It could indicate the adoption of Mediter-
ranean systems of weights and measures, just as Lorenz Rahmstorf and Christopher
Pare have interpreted a series of objects as a set of weights.118
Etruscan-Italic influences can now be seen more strongly in artistic crafts. Stone
sculpture has already been mentioned, and in the Early La Tène period there arose in
Central Europe a new artistic style, both original and unconventional, whose reper-
toire of motifs was nourished by Etruscan-Greek roots and translated into a native-
Celtic language of form.119 After a long continuous phase in which the populations
north of the Alps were confronted with imports from the Mediterranean area, with the
112 Haffner 1976, 200–3 cat. 15, pls. 144.3a–b, 145, 146; Peltz 2004.
113 Cvrková and Jančo 2002.
114 Frey and Polenz 1986, 263–66, pl. 19a; Joachim 2013.
115 Frey and Polenz 1986, 264. A compendious treatment of Etruscan rod tripods was prepared by
G. Bardelli within his dissertation “Etruskische Stabdreifüße – I tripodi a verghette in Etruria.” See
most recently Bardelli 2015.
116 Biel 1995, 34, fig. 7.
117 Stika 1995, 86–87, fig. 16; Kreuz and Boenke 2000–2001, 240, fig. 8.
118 Rahmstorf and Pare 2007.
119 Jacobsthal 1944; Müller 2009.

Lt A period, these took on a new quality, launched independent developments, and

made their mark on an age that directly predates the Celtic invasions of Italy.
Attic vases, on the other hand, in Lt A only occasionally reached the north, prob-
ably via northern Italy (Adria, Spina) and the Alpine passes. They are distributed in
a broad arc from Champagne to Bohemia. From a settlement at Chržín (Okr. Kladno)
in central Bohemia even comes an imitation of an Attic bowl.120 Astonishingly, in
Bohemia—unlike in southern Germany and eastern France—Greek vases and Medi-
terranean glass vessels have been found only in lowland settlements, while Etrus-
can bronze vessels except the Dux olpe come from princely graves.121 In the late sixth
and fifth centuries, Etruscan imports reached Bohemia in greater numbers.122 From
the fortified hilltop settlement of Vladař near Záhořice (Okr. Karlovy Vary) in West
Bohemia comes an anthropomorphic foot of a vessel in the form of a male figure
wearing a helmet of the Negau type. Miloslav Chytráček thinks it is the foot of a pyxis
made in northern Italy or the eastern Alps that goes back to Etruscan models.123
With the Lt B 1 phase, the custom of princely graves disappears in Central Europe,
so the number of Italic-Etruscan imports drops off significantly. Their general absence
in the Middle La Tène period is thus attributed to the changed sources of transmis-
sion. Only with the Late Celtic Oppida civilization in the second and first centuries
BCE did Italic goods arrive north of the Alps in renewed numbers.
The question is continually raised as to which goods served as return presents
to the south for the Mediterranean imports,124 without achieving agreement. Sug-
gestions include raw materials (e.g. salt, gold, tin, amber), animal products (hides,
leather, wool) or “manpower” (slaves). The basic question is certainly wrongly put,
as long as little is known of the structure of the contacts. Did Etruscans and Greeks
maintain direct relations with representatives of the Central European elites, which
presupposes a modus vivendi with culture groups between origin and endpoint? Was
it a matter of expeditions that daring traveling salesmen undertook at their own risk,
comparable to the lucrative journey of the Samian Kolaios to Tartessos, reported
by Herodotus (4.152)? Or were the prestige goods brought to the north by a chain of
exchanges, perhaps promoted by gift exchange between representatives of local elites,
which causes great chronological inconsistencies between the times of creation and
deposition?125 How varied the picture can be is shown by the sometimes highly het-
erogeneous cargos of ancient shipwrecks in the Mediterranean.
120 Chytráček 2008.
121 Chytráček 2008, 83, fig. 18.
122 Chytráček 2002; Hauser and Schönfelder 2014.
123 Chytráček and Metlička 2004, 43–44, 282, fig. 10, 10a. See also Hauser and Schönfelder 2014,
437–440, fig. 3.1.
124 Düwel, Jankuhn, Siems and Timpe 1985; Stöllner 2004.
125 Guggisberg 2004.

It must also be kept in mind that the political and social relationships, both south
and north of the Alps, changed considerably during the period treated here. This also
had repercussions on the preferred trade routes. In particular, Ludwig Pauli has tried
hard to grasp the time span and the displacements of these routes.126 Obviously the
Alpine passes played a major role very early on, while the Rhône-Saône-Doubs route
was meaningful especially in the Late Hallstatt period (Ha D 2/3).127 Across the eastern
Alps, already in Ha C/D 1 Italic imports reached Poland and northern and central
Germany, which were probably sent north via Moravia and southwestern Slovakia,
while Bohemia with the Moldau-Elbe route appears to have come more sharply into
focus only in Ha D 2/3.128 One cannot help thinking of a literal connection with the
transport of amber, which was traded from the Baltic Sea to the south and that was
transformed south of the Alps into gorgeous pieces of jewelry in centers like Veruc-
chio.129
4 Concluding remarks
It may be stated in conclusion that occasionally beginning in the Late Urnfield and
Early Hallstatt periods, and more so in the Late Hallstatt / Early La Tène periods,
central Italic–Etruscan imports reached the area north of the Alps. They played an
important role for the native elites, who also legitimated and distinguished them-
selves through the possession of such prestigious objects and endeavored to create a
network of relationships and dependencies through their exchange with each other.
A considerable portion of the imported materials is connected with eating and
drinking equipment and thus with festive elite symposia. Indeed the spectrum of
imported tableware—such as Greek vases—is limited and in no way comprises the
entire bandwidth of what was needed for a symposium in the Etruscan-Greek area.
Equipment like “cheese graters” or straining funnels, which were needed for spicing
wine, are not found north of the Alps, obviously because beer and mead were pre-
ferred; roasting spits and firedogs are also rarely found. Instead, containers for
liquids and barware predominate, such as beaked flagons (Schnabelkannen), which
toward the end of the Late Hallstatt period and in the Early La Tène period become a
“type fossil” of Etruscan imports north of the Alps. With the increased arrival of Medi-
terranean goods in the north, increasing influence on native artistic crafts becomes
noticeable, manifested in the emergence of the Celtic La Tène style, the development
of stone sculpture, and the imitation of Etruscan bronze vessels (e.g. beaked flagons,
126 Pauli 1993, 162–70, figs. 40–43.

127 See, for example, Pare 1989, 441–54; Pape 2000; 2004.
128 Chytráček 2008, 78–88.
129 See chapter 76 von Eles.

mold from the Heuneburg). How deeply these influences might have affected daily
life is shown by the appearance of the potter’s wheel (grooved wheel-made pottery),
the adoption of Etruscan fashion (colored cloth, pointed shoes), the consumption of
dried fruit from the Mediterranean area (remains of figs), and the use of a precision
balance as in the settlement of Hochdorf. Other aspects can be adjudged only with
difficulty, as they mostly elude archaeological proof, such as the cut and decoration
of clothing. It is therefore not surprising that opinions in the scholarly world differ on
how deeply Mediterranean-Etruscan influences were felt in Central Europe.
From the beginning, the Trans-Alpine communication routes above all appear
to have possessed special significance. On one side, they ran via the western Padan
Golasecca culture, on the other via the eastern Alps and through Bohemia/Moravia
to Silesia, on routes that must have largely followed the legendary “amber road.”
Beginning in the second half of the sixth century with the rise of Massalia/Marseille,
the route via Rhône, Saône, and Doubs became increasingly significant and brought
Mediterranean imports to eastern France and southwestern Germany. The contacts
reached their apex in the Late Hallstatt and Early La Tène periods, as Etruscan and
Greek imports belonged among the indispensable components in princely graves of
the native elites. With the abandonment of the custom of princely graves in Lt B 1, the
number of Etruscan objects diminishes greatly. At the same time, Celtic bands were
advancing on central Italy and were conquering Rome in 387 BCE. We then arrive at a
historical turning point that is no longer the topic of this article.
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Etruscan Finds in the Mediterranean

Olivier Jehasse
84 Corsica
Abstract: Greek and Latin literary sources, ancient inscriptions and archaeological finds show that
the relationships between the island of Corsica and the Etruscans were uninterrupted from the Iron
Age to the Middle Republican period. The role of the Corsica is stressed by the mentioning of the
island in the three treaties between Rome and Carthage.
Keywords: Kurnos, Aleria, Alaliè, Phocaeans, Etruscans
1 Before the Etruscans

The history of Corsica and Etruria is that of two regions that have long been entangled
in a fruitful network of large strategic relationships. Off the coasts of what was to
become the Tyrrhenian Sea and during fruitful prehistoric times, Corsica had devel-
oped a highly developed rural civilization.1
But Corsica is also the land of “Korsois,” a name that may be related to the myth
of the girl Corsa, who came from Liguria to occupy the island. Another ancient ety-
mology claims that the word Korsè is derived from the word Korsas—the “forested
crests” quoted from Denys the Periegetan.2 Thus, it was a useful territory at the dis-
posal of the Etruscans when they emerged as a political and maritime power around
the ninth century BCE.
Two kinds of sources condition the knowledge of this early period—the archaeo-
logical explorations of the prehistoric sites, and a written source dealing with the
moves of Etruscan populations toward the shore.
Between 1500 and 800 BCE, the relations of the islanders with foreign lands
broadened, both with the northern and eastern countries, specifically with the major
Mediterranean islands. A bronze ingot from Cyprus shaped like a oxhide was discov-
ered in Borgu, south of Bastia. Dating back to the seventeenth century, this type of
object was well known in Italy and in nearby Sardinia, and is evidence that in Corsica
the dealers’ and merchants’ had contacts contact with the far Western countries. A
bronze fibula resembling a violin bow from eleventh century Sicily, shows that the
relations were broadly opened to the whole Tyrrhenian basin3. The presence of amber
remains on the mountain site of Cucuruzzu in Levie in southern Corsica, together
with a hypogeum of the Early Bronze Age in the area of Aleria on the eastern coast,
attest that products from the Baltic penetrated the civilization of the casteddi that had
1 Jehasse 2003; Arrighi and Jehasse 2008.

2 Dionys. Per., 457–460.
3 Jehasse 1986b.
1642 Olivier Jehasse
been created in the previous centuries. The casteddi are fortified villages built in the
valleys in order to control access to the beaches, the sea and the roads leading to the
peaks of mountains. The coincidence between the number of sites registered by the
archaeologists and that mentioned in the classical sources (thirty-three, thirty-two or
twenty-four—it varies according to the writer4) is quite impressive.
In the Bronze Age ceramics copied the decorative motifs of the cultures from high-
land Italy, dubbed the Apenninic culture of Central Italy. The presence of stelae statues
in arms is evidence that much stronger hierarchic features were developing in this
society. The erect stelae are turned into real statues, with clearly depicted faces and
varied expressions, and carefully decorated on both sides. The type of armament with
which they are portrayed is definitely new and is linked to the increase in the number
of Bronze Age weapons in continental Europe. Stelae statues can be found alone or in
clusters and they are present in the casteddi. A large collection of bronze axes from
several findspots reveals steady work in the mountain forests. And in this area of
bronze-users one can note the widespread usage of adornment items for dress, such as
fibulas, humble or showy hooks—more than 100 hooks have been recorded—buttons
and solar rings. In the Bronze Age the metal was probably worked locally, not only
thanks to the island’s resources but also because foreign models were very often imi-
tated and reproduced. The number of remaining stone molds supports the theory that
these early Corsicans had thoroughly mastered the metal melting technique.5 The high
standard of metallurgic development is one of the major characteristics of the time
and is no doubt the source of the relationships between the Etruscans and the island.
A text by Servius deals with the relationships between the Etruscans and Corsica.
He relates that in the tenth–ninth centuries, “according to some people, after the
twelve peoples from Etruria had already settled, Populonia was built by a people from
the island of Corsica in Italy; for others it was a colony that belonged to the inhabit-
ants of Volterra; still others claim that the inhabitants of Volterra had torn Populonia
away from Corsican people.”6
As early as the first centuries of the first millennium, this narrative stresses the
structured presence of the islanders also out of the island and emphasizes a period
of conflict over Populonia, which exploited the iron of Aethalia/Elba. This antago-
nism between the citizens of Volterra, a blossoming city, and the Corsi, whose attacks
against each other in order to gain full control over this haven that connects all the
commercial roads of the Mediterranean, is exemplary. And if this reveals a defeat for
the islanders, it nevertheless did not put an end to their relationships with the Tyr-
rhenian Sea.
4 Thirty-three cities: Solin. 37. 151–152. Thirty-two cities: Plin., HN 3. 75. 199. Twenty-four cities: Ptol.
Geog. 3.2.1–7.
5 Jehasse 1986a.
6 Serv. ad Aen., 9. 587 (transl. by O. Jehasse).

84 Corsica 1643
2 The eighth–seventh centuries BCE

The development that began at the end of the second millennium saw a rapid increase
beginning in the eighth century, evidenced by the history and archaeology of Alaliè/
Aleria, a large site on the island’s eastern coast. This ancient site has recent been rec-
ognized as a real and own city at the center of the island’s foreign relationships and a
place which is characteristic for the whole island. We may assert, today, that the city
receives external incomers only once the islanders have built it. It is not boiled down
to a settlement in a specific place but it is, indeed, a site widely opened to the ancient
Tyrrhenian. The town is backed up by a network of modern features. A road led to the
island’s south and two ports are in full play—the first of two ports is Tavignani, known
in ancient times as Rhotanos (“the large and navigable river,” as the Rhodian sailors
called it), the second one is on the northern bank of the pool of Urbinu, terminus of
the archaic road.
This period corresponds to the erection of what Jean and Laurence Jehasse call the
West Monument: this was a complex mix of architectural techniques. On a foundation
of boulders, the walls are built with stones and carefully selected clay, including also
elements of wood.7 Here have been discovered stamped ceramic from the first millen-
nium, bucchero and Etruscan amphorae from the seventh century, Punic ceramics,
ceramics from eastern Greece (Ionia and Rhodes), and from the Euboean territory, as
well as fibulas and molded ceramics made in Corsica. This first building appears as
an adaptation of the model of the casteddi found in the island’s other regions.
3 The sixth century BCE

This century saw two great moments of evolution that directly affected the Etruscan
world. According to Antiochus, it was under the leadership of Créontiadès that the
Phocaeans went west—first to Massilia, and then to Kurnos.8 He would have sailed
between Massilia and Alaliè between 600—the date of Massilia’s foundation—and 565
BCE, the date when the first group of Phocaeans settled in Alaliè. Their settlement is
well known because it is briefly described by Herodotus, who asserts that the Phocae-
ans “have raised the walls of a city named Alaliè.”9 Through archaeological explora-
tion, we recognize mud brick superstructures, erected on top of a building from the
previous period, similar to the pattern of ancient Hellenic fortifications. Behind a wall
making a defense at the hillock, a series of probably military constructions made by
7 Jehasse and Jehasse 1971; 2004.

8 Antiochus, in Strabo 6. 1. 1.
9 Hdt. 1. 165.

earth with timber floors is standing; this hybrid defensive wall seems characteristic of
an early stage of the warfare developed by the Greeks.
The arrival of a second group of Phocaeans in 545, a more expansionist group of
pirates, gave a new impulse. Once more, according to Herodotus, in 540, “the Etruscans
and the Carthaginians, in accordance with a concerted plan” prepared an expedition
against the Phocaeans. The diplomatic and military arrival of the Etruscans happened
for two reasons—because of the dangers that threatened the maritime roads under the
command of Caere (so that this city was directly concerned with these events), and
because of the antiquity of the relationships in the western Mediterranean among
Etruscans and Carthaginians. The Etruscans intervened because they couldn’t leave
this territory—which had become essential to their development—under the control
of others. On Corsica and the Tyrrhenian Sea, the battle mobilized all of the powers at
the only crossing of the east-west roads of Etruria at Tartessos in southern Spain, and
the north-south roads between Sicily and Marseille, Sardinia and the Languedoc. This
throws a new light on Herodotus’s phrase “Cadmean victory,” where the reference
to Cadmus, the founder of Thebes, must be interpreted as an attempt to convey that
these events ended up in a genuine negotiation, and a great treaty between the dif-
ferent protagonists. Caere’s Etruscans flouted the treaty, but it allowed the Phocaeans
to gather their goods and choose a new destination. This clearly suggests a certain
diplomacy and a fundamental role played by Etruscan towns in the island’s history.10
If the role of Caere in Corsica seemed diminished after the battle, it is almost
certain that Volterra, Tarquinia, and Etruscan Rome would have greatly benefitted.
This is what the study of the bucchero found in Corsica continues to prove, the major-
ity of registered items from this period being bucchero pesante produced in the inte-
rior of Etruria. Its presence in Corsica has naturally led scholars to believe that it was
circulated via the great Etruscan ports of the sixth century.
4 540–506: the Etruscan domination

Having become the “masters of the towns of Kurnos” according to Diodorus of Sicily,11
which that is to say masters of the places from which the founding fathers of the first
Alaliè originated, the Etruscans, as international victors, exploited Corsica thanks to
an elaborate fiscal policy of drawing “tribute from resinous trees, wax and honey.”
This was the reason for the growth of the city of Alaliè. Some modern scholars mention
the possibility of the existence of a temple overlooking the plain to the west, a theory
supported by the fact that a statue of a lying lion was discovered. Thanks to their
10 Bernardini et al. 2000.

11 Diod. Sic. 5.13–14.

84 Corsica 1645
research at the back of the fortifications, they also stress the presence of a suburb
organized around an East-West street, divided into two groups of small houses, which
abutted the fortified edifice.12 It was here that Etruscan, Punic and Ionian artifacts,
and black-figure Attic ceramics from Athens, were discovered. The local productions
are the best represented ones in the series of ceramics found at this fortification, and
they reflect the richness, as shown by the building of the first monumental tombs of
the necropolis around the end of the century.
5 The necropolis of Alaliè

Archaeologists have accurately analyzed the structures and furnishings that have
been discovered, dating them to three periods—from the sixth–fourth centuries, from
350—259, and from 259—150 BCE.13 The richness of the finds—including ceramics,
stones, molten glass, bone, bronze, silver and gold—from the first two periods has
been crucial to answering questions about the social organization and the values of
the inhabitants of the city.
The tombs are monumental, with halls leading to antechambers shut by mud
brick doors that separate them from the funeral rooms, which have three benches
around a central pit. This kind of tomb is original in itself, but is closely linked to
Etruscan models. It is the richness and the variety of the furnishings discovered
that illustrates the connections between Mediterranean cultures and the interests
and needs of the Corsican people. There were clearly many such connections since
items from Etruria, Carthage, Athens, Iberia, Celtic countries, Latium, and Campa-
nia have been identified along with a high percentage—around 30% on average—of
local ceramics, made according to traditional techniques. The bronze finds, jewels,
helmets, gold and graffiti suggest that between 530 and 475 BCE, the necropolis was
Etruscan. This phase corresponds to the presence of a group of Etruscans particularly
active in the city of Alaliè. The collected graffiti show a predominance of Etruscan
writing in the city.14 Moreover, the belonging to the Etruscan world is historically con-
firmed by the role Corsica acquired in the first treaty between Rome and Carthage
(509–508 BCE),15 which significantly arrive at this period.
Corsica is mentioned in the three treaties between Rome and Carthage, and
Servius calls it “neutral … between the Romans and the Carthaginians.” It is certain
that Etruscan hegemony was not limited to the territory of Alaliè, but had a presence
in all of the key coastal sites—and no longer only on the eastern coast, with an settle-

14 Heurgon 1973.
15 Colonna 2010.

ment n the north surrounding what would become Roman Mariana, in the south with
one or two settlements northwest of Balagna in the Gulf of Porto Vecchio, and in the
southwest in what would become the Roman port of Tizzanu, which faces Sardinia.
Hezychius explains the name of Kurnos with a twofold etymology—that of Kurnos,
the son of Hercules, and that of Kurniata, which he defines as the most ancient Etrus-
can anchorage. Hence, we discover once more the essential link between the inter-
national politics carried out by the Etruscan confederation and its permanent use of
exchanges and economic development.
6 506–420 BCE: the place of Corsica

in the international political issues at stake
Nearly thirty years after the treaties, in 480 BC, Herodotus writes that “an army includ-
ing Phoenicians, Libyans, Iberians, Ligurians, Elisyches, Sardonians, and Kurnians
amounting to 300,000 soldiers under the command of Hamilcar, the son of Hannon,
the king of the Carthaginians” fought in the battle of Himera. This battle, in which
the Greeks and Syracusans managed to ward off Etruscan pressure from the Sicilian
coasts, was a major turning point in the history of Etruscan and Corsican relations,
which can be checked thanks to the archaeology of Alaliè.
What is surprising in the Syracusan politic is that, once again, the goal was not to
take hold of the city, but merely to gain politic control over it, which happened for the
first time in 458. According to Diodorus, Himera was under the reign of Hieron when the
Syracusans suddenly rebelled against Etruscan domination in the occidental Mediter-
ranean area and sent Apelles and a fleet to the Tyrrhenian Sea. Apelles attacked Etruria
and Corsica, taking “back a great number of prisoners and tremendous spoils.” With
such an achievement, Syracuse asserted itself as the most powerful Hellenic power
between the Italic peninsula and the islands of Corsica and Sardinia. Thus, Syracuse
was slowly able to increase its control over Himera’s inhabitants, once Etruscan power
had been hard hit. The East Monument in Alaliè was built according to the new Greek
models, and was meant to be seen from the sea. Built to secure a defensive presence,
this monument seems to be the work of a power that had succeeded in overcoming
the Etruscans. The fortress demonstrates an evolution of the architectural standards.
Resting on beds of well cut stones, it is testimony to a knowledge of the earth and
brick used for a military building, and features a spectacular new innovation— a high
dungeon tower that overlooking the entire site, clearly visible from the sea and land.
The monument dates to the fifth century, but it is also obvious that the previous struc-
tures have merely been complemented by the addition of this monumental realization.
This is ascertained by a number of things—first, by the uninterrupted presence of
dwellers in the houses behind the West Monument; second, by the discovery of the
metallurgic zone on the other side of the plateau; and above all, by the extraordinary

84 Corsica 1647
expansion of the necropolis, whose richness increased constantly with each passing
generation. Indeed, between 475 and 420, the presence of Athens was felt, along with
that of Naples—a former ally of the Etruscans—and Syracuse. The tombs from this
period are rich as they were before, and featured items and adornments such as stone
burial markers (It. cippi) from the region of Pisa, Iberian belt clasps, and iron swords
with a clear Celtic influence. The tombs of two men contain drinking cups with Etrus-
can inscriptions. The first, Kaile from the gens Caelia, died in Aleria between 450 and
425 BCE. The death the second, Klavtie from the gens Claudia, is dated by a graffito
to 425 BCE. And we deeply feel that the Roman vision is changing. Plutarch wrote
that “when the Romans were warring against the Etruscans, they elected Valerius
Torquatus general. When he beheld the king’s daughter, whose name was Clusia, he
asked the Etruscan for his daughter; but when he failed to obtain her, he attempted
to sack the city. Clusia threw herself down from the battlements; but by the foresight
of Venus her garment billowed out, and she came safely to the ground. The general
violated her, and for all these reasons was banished by public decree of the Romans
to Corsica, an island off Italy. So Theophilus in the third book of his Italian History.” 16
During the fifth century, when Rome decided to make its authority felt in Etruria—
and more specifically in the territory of Chiusi—the first name of the king’s daughter
can be recognized in the city’s name. Chiusi, a new Etruscan city, intervenes in Cor-
sica’s history, a fact that the study of bucchero pesante in the previous century had
already hinted. It is doubtless that the quotation of the Roman presence in the island
is connected to later events.17
7 The fourth century BCE
7.1 384–345 BCE: The Etruscan weakening
A notice written by Diodorus that dates to between 378–377 BCE ascertains the Roman
interest for Sardinia, when he recalls that during those years “the Romans sent 500 set-
tlers to Sardinia, freeing them from taxes.” Even though it is better to define the word
“settlers” as “entrepreneurs,” the notice confirms the pursuance of the exchanges
provided for in the first treaty between Rome and Carthage, which already mentioned
potential mercantile exchange in Sardinia. Rome was not an Etruscan city any longer,
but an autonomous power, eager to build new policies in full accordance with its
own interests. Theophrastus, during the first half of the fourth century, relates: “But
largest of all, they say, are the trees of Corsica; for whereas silver-fir and fir grow in
16 Plut. Para. 13.1, transl. by F. C. Babbitt (1936).

17 Cristofani 1993.

Latium to a very great size, and are taller and finer than the silver-firs and firs of
South Italy, these are said to be nothing to the trees of Corsica. For it it is told how
the Romans once made an expedition to that island with twenty-five ships, wishing
to found a city there; and so great was the size of the trees that, as they sailed into
certain bays and creeks, they got into difficulties through breaking their masts. And in
general it is said that whole island is thickly wooded and, as it were, one wild forest;
wherefore the Romans gave up the idea of founding their city; however some of them
made an excursion into the island and cleared away a large quantity of trees from a
small area, enough to make a raft with fifty sails; but this broke up in the open sea.
Corsica then, whether because of its uncultivated condition, or because of its soil and
climate is very superior in trees to other countries.”18
The interest of Rome and the history of Etruria proves that Etruscan power had
been seriously weakened on Corsica. The pressures from Rome, Carthage and Syra-
cuse—once more—bear over the evidence of it.
Indeed, Syracuse’s influence was always present. In 384, Denys of Syracuse led
a successful naval expedition against the Etruscans in Corsica. Corsica’s “Syracusan
port,” located in the Gulf of Porto Vecchio, was subsequently created on the very
place where there had previously been a kurniata, mentioned by Diodorus. Likewise,
the appearance of a Charax—a small fort that would have been erected on the south-
ern piedmont of the territory of Alaliè and is mentioned in Strabo’s Geography—might
suggest the establishment of a structured strategic and economic cohesion after that
victory. But the Syracusan presence is soon confronted with other cities, like Carthage,
which would react not only in Sicily but especially in Sardinia, where its political
presence was ever stronger, Naples and Campania,and above all Tarentum, whose
role become even more important. As for the Etruscan cities, their indifference to the
destruction of Veii, the extinction of Caere as a political power and the strengthening
of the links between Tarquinia and Rome suggest that the Etruscan nation was no
longer able to claim a strategic role, but went on exercising a well-defined commercial
and cultural influence.
This influence is illustrated by the second phase of the necropolis and the super-
strata of the two monuments on Alaliè’s plateau. Local items were still produced but
the genuine Etruscan items were, from then on, in competition with products mostly
from Rome, but also from Latium, Campania, and even Carthage, and as a result, the
imports from Syracuse and Athens dried up. More precisely, the former group of part-
ners, which included Tarquinia, Caere and Rome, was replaced by cities from Central
and Southern Italy. This, however, did not alter the general richness of Alaliè in any
way. The necropolis was indeed in full use during the fourth century. Aaccording to
J. and L. Jehasse between 350 and 259 BCE, all the funerary interments contained
Etruscan and Roman items, such as the Etruscan red-figured stemmed plates of
18 Theophr. Hist. pl. 5. 8.1–3, transl. by A. Hort (1916).

84 Corsica 1649
the Genucilia class from Caere, or black-varnished cups of the “ atelier des petites
estampilles” from Rome. And from the Greek world, only Campania and the region of
Tarentum had a close relationship with Alaliè, but this did not prevent the continued
Etruscan cultural influence.
Six Etruscan graffiti and a collection of bronze mirrors, which are likely linked
with Tarquinia,19 are the final clear evidence of the quality of the relationships
between the inhabitants of Alaliè and the Etruscan cities.
7.2 345–300 BCE: A world on standby
The second half of the fourth century shows a world on standby. On one side, as an
obvious sign of the transformations still in progress, Carthage and Rome signed a new
treaty that laid out an alliance and the organization of their respective areas. Polybius
transmits a version that dates to 348 BCE. After the first treaty in 509–508 BCE, the
Carthaginians signed a second, in which the Kurnians and the people of Utica were
included. To the Fair Promontory quoted in the first treaty (probably just north of
Carthage) are added Mastia and Tarseo, the boundaries beyond which, as it is stated,
the Romans should neither sack nor found cities. Here is the text of the treaty without
any frills: “In accordance with these conditions, the friendship between the Romans
and their allies, and the peoples of Carthaginians, of Kurnians, and of the inhabitants
of Utica and their allies is secured. The Romans will not proceed to sacks, will not
trade and will not found cities beyond the Fair Promontory of Mastia and Tarseiou.”20
The recognition of the Kurnians’ political weight generated, among other things,
a reduction in the number of the historical protagonists. Former partners—Carthage
and Rome—became enemies, and from then on were the only powers who may
attempted to dominate the Tyrrhenian geographical area. The years that preceded the
expeditions of Pyrrhus—the king of Epirus—show that in this area occur the events
which will deeply change the previous equilibriums.
8 300–259 BCE: The joint pressure of Rome

and Carthage
Here again it is the history of the necropolis that offers the greatest amount of infor-
mation, the archaeological knowledge about that period being still full of gaps. In the
tombs that belong to the third phase of utilization, we observe a still-visible Etruscan
19 Rebuffat 1980.
20 Polyb. 1.88.8–12, transl. by E. Shuckburgh (1889).

presence. Etruscan was still spoken in Alaliè in the third century, as may be seen on
thirteen graffiti datable to between 300 and 275 BCE.21 The name of a Roman woman—
Titula—has been discovered in one graffito at the center of a highly important fune-
real deposit. Although it has Latin origins, it still used the Etruscan alphabet. Later,
between 275 and 250 BCE, the name Klutius appears, more testimony of a person of
rank from the gens Claudia, even if the spelling of the name seems hesitating and
is probably connected with the Etruscan writing of the Latin name. In the burials,
items from Latium, Campania, and the region of Tarentum have been found. Evolv-
ing international relations were deeply felt. The Punic presence got stronger, based
on the Sicilian coins from between 344 and 280 BCE that have been found, and with
imports from Iberia. At that time even eulogies evolved, and rites as well as ornamen-
tal themes of the pieces of furnishings changed. Furthermore, the last tombs were dug
during the second half of the third century, when Corsica was at war and Alaliè had
become the anchoring-ground of the Roman conquest. Consequently, the end of the
Etruscan era in Kurnos dates to between 280 and 260 BCE.
To conclude, it is useful to provide an excerpt of book 5 of Diodorus of Sicily’s His-
torical Library, which appears to be the clearest synthesis of the different moments the
Etruscans and the Corsicans knew during the six centuries of their common history.
“After Aethaleia there is an island, some three hundred stades distant, which is
called Cyrnus by the Greeks, but Corsica by the Romans and those who dwell upon
it. This island, being easy to land on, has a most excellent harbour which is called
Syracosium. There are also on it two notable cities, the one being known as Calaris
and the other as Nicaea. Calaris was founded by Phocaeans, who made their home
there for a time and were then driven out of the island by Tyrrhenians; but Nicaea
was founded by Tyrrhenians at the time they were masters of the sea and were taking
possession of the islands lying off Tyrrhenia. They were lords of the cities of Cyrnus
for a considerable period and exacted tribute of the inhabitants in the form of resin,
wax, and honey, since these things were found in the island in abundance. Slaves
from Cyrnus are reputed to be superior to all others for every service which the life of
man demands, nature herself giving them this characteristic. And the entire island,
which is of great extent, has mountainous land over much of its area, which is thickly
covered with continuous forests and traversed by small rivers.”22
All data concerning the history that is summarized in this chapter show the unin-
terrupted relationships between the Etruscans and the island of Corsica from the Iron
Age to the Middle Republican period.
21 Heurgon 1973.
22 Diod. Sic. 5.13.3, transl. by C.H. Oldfather (1939).

84 Corsica 1651
References
Arrighi J.-M. and O. Jehasse 2008. Histoire de la Corse et des Corses. Paris: Perrin.
Bernardini, P., P.G. Spanu, R. Zucca eds. 2000. La battaglia del Mare Sardonio. Studi e ricerche.
Cagliari, Oristano: La memoria storica.
Colonna, G. 2010. “A proposito del primo trattato romano-cartaginese (e della donazione pyrgense
ad Astarte).” AnnMuseoFaina 17: 275–303.
Cristofani, M. 1993. “Il testo di Pech-Maho, Aleria e i traffici del V secolo a.C.” MEFRA 105: 833–845.
Heurgon, J. 1973. “Les graffites d’Aleria.” In J. Jehasse, L. Jehasse, La nécropole préromaine d’Aléria,
Appendice 1, 547–576. Paris: CNRS.
Jehasse, O. 1986a. “Art et religion de la Corse préhistorique.” Archeologia Corsa 10–11: 55–58.
—. 1986b. “Nouveaux éléments sur les fibules de Corse.” Archeologia Corsa 10–11: 59–63.
—. 2003. Corsica Classica. La Corse dans les textes anciens. Ajaccio: La Marge.
Jehasse, J. and L. Jehasse 1971. “La Corse antique. Grecs, Étrusques et Puniques.” In Histoire de la
Corse, edited by P. Arrighi, 67–96. Toulouse: Privat.
—. 1973. La nécropole préromaine d’Aléria. Paris: CNRS.
—. 2001. Aléria. Nouvelles données de la nécropole, Travaux de la Maison de l’Orient 34. Lyon-Corte:
Maison de l’Orient Méditerranéen.
—. 2004. Aleria metropole. Les remparts préromains et l’urbanisation romaine. Ajaccio: édition du
journal de la Corse.
Rebuffat, D. 1980. “Les miroirs de bronze.” Archeologia Corsa 5: 52–87.

85 Sicily
Abstract: Geographic location is undoubtedly one of the elements that most affects a region’s history.
The central position and triangular shape of Sicily projected into the Mediterranean in such a way as
to facilitate different contacts with the ethnic groups that populated it. For example, the northwestern
point (the Phoenician-Punic hub of the Island) was naturally involved in the maritime routes between
the Tyrrhenian world and northern Africa, and in the same way, the Aeolian archipelago was of crucial
importance for the control over the lower Tyrrhenian Sea and transit towards the straight of Messina.
Contacts between the indigenous populations of Sicily (Sicani, Siculi, Elymi) and the Tyrrhenian
part of the Italian mainland date back to the Proto-historic period, but they increased in frequency
and changed in nature from the eighth century BCE, after the foundation of the Greek and Phoenician
colonies on the island’s coasts.
Keywords: Sicani, Siculi, Elymi, Greeks, trade
Introduction
Geographic location is undoubtedly one of the elements that most affects a region’s
history. The central position and triangular shape of Sicily (Fig. 85.1) projected into
the Mediterranean in such a way as to facilitate different contacts with the ethnic
groups that populated it. For example, the northwestern point (the Phoenician-Punic
hub of the Island) was naturally involved in the maritime routes between the Tyrrhe-
nian world and northern Africa, and in the same way, the Aeolian archipelago was of
crucial importance for the control over the lower Tyrrhenian Sea and transit towards
the straight of Messina.
Contacts between the indigenous populations of Sicily (Sicani, Siculi, Elymi) and
the Tyrrhenian part of the Italian mainland date back to the Proto-historic period, but
they increased in frequency and changed in nature from the eighth century BCE, after
the foundation of the Greek and Phoenician colonies on the island’s coasts.
1 The literary and epigraphic sources

The key position of the Aeolian (Lipari) Islands allows us to understand why several
conflicts between the Greeks and Etruscans crystallized around them, in a compli-
cated relationship that is referred to in the historical sources (Diod. Sic. 5.9.4–5; Strabo
I warmly thank the Direction of the Archaeological Museum at Syracuse for granting me permission
to catalogue the vase from tomb 309 of the Fusco necropolis, and Alessandro Naso for his precious
suggestions. Italian text has been translated by Michael Metcalfe.
1654 Rosa Maria Albanese Procelli
Fig. 85.1: Sicily. Map of the sites cited in the text. 1. Caltabellotta. 2. Caltagirone. 3. Camarina.
4. Colle Madore. 5. Helorus. 6. Gela. 7. Giarratana. 8. Grammichele. 9. Himera. 10. Lentini. 11. Lipari.
12. Marsala. 13. Megara Hyblaea. 14. Mendolito di Adrano. 15. Messina-Zancle. 16. Milazzo.
17. Mineo. 18. Montagna di Marzo. 19. Monte Bubbonìa. 20. Monte Chibbò. 21. Monte Iato. 22. Monte
San Mauro. 23. Morgantina. 24. Motya. 25. Mura Pregne. 26. Naxos. 27. Palermo. 28. Pantalica.
29. Paternò. 30. Poggioreale. 31. Polizzello. 32. Punta Braccetto. 33. Ramacca. 34. Sabucina.
35. Selinunte. 36. Syracuse. 37. Sòlanto. 38. Terravecchia di Cuti. 39. Ustica
6.2.10; Paus. 10.11.3–4; 16.7; Callim., fr. 93) and is also reflected in the mythological
legend of the brothers Tyrrhenus and Liparus, who became mutual enemies (Serv.,
ad Aen. 1.52).
One of the most debated problems for the eighth century is the historical reliabil-
ity of the well known passage of Ephorus (in Strabo 6.2.2), which mentions the pres-
ence of Tyrrhenian pirates in the waters off Sicily’s east coast prior to the foundation
of the Greek colonies.
Although the connection between Etruscans and piracy is a leitmotif of official
propaganda in Greek historiography, it probably masks the reality. It is known that
piracy in the Archaic period had a double value: one, political-military, which related

85 Sicily 1655
Fig. 85.2: Types of bucchero vases from Sicily: a–b. Kantharos and
chalice (Megara Hyblaea, after Gras 1985, figs. 78, 72, no. 695)
to organized forms of naval control in strategic areas; and the other, economic, as an
activity connected to commercial transactions.
In the Tyrrhenian area the situation radically changed at the beginning of the fifth
century, when Hieron, the tyrant of Syracuse, defeated the Etruscans in the waters
off Cumae (Diod. Sic. 11.51; Pin. Pyth. 1.140), a battle archaeologically attested by the
inscribed Etruscan helms which were dedicated by Hieron in Olympia (Fig. 87.2). The
Syracusan fleet reached Etruria during the course of the fifth and fourth centuries,
focusing on the mineral rich Etruscan coastal area of Elba.1
The Latin inscriptions on marble tables at Tarquinia, dedicated to members of
the Spurinna family in the first century CE who were known as “Elogia Tarquinien-
sia,” represent an important late Etruscan source. Among them, the one that refers to
Velthur Spurinna appears to be especially important because it has been interpreted

as a reference to the captain of the small Etruscan fleet that was sent in 413 BCE as
allies of Athens against the common enemy Syracuse (Thuc. 6.88.6).2
2 The relationship between Sicily

and the Tyrrhenian Sea
The interrelations in the Tyrrhenian Sea in the Archaic period are extremely compli-
cated due to the ethnic diversity of the actors involved—Levantines, Greeks, Etrus-
cans, Italics and Nuraghics. The recent growth of archeological documentation and
new historical and methodological research has led to a better understanding of the
exchange relationships, and has reminded us to be more cautious when attempt-
ing “global” interpretations. On the one hand, the interpretative fragility of modern
notions—such as “Greek commerce,” “Phoenician commerce,” and “Etruscan com-
merce”—has been acknowledged, especially when considered in isolation. On the
other, the complex nature of ancient trade—which was often conducted through mul-
tiple mediations, along long-distance routes that were followed with numerous calls
along the way, in which “goods” were loaded and unloaded—has been clarified.3
The latter conclusion is supported by the shipwrecks, the cargoes of which are
often characterized by products of different origins and areas of production. In the
case of Sicily, the archaic shipwreck of Gela I, which dates to the first quarter of the
fifth century, is paradigmatic.4
The legendary episode of Demaratus of Corinth, who moved to Tarquina, is exem-
plary of the commercial practices of the seventh century. According to Dionysius of
Halicarnassus (Ant.Rom. 3.46.3), Demaratus carried out his trade in western waters,
“transporting Greek goods amongst the Tyrrhenians and Tyrrhenian goods amongst
the Greeks.”
The history of the contacts and exchanges between Sicily and the middle-Tyrrhe-
nian area, where the important Tuscan-Latian mining district is located, predates the
Archaic period. The possible trade of raw or semi-worked metals (witnessed by the
ingots of copper and lead found in the shipwreck off the island of Giglio, which dates
to the beginning of the sixth century) is indirectly documented in Sicily for the first
half of the eighth century by the import of finished products from central Italy (axes
from the hoards at Polizzello, Monte San Mauro and Pantalica).5
2 Torelli 1981, 203, 222. See chapter 38 Torelli (Fig. 38.13).

3 Gras 1985; 1997; 2000.
4 Panvini 2001.
5 Albanese Procelli 1993, 80, 233.

85 Sicily 1657
Ethnic mobility between Tyrrhenian Italy and Sicily was a complex phenomenon
in the proto-historic and Archaic periods. It is important to remember that the ethnic
identity of an individual is not easily discernable from an archaeological point of view.
In this regard, some hints could derive from the rare sanguisuga and navicella fibulae
of Italic type, which belong to the eighth and seventh centuries, and were found in
Sicily at Giarratana, Megara Hyblaea, Mendolito, Milazzo, Mineo-Tre Portelle, Motya,
Pantalica, Paternò, Syracuse, as they are typical of certain clothing styles (especially
female).6
The indications contained in the epigraphic documentation, albeit few in
number, are more secure. Two persons with Etruscan names—Romis, son of Kailios,
and a woman named Turranà—are mentioned at the beginning of the fifth century
on two lead sheets found at the sanctuary of the Malophoros at Selinunte. Each has
a different social status and their presence is not surprising in a colony where Etrus-
can imports are documented from the seventh century. A Greek funerary inscription
dating to the end of the sixth century, perhaps from Selinunte itself, has been read as
follows: “I am Latinos. I am the son of Rheginos.”7
3 The fine ware and the transport amphorae

The earliest imports of Etruscan pottery in eastern Sicily are attested in the first half of
the seventh century. They are dishes with a sub-geometric decoration, also known as
“ad aironi,” which were first produced in Caere in the first half of the seventh century
BC, and have been found in Gela, Helorus and Syracuse (Fig. 50.8).8 From the last
quarter of the seventh century, a qualitative and quantitative growth in materials of
Etruscan production in Sicily occurs, which includes not only fine table ware but also
transport amphorae. Besides Caere, Vulci also assumes a primary role in this com-
mercial trade.
Among the earliest pottery in bucchero it is worth mentioning two kantharoi with
incised decoration from the settlement of Megara Hyblaea and from the sacred area of
Naxos, linkable to fabrics from the area of Veii-Caere that are datable to 640/30. The
bucchero vases with incised fans, dated to the seventh century and reported at the
colonial sites of the eastern coast of Sicily (Leontini, Megara Hyblaea, Messina) and
at Himera (linked with the commercial traffic between Etruria and northern Africa),
could also come from the area of Caere, even if it is not possible to exclude other
southern Etrurian centers of productions, such as Vulci.
6 Gras 1985, 484–86; Lo Schiavo 2010, 275, 342, 480–81, 490, types 125, 157C, 215, 217, 227.
7 Nenci 1999.
8 Pelagatti and Voza 1973, 120, n. 382; Voza 1999, 37, figs. 8–9.

The systematic analysis of the bucchero imports of a colony such as Megara

Hyblaea has demonstrated that an extensively excavated settlement provides differ-
ent shapes of vases (kylikes, chalices, olpai, oinochoai) and not only kantharoi, which
are mainly attested in funerary contexts (Fig. 85.2a–b).9
It is between the end of the seventh and the first half of the sixth century that
the bucchero kantharos of transitional type (Rasmussen type 3e) becomes the pre-
ferred product among imports of fine table ware.10 It constitutes a real fossil-type of
Etruscan commerce in the Mediterranean in this period (Fig. 49.2). It is a standardized
shape, for which it is difficult to identify production centers without the aid of petro-
graphic analyses.
In Sicily, the distribution of kantharoi of this type is prevalent in the Greek colo-
nies and sub-colonies (Camarina, Helorus, Gela, Himera, Leontini, Lipari, Messina,
Megara Hyblaea, Naxos, Selinunte, Syracuse). Only a few specimens are known in
Punic sites (Marsala, Motya, Palermo, Solunto). Their presence in indigenous centers
is also seemingly scarce (Colle Madore, Monte Castellazzo di Poggioreale, Monte Iato,
Monte San Mauro, Ramacca).
The Greeks from the colonies used this type of kantharoi mainly in funerary cere-
monies, and thus the majority of the specimens found in Sicily were actually retrieved
from funerary contexts. More than ninety kantharoi are known from the necropolises
of Syracuse, where some tombs (Fusco 24, 372; Giardino Spagna 1, 44) provided four
or five specimens. Tomb 551 from the Fusco necropolis stands out in terms of the
quality and quantity of vases in the burial assemblage, which comprises twenty buc-
chero kantharoi, and also for the treatment of the body of the deceased, the ashes of
which were deposited within a bronze cauldron.
The burial assemblage also attests a few exceptional shapes. Tomb 309 from the
Fusco necropolis provided a miniature kyathos of the Rasmussen type 1e, isolated
specimens of which have also been found at Lipari and Megara Hyblaea. The necropo-
lises of Gela, Megara Hyblaea and Syracuse provided a few giant kantharoi (Rasmus-
sen type 3d), which in Etruria are attested in the area of Vulci and Caere. The grey
fabric and the morphology of one of the two specimens from Gela allows to hypoth-
esize a local production.11
Bucchero vases have also been used as offerings in sacred places. They are gener-
ally kantharoi, as at Gela, Megara Hyblaea, Syracuse, Selinunte, but in a few cases
are also chalices and kyathoi, as in the sanctuary of the Malophoros at Selinunte.
Recently, a votive graffito of the sixth century was identified on the wall of a chalice
9 Gras 1985, 530–582.

10 Rasmussen 1979.
11 Naso 2009, 139, with bibl. For the distribution of bucchero in Sicily in general: Gras 1985, 490 ss.;
von Hase 1989; Albanese Procelli 2005; Naso 2009.

85 Sicily 1659
from a votive deposit of the sanctuary of contrada Alaimo at Leontini.12 It is a bou-

strophedon inscription in three lines written in the Euboic alphabet, which was used
locally. The choice of a bucchero vase and the status of the person who dedicated
it—an echseleutheros (it. “liberto”) named Leukios (a Greek name that is close to one
of the most common Oscan forenames)—could suggest an Italic origin.13
Another Greek graffito (Menonda, genitive of the Doric name Menondas), was
noted on a bucchero kantharos from Selinunte, which can be dated no later than the
first half of the sixth century.14
The predominance of the kantharos among the imports is due to the fact that it
was the drinking vase par excellence, and thus complementary to the Etruscan wine
amphorae that were produced in southern Etruria from the last quarter of the seventh
century, which were also exported to Sicily, probably in a similar circuit of exchange
as the bucchero.
The identification of the production centers of transport amphorae in southern
Etruria and in the Etruscan areas of Campania is problematic. Some fabrics have
been located in Vulci and Caere. More specifically, Vulci seems to have produced both
flat-bottomed (Gras EMA/Py1–2 types) and pointed-bottomed amphorae (Gras EMC/
Py 3A–B types) (Fig. 10.2), while Caere seems to have produced amphorae only of
the latter type.15 These amphorae were generally used for wine, but the possibility of
other contents cannot be excluded, as indicated by the olives found within an Etrus-
can amphora of the Campese shipwreck off the island of Giglio, dated to 590/580.16
Etruscan amphorae are documented in Sicily between the last quarter of the
seventh century and the first half of the sixth century, concurrent with the distribu-
tion of the bucchero, and belong mainly to Gras EMA type (Camarina, Himera, Lipari,
Megara Hyblaea, Messina, Milazzo, Naxos, Selinunte) and Gras EMC type (Cama-
rina, Himera, Megara Hyblaea, Naxos, Selinunte) (Fig. 85.3a–b). These amphorae are
especially diffused in Vulci and its hinterland, and in Campania, where they were
imported or produced locally (Pithecusae). Etruscan amphorae are little known, until
now, in the Punic centers (Motya, Palermo) and in the indigenous sites of inner Sicily.
In the latter case, they are centers either occupied by Greeks, such as Monte S. Mauro,
or within the sphere of influence of the colonial areas, such as Colle Madore and Mura
Pregne with regard to Himera, and Ramacca with regard to Leontini, a situation that
coincides with the distribution of bucchero in the internal areas of the island.17
12 Rizza 2003, 546, fig. 7.

13 Brugnone 2009, 711, fig. 570.
14 Colonna 2004.
15 Gras 1985, 328 ss., fig. 46b; Py 1985.
16 Bound 1991.
17 Gras 1985, 333, with bibl. More recently: Lentini 1987; Vassallo 1999; Spagnolo 2002; Tigano 2002;
Albanese Procelli 2005.

a b
c d
Fig. 85.3: Types of transport amphorae. a–b. Himera, EMA and EMC types (after Vassallo 1999,
fig. 13: 48, 15: 57). c. Lipari, EMD type (after Cavalier 1985, fig. 13: 41). d. Ustica, fractional amphora
(after Albanese Procelli 2009, fig. 193)
After the first half of the sixth century, with the end of the export of bucchero,
the imports of Etruscan amphorae diminish notably, but do not cease. A few Etruscan
amphorae of the Gras EMD/Py 4 type (Fig. 85.3c), which were produced in Southern
Etruria and perhaps also in Campania, reached Camarina, Himera, Colle Madore and
Lipari in the fifth century.18
A fractional Etruscan amphora from Ustica (height cm 35), close to the EMA group
of Michel Gras, was found in the waters off Punta Galéra (Fig. 85.3d).19 Similar ampho-
18 Cavalier 1985, 55, fig. 13a; Salibra 1999, pl. VI, figs. 2–3; Vassallo 1999, 358, with bibl.
19 Albanese Procelli 2009, fig. 193.

85 Sicily 1661
rae, of about 10 liters, are attested in Campania in several contexts, dated to between
the beginning and the first half of the sixth century.20
The imports of Etruscan transport amphorae in Sicily represent a minor percent-
age within the circulation of amphorae in the Archaic period. In Messina, for example,
in the second half of the sixth and the beginning of the fifth century, the sample of
transport amphorae from insula S reveals a predominance of amphorae produced in
Magna Graecia and only four Etruscan amphorae.21 That the circulation of Etruscan
wine was minor in comparison with Greek wine is confirmed by the data from the
necropolises of the Greek colonies of the sixth century. Etruscan amphorae, reused
for infant depositions, represent about four percent of the total at Camarina, and six
percent at Himera. It is not surprising that over thirty Etruscan amphorae22 have been
found in the latter colony, which is in the orbit of the lower Tyrrhenian sea, a number
that exceeds the group identified at Camarina (twenty-five specimens), in which it
was possible to discern fabrics produced in southern Etruria and Campania.23
The presence of a single Etruscan amphora (Gras EMC/Py 3B type) among
twenty-one Greek amphorae attested in the cargo of the shipwreck of Punta Braccetto
(Ragusa), of the first half of the sixth century,24 might suggest that the traffic was
controlled by the Greeks.
4 Bronze vases
A progressive growth in the import of bronze vases, which were produced in Greece,
in Southern Italy (Magna Graecia) and in Etruria, is also recorded in Sicily in the
Archaic period together with isolated products from the north-Italic area. Their distri-
bution, between the eighth and seventh centuries, is concentrated in the Greek colo-
nies, where bronze vases were used in the funerary sphere as cinerary urns, and more
rarely as part of the burial assemblage. From the sixth century onwards, these imports
began to spread also in the island’s internal centers, where they were mainly used
as components of the burial assemblage, representing one of the privileged ways of
expressing prestige and display on behalf of the acculturated indigenous elite.
Regarding the colonies, the series of bronze lebetes attested in the burials at Syra-
cuse from the end of the eighth/beginning of the seventh centuries to the end of the
sixth century, indicates that the embossed rim basins and a few dinoi, distinguishable
from the Greek ones on the basis of their production technique, were produced in
20 Albore Livadie 1985, 129, 144, fig. 29, 6.

21 Spagnolo 2002, 40, 45.
22 Vassallo 1999, 358.
23 Pelagatti 1978; Sourisseau 2011.
24 Di Stefano 1993–94.

Fig. 85.4: Sabucina: Bronze embossed rim basin (drawing by R. M. Albanese)
the Etruscan area. The analysis of the contexts is crucial for a better understanding
of the provenance areas, such as in the case of tomb Isonzo 4 at Syracuse, where an
embossed rim basin was used as a lid for a dinos that shows the typical features of
Etruscan production, leading us to suppose a common area of production.25
As far as the distribution of embossed rim basins, which are part of a feasting
set of vases destined for the consumption of meat and wine26, Sicily shows a pecu-
liar behavior that is different from that of other Mediterranean regions and also from
that of southern Italy, probably due to selective requests from the relevant communi-
ties. These differences are also perceivable through the local reuse of this class of
vase, as it occurs in Sicily with a specimen of the Pürgen type from tomb Ovest 120
at Sabucina (end of the sixth/first quarter of the fifth cent.), which was transformed
into a low tripod through the addition of lead feet (Fig. 85.4). With a few exceptions,
the basins retrieved from Sicilian funerary contexts that date to between the end of
the eighth/beginning of the seventh and the first half of the fifth centuries have great
dimensions. The types with omphalic bottom and a double row of knobs on the rim
(Tarquinia type), dated to the end of the seventh/first half of the sixth centuries, and
attested on the Italian mainland and in Europe, are absent.
The majority of the forty-two embossed rim basins so far known from Sicily come
from Greek colonies (Gela, Megara Hyblaea, Selinunte, Syracuse). In the necropolises
of the latter colony they were used throughout the seventh century until the second
quarter of the sixth century, a picture that coincides with the period of the greatest attes-
tation of Etruscan imports in eastern Sicily. From the last quarter of the sixth century,
distribution is concentrated in the internal centers of central Sicily (Caltagirone, Mon-
tagna di Marzo, Monte Chibbò, Mineo, Morgantina, Sabucina, Terravecchia di Cuti).
They were apparently coveted by the indigenous acculturated elite, who cel-
ebrated their social prestige in feasting ceremonies inspired by Greek models. At
25 Albanese Procelli 1979, 1, 10, fig. 1–3; Gras 1985, 506.

26 Albanese Procelli 1979; 1985; 2006; Gras 1985, 501–8; Krausse 1996.

85 Sicily 1663
Fig. 85.5: Caltabellotta: bronze “Rhodian” oinochoe

(after Panvini 1986–87, pl. XXX)
Sabucina, three specimens attested in tombs of the last quarter of the sixth century
indicate that they belong to sets of bronze vases of various fabrics. An embossed rim
basin, bearing the inscription of the name of an indigenous woman, Dyspseta, was
used in a tomb from the beginning of the fifth century.27
In contrast to mainland Italy, the “Rhodian” oinochoai—which were usually pro-
duced between the last quarter of the seventh/beginning of the sixth century—are so
far documented in Sicily by a single specimen from Caltabellotta (Fig. 85.5), which
probably arrived via the nearby colony of Selinunte.28 Retrieved from a dwelling from
the second half of the sixth century, later than the production date, it can be ascribed
to group B of Shefton’s classification, which has been linked to Tarquinia.29
Vases produced in northern Italy or Europe rarely reached Sicily, and only
between the second half of the sixth and beginning of the fifth centuries, through
the mediation of the Italian mainland. A situla from Leontini, the only one of its kind
found in Sicily, was used as a cinerary urn and probably arrived via the Tyrrhenian
area (Fig. 85.6). It can be related to the situlae of the Rhine-Ticino group, which are
attributed to ateliers located in the area of Golasecca, between Lombardy and Pied-
mont, in periods IIB–IIIA.30
The ciste a cordoni (Ger. Rippenzisten) are also of northern Italian and central-
European production. Only two specimens are known in Sicily at Terravecchia di
Grammichele and at Civita di Paternò, in the province of Catania (Fig. 85.7). Both
27 Orlandini 1963, 86, pl. XXIV, 2; Dubois 1989, 198, n. 172; Albanese Procelli 2001, 292.
28 Panvini 1986–87, pl. XXX.
29 Rolley 1988, 94–97.
30 Orsi 1912; de Marinis 1997, 34.

Fig. 85.6: Lentini: bronze situla (drawing by R. M. Albanese)
feature mobile handles, and belong to B. Stjernquist’s so-called “standard” group,

the production of which began after the beginning of the second half of the sixth
century.31
The complexity of circulation and of the possible intermediates increases in the
late Archaic period, when sets of bronze vases and tools for the symposium and the
paideia—which comprised products of different ateliers (Greek, Magna-Graecian and
Etruscan)—are deposited in the burial assemblage of tombs of emerging groups in
indigenous centres of Sicily.32
Clear evidence of the modality of circulation of bronze instrumenta for the sym-
posium is provided by the retrieval of the handle of an infundibulum with a lyre ter-
mination datable to the late second half of the sixth century from the shipwreck of
Gela I, which sank around 480. The lack of materials from the Tyrrhenian area in
this shipwreck, and the presence of a similar infundibulum at San Martino in Gattara
(Ravenna) in Romagna, suggests that the specimen was acquired through the medi-
ation of the Adriatic area, especially if we take into consideration the ship’s route,
which, after Greece, probably reached the Ionian coasts of southern Italy and Sicily.
The circulation of similar symposium implements in the hinterland of Gela is doc-
umented in the indigenous site of Monte Bubbonia (Caltanissetta) by two specimens,
one of which seems to be of local production (Fig. 88.5). 33
31 Stjernquist 1967, 88–89; Lamagna 2005; Albanese Procelli 2010, with bibl.
32 De Miro 2006.
33 Naso 2006, 252–53, 275, nos. 63–65, with bibl. A bronze lion from Megara Hyblaea, perhaps locally
made (Gras, Tréziny and Broise 2004, p. 129, fig. 135) and another from Selinunte, unpublished
(courtesy of H. Baitinger) might belong to hinges of infundibula.

85 Sicily 1665
Fig. 85.7: Civita di Paternò: Bronze cista a cordoni (after Lamagna 2005, 104)
The Etruscan products clearly document an archaeologically “invisible” commerce,

which was reciprocated with Sicilian products, such as food-stuffs—cereals, in par-
ticular. It is not by chance that Demeter appears among the cults of the sanctuary at
Gravisca.34
Between the second half of the sixth and the beginning of the fifth centuries,
new phenomena arise in the cities of the Tyrrhenian area of Sicily, which refer to
architectural coroplastics, a sector of artistic production that was destined for public
buildings. A series of antefixes at Himera and Lipari is linkable to examples elabo-
rated in the Tyrrhenian area, from Campania to Etruria, and allows us to hypothesize
a circulation not only of molds but also of artisans.35
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Marco Rendeli
86 Sardinia
Abstract: “The island of the silver veins” Argyróphleps nésos, is the name by which Sardinia was
known in antiquity: the name underlines its richness in ores and metals (silver, copper, iron) and the
fertility of its land. Since 1600 BCE it was interested by Nuragic civilization: more than 8.000 nuraghi
and 900 giant’s tombs were built in about half a millennium.
As an island in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea, Sardinia was a center of contacts and
exchanges: since 16th century many merchants arrived on the island and engaged local people. The
general crisis connected with the end of the Bronze Age in the Oriental part of the Mediterranean area
created a blackout. By the end of the 12th century BCE new people, from the Levantine coasts, began
again to trade with the Greek world: Philistines, Cypriot, North Syrian sailed in the Mediterranean Sea
looking for metals, mainly silver.
By mid ninth century BCE the relationships between Levantine and Greek merchants and Sar-
dinia became more and more intense: around 770–750 Sulki was founded by the Tirians and since
then began a long phase of colonization. During this period the island played an important role in the
Western Mediterranean for its richness and vitality.
The subject of the Villanovan and Etruscan finds in Sardinia needs of an interpretative premise
on the different layers of presence as the pioneering studies demonstrate.
The layers are different because they mirror different economic patterns, ways of making trade,
organization of local communities. For the Villanovan phase (925–730) the reciprocity of exchanges
seems to advantage Sardinia for the quantity of objects found along the Tyrrhenian shores, mostly in the
northern part of the island. During the Orientalizing and Archaic phases (730–480) the picture radically
changes given the presence of Phoenician colonies which were the responsible of the trade with Etruria.
Taking this in account, some doubts arise on the direct participation of the Etruscans, with
their ships coming from coastal cities, to the emporic phenomenon that begun after the mid seventh
century BCE.
Keywords: trade, silver, transport amphorae, bucchero, Etrusco-Corinthian pottery
1 Introduction
“The island of the silver veins” Argyróphleps nésos, is the name by which Sardinia
was known in antiquity: the name underlines its richness in ores and metals (silver,
copper, iron) and the fertility of its land. Since 1600 it was interested by Nuragic civi-
lization: more than 8.000 nuraghi and 900 giant’s tombs were built in about half a
millennium.
As an island in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea, Sardinia was a center of
contacts and exchanges: since 16th century many merchants arrived on the island
and engaged local people. The general crisis connected with the end of the Bronze
Age in the Oriental part of the Mediterranean area created a blackout. By the end of
the 12th century BCE new people, from the Levantine coasts, began again to trade
with the Greek world: Philistines, Cypriot, North Syrian sailed in the Mediterranean
Sea looking for metals, mainly silver.
1670 Marco Rendeli
Fig. 86.1: Sardinia. Map of the main sites cited in the text

86 Sardinia 1671
By mid ninth century BCE the relationships between Levantine and Greek merchants
and Sardinia became more and more intense: around 770–750 Sulki was founded by
the Tyrians and since then began a long phase of colonization. During this period the
island played an important role in the Western Mediterranean for its richness and
vitality (Fig. 86.1).
The subject of the Villanovan and Etruscan finds in Sardinia needs of an interpre-
tative premise on the different layers of presence as the pioneering studies by Fran-
cesco Nicosia and Fulvia Lo Schiavo for Iron Age, Giovanni Ugas, Raimondo Zucca
and Carlo Tronchetti demonstrate.
The layers are different because they mirror different economic patterns, ways of
making trade, organization of local communities. For the Villanovan phase (925–730)
the reciprocity of exchanges seems to advantage Sardinia for the quantity of objects
found along the Tyrrhenian shores, mostly in the northern part of the island. During
the Orientalizing and Archaic phases (730–480) the picture radically changes given
the presence of Phoenician colonies which were the responsible of the trade with
Etruria.
Taking this in account, some doubts arise on the direct participation of the Etrus-
cans, with their ships coming from coastal cities, to the emporic phenomenon that
begun after the mid seventh century.
2 The Iron Age (1000–700)

There are not many signs of Villanovan presence in Sardinia and those that do exist
amount to bronze objects: as a recent exposition at Villanovaforru has demon-
strated1, single pieces or small groupings of items are found scattered in the northern
and central part of island. The distribution of finds refers to settlements and sacred
areas: they testify the mode of contact with coastal Northern Etruria and redistribu-
tion toward the internal districts.
The contexts are referred to settlements and sanctuaries with a wide redistribu-
tion in the internal areas showing social complexity by the groups involved. We can
thus understand and interpret the discovery of Etruscan bronzes, as well as the Levan-
tine and Greek ones, in the “federal sanctuaries” of Matzanni, in the Sulcis area, of
Santa Vittoria at Serri, Santa Cristina at Paulilatino, Su Romanzesu at Bitti, Sa Sedda
’e sos Carros at Oliena, Sant’Antonio at Siligo, Serra Niedda at Sorso.
The development all over the island of these sanctuaries, which are interpreted as
the result of inter cantonal agreements, demonstrates the multiplicity and complexity
of these “political” organizations since the Final Bronze Age.
1 Lo Schiavo, Milletti, Falchi 2008.

1672 Marco Rendeli
The Etruscan bronze artifacts, as well as for the Levantine ones, represent the
ending point of a circulation of “sumptuary goods” among the elites of the Nuragic
societies: votive gifts testify the rich and complex relationships between the two Tyr-
rhenian shores. Levantine or Greek merchants acted as go-betweens but we cannot
exclude a direct form of exchange between Villanovans and Nuragic people.
It seems not fortuitous that a critical change has happened during the second half
of the ninth century when the Oriental marines had strong relations with some areas
of Western Sardinia, the Southern Nurra (Alghero), the Gulf of Oristano, the Sulcis
area. By now they begun a trade network which encompasses at different levels all
the Mediterranean area with a strong presence of the Levantine (Tyrian) and Greek
(Euboic and Athenians) marines.
In this part of the Mediterranean area the organization of trade depended on
its dimension: pan Mediterranean, inter regional, regional or internal. These levels
were interconnected, as Susan and Andrew Sherrat have presented in an important
contribution, or more recently as Maria Eugenia Aubet proposed for the relationships
between the Near East and the western Mediterranean2.
For the pan Mediterranean level the Levantine marines, Tyre in primis, have had
a guiding role since the ninth century. In this organization the role of Sardinia is
central, for its geographic position and for the strength of local communities, in the
Sulcis district, in the Northern part of the Gulf of Oristano and in Alghero area. Here
the site of Sant’Imbenia seems to have had a leading and central role in a “political”
organization of a wider territory: in a first phase the interlocutors are coming exclu-
sively from the Levantine area and Greece. Since the mid eighth century BCE they
change, being predominant the relations with western Mediterranean colonies (Sulki,
Carthage, Gadir and Southern Spain, Pithekoussai and Cumae), as the direct heirs of
trade and commerce of the first phase. At the same time, the diffusion of Sardinian
vessels in the Western and Central Mediterranean area can be explained in the light
of long distance and interregional trade.
3 Orientalizing and archaic periods (730–500)

The organization of Phoenician colonies developed by Tyre in the Western Mediter-
ranean area, has had in Sardinia its main settlement in Sulki. This site was part of
the long distance network and then assumed a leading role in the creation of inter
regional and regional circuits. On the other shore of the Tyrrhenian Sea, after a first
phase of Euboic presence, since the end of the eighth century BCE the overwhelm-
ing Corinthian penetration, with its colonies in Sicily and Southern Italy, radically
2 Sherrat and Sherrat 1993; Aubet 2008.

86 Sardinia 1673
changed the trade relations between Phoenicians and Greeks. Following S. and A.
Sherrat, for the interregional trade the role played by the carriers was not very impor-
tant, nor the participation of a center to a circuit cannot be connected exclusively to a
Phoenician or East Greek vector3.
At a regional level the organization displayed by colonies was really important
in relation with the role played by local communities. In all the areas interested by
Phoenician colonies the “foreigners” were received and integrated in the local politi-
cal system which gave the goods for the regional and interregional trade.
In this phase the Corinthian trade can be compared with the Phoenician one
which was older, more structured and dedicated to the emporìa. Michel Gras thought
that the emporic trade has cancelled the “Etruscan, Ionic, Corinthian or Laconic
trade” in order to create new streams and circuits in which many centers, local and
colonial, participate4. This implies the end of an exclusive relation between the mer-
chant and buyers as it was in the preceding phase of the “gift-trade”.
Looking at the diffusions and distribution of amphorae and of fine wares, which
constitute the accompany goods to the commercial transactions, we can try to recon-
struct these trade streams in Central and Western Mediterranean area (Tyrrhenian,
Carthaginian, Iberic, and Southern France).
In this framework the presence of Etruscan vessels in Sardinia covered a phase
from the mid seventh to the end of the sixth century. This coincides with a mature
organization of the Etruscan cities states that has been played an important role in
the emporia. Since the Middle Orientalizing period bucchero and Etrusco-Corinthian
pottery, produced in Southern Etruria, have been found in Sardinia. During this phase
(650–30/500–470) the vessels arrived in Sardinia are connected with the consumption
of wine (to pour, amphorae, oinochoai and olpai; to drink, cups, chalices, kyathoi,
kantharoi and skyphoi) with some exceptions for shapes for eating (Etrusco-Corin-
thian plates) and seldom for oil (standardized productions of aryballoi and alabastra
in Etrusco-Corinthian ware). The Etruscan transport amphorae are very few (less than
ten), attested in urban contexts or from the sea.
In this picture, dominated by the small shapes for consumption of wine, both in
bucchero and Etrusco-Corinthian pottery, the Phoenician colonies of southern and
central Sardinia had an almost exclusive role in the importation. These vessels are
attested both in the colonies and in the internal districts, in Sardinian settlements.
Very few finds from colonial centers are researched and edited on these phases
(Sulcis, Monte Sirai, Nora, Bitia), even less are the Sardinian sites in which this phase
can be recognized. We expect quick transformations, as it emerges from the PhD dis-
sertation by Stefano Santocchini Gerg in comparison with the pioneering researches
3 Sherrat and Sherrat 1993.

4 Gras 2000.

1674 Marco Rendeli
by G. Ugas and R. Zucca, or the Trafics tyrrhéniens archaïques by M. Gras, the I Sardi
by C. Tronchetti and many papers by F. Nicosia and Paolo Bernardini5.
Today the quantity and quality of finds coming from settlement contexts is huge
with a wide morphological attestation in comparison with the old discoveries carried
out in necropoleis.
In his recent work, S. Santocchini Gerg demonstrates that more than 50% of
the Etruscan pottery found in Sardinia comes from settlements, while most of vases
which comes from necropoleis was discovered between 1850 and 1950.
New contexts excavated in urban areas, together with the increasing knowledge
on the pottery productions, both for the bucchero and the Etrusco-Corinthian ware,
have sensibly modified the interpretation: recent discoveries demonstrate that in
urban contexts pottery can be found from Caere, Tarquinia and Vulci as the Etrusco-
Corinthian fabrics show.
The Etruscan importations in Sardinia between 630 and 500 are part of those
“secondary composite burdens” assembled in the Etruscan cities and participating
to the emporic model as well interpreted by M. Gras. In the emporic model the prov-
enance of the carrier has a minor importance, using the ship to transport, sell and
buy goods in all the cities along the circuit. It will be not surprising if, in the phase
of maximum presence of Etruscan pottery in Sardinia, the carriers between the two
shores of the Tyrrhenian Sea could be both Phoenicians and Greeks, mainly Ionian
naukleroi.
The Greek phase of Olbia (630–500), according to Rubens D’Oriano on the basis
of the exclusive presence of Corinthian and Ionian pottery in the colony, is part of this
story: the total absence of Etruscan pottery from the excavations carried out under
the modern city are not an obstacle to the direct participation, with a leading role, of
Olbia in a Sardo-Tyrrhenian circuit.
The presence of Etruscan pottery in Sardinia is for the majority attested in the
Phoenician colonies, from Sarcapos to Tharros. The framework is incomplete because
data are missing from some important sites: Karales (Cagliari) is the main one.
Karales was part of the Sardinian circuit playing a leading role in Southern Sar-
dinia: it can be inferred by the rich presence of Etruscan importations in the Golfo
degli Angeli (at Cuccureddu di Villasimius), Nora and Bitia.
At Nora, recent excavations in the Roman Forum and on the Eastern Sanctuary
areas have brought into light a rich and articulated picture of Greek and Etruscan
importations during this phase. The publication of the old excavation in the Bitia
necropoli, the excavations carried out in the Cronicario at Sulcis, at Monte Sirai
and Nuraghe Sirai, the surveys and excavations in the emporikos kolpos (the Gulf of
5 Ugas and Zucca 1984; Gras 1985; Tronchetti 1988; Santocchini Gerg 2014; Bernardini 2001; Nicosia
1981.

86 Sardinia 1675
Oristano) at Tharros, Othoca and Neapolis have returned Etruscan wares which shed
a new light on the nature of the Etruscan presence.
The redistribution of Etruscan pottery reaches the internal districts of Sardinia:
if at Nora and Bitia this phenomenon is virtually absent, in other districts it seems
very active and testify intense relations between coastal centers (usually Phoenician
colonies) and the hinterland controlled by local communities.
In the Sulcis district the irradiation of Etruscan pottery suggests a Phoenician
interest for the territory organized with the “foundation” of satellites (Pani Loriga), the
occupation and “re-foundation” of old Nuragic settlements (Monte Sirai) or the par-
ticipation in a Sardinian settlement which maintained its urban planning (Nuraghe
Sirai). In this framework of Phoenician presence, in which Sulcis had a leading role,
the presence of Etruscan pottery is uniformly distributed both in settlements and
necropoleis. We cannot know if the imported pottery was property of the colonists
or, possibly, to the local elite to perform ceremonies of drinking. The bucchero and
Etrusco-Corinthian cups, the amphorae, oinochoai olpai and jugs could be seen as
exotica to local communities which have accepted and integrate, in the areas under
their control, the Oriental “foreigners”.
The structured form of collaboration between the Sardinian people and the Phoe-
nicians in the Sulcis district is an anomaly. Such a collaboration could be performed
also in the territory around Tharros and the relation with S’Uraki (San Vero Milis), Su
Monte (Sorradile), possibly S’Archittu (Cornus). In other Sardinian districts the phe-
nomenon is evident and we observe the penetration of Etruscan pottery in local, Sar-
dinian, areas. Some old “Nuragic” villages and sanctuaries in the Campidano of Ca-
gliari have attested some bucchero or Etrusco-Corinthian pottery, rarely some bronze
artifacts (Settimo San Pietro; San Sperate, Monte Olladiri, Monastir; M. Leonaxi,
Nuraminis; Santu Brai e Dom’e s’Abis, Furtei; Nuraghe Piscu, Suelli; Tuppedili, Vil-
lanovafranca; Santa Vittoria di Serri, Santa Anastasia, Sardara).
These sites share the basin of the Riu Mannu-Samassi: from its mouth, near Nea-
polis, it stretches some 50 km into the hinterland. This organization, as at Sulcis and
Tharros, suggests, even if with very few data, the extraordinary vitality of the inter-
nal local villages and their relations with the coastal colonial sites. This leads us to
believe that the Campidano di Cagliari, the Sulcis area and the Gulf of Oristano were
not agri deserti during the seventh and sixth centuries just taking in account only the
Etruscan and not the Phoenician or the Greek pottery.
Other Sardinian districts, which did not see Phoenician colonial settlements,
were involved in these circuits: the basin of the Temo river (Pozzomaggiore; Santu
Antine, Torralba; Monte Zuighe, Ittireddu) could be referred to a site at the mouth
of the river where today lays Bosa; the Nurra, in the Alghero area, (Nuraghe Flume-
nelongu, Alghero; Camposanto at Olmedo; Nuraghe Su Igante, Uri; and, perhaps,
Predda Niedda, Sorso) to the Nuragic village of Sant’Imbenia. The northern coastal
area in the Coghinas valley (Perfugas) has a possible reference to the mouth of the
river; the Nuraghe Albucciu (with a dubitative bronze situla) to the Greek Olbia; the

1676 Marco Rendeli
pottery sherds from Posada, from the Grotta Duas Vaccas (Siniscola), the presences in
the Nuoro area lay along the basin of the Posada River.
From the presence of Etruscan pottery all over Sardinia we know that the local
communities are socially and economically vital. In Northern Sardinia, where the
colonial phenomenon is absent, the uninterrupted relations between local political
structures and merchants can be interpreted as an interest of Phoenician and the
Greek marine for the trade in this part of the island.
From a local point of view there were many “peer polities” which have managed
the exchange and participate to the commercial circuits moving their surplus all over
the Western Mediterranean area. These “peer polities”, articulated in a urban or in
ethnic organization, present a well segmented society, have the control of their ter-
ritories, can construct solid relations with merchants.
The vases or bronzes found in sanctuaries all over the island testify the ending
chapter of a story begun with gift-trade, continued with the circulation of object in
local polities, ended with a votive offering by local élites in a sanctuary.
Pottery and metal objects witness the vivacity of local polities which is not limited
to the coastal areas but penetrate in the internal districts inhabited by Sardinian com-
munities. These are phenomena of long durée which began during the Early Iron Age
and continued until the end of the sixth century, when Carthage tried to impose its
dominion on a third of the island.
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Alessandro Naso
87 Greece, Aegean islands and Levant
Abstract: From the ninth to the fifth centuries BCE, Etruscan items, such as weapons and luxury
goods, are among the inventory found in Greek sanctuaries and reflect relations between Italy and
Greece. Because most of these votive offerings (Gk. anathēmata) are not inscribed, it must be pre-
sumed that they were dedicated both by Greeks returning home and by Etruscans who were admit-
ted to Greek sanctuaries. This possibility is raised by the two buildings, or treasuries (Gk. thesauroi),
that like several Greek cities, the Etruscan cities of Caere and Spina maintained in the sanctuary of
Apollo at Delphi to hold the offerings to the gods. This privilege of the inhabitants of Caere and Spina
is remarkable, because they were the only non-Greeks to have their own treasuries in the Delphic
sanctuary. Bucchero, the Etruscan national pottery, was also appreciated by the Greeks, who adopted
in their wine culture the shape of the most common Etruscan drinking cup, the kantharos. A few
Etruscan finds reached the Levant as well. After the fifth century, there are no Etruscan finds in Greek
contexts outside Italy.
Keywords: Etruscan, Greek, sanctuary, panhellenic, votive offering
Introduction
In contrast to the thousands of Greek artifacts found in Etruria, only a little over 400
Etruscan and Italic objects (about 270 of bronze, and 150 of clay and other materials)
have been found in the ancient Greek world—which includes modern-day Greece, the
Aegean islands, and Turkey, but excludes Sicily (see chapter 85 Albanese Procelli)
and North Africa (see chapter 88 Naso), the Levant, and the Black Sea area (Fig. 87.1).
Most were dedicated to the gods as votive offerings (Gk. anathēmata) in sanctuaries,
both by Greeks returning home and by Etruscans, who were admitted to Greek sanc-
tuaries even though they were foreigners. The finds date from the ninth to the fifth
centuries BCE, but no later. The richest findspot is the sanctuary of Zeus at Olympia,
where more than 120 Italic objects have been found. With very few exceptions—such
as the three helmets from Olympia celebrating the victory of Hieron of Syracuse over
the Etruscans in the sea battle of Cumae in Campania in 474 (Fig. 87.2)1—the offerings
are not inscribed, so one can only speculate about the occasion of their dedication
and the identity of the dedicator. In many cases general historical knowledge is too
limited to allow precise hypotheses, and the objects can only be classified from an
archaeological point of view. It is possible, however, to group finds with similar char-
acteristics to try to connect them with historical events.
1 Frielinghaus 2011, 402 no. D 529, 448 nos. L 1–L 2, 552 nos. 90–92 (without illustrations for the Negau
helmets).
Fig. 87.1: Greece and western Turkey. Map of the main sites cited in the text.

87 Greece, Aegean islands and Levant 1681
Fig. 87.2: Olympia: Etruscan bronze helmet with

the dedication of Hieron of Syracuse (photo A. Naso)
1 Late Bronze Age

Pottery and bronzes of Italic origin dating to the Late Bronze Age (twelfth–tenth cen-
turies) found in Greece, especially on Crete, and conversely, Mycenean pottery from
Italy, demonstrate the existence of relationships between the two areas based on trade
and the exchange of technology. The distribution and typology of the Italic objects in
Greece suggest the existence of a large movement of specialized craftsmen, including
metalworkers, from Italy to the Aegean at the end of the Bronze Age.2 Nothing has yet
been found dating to the period from the Bronze Age to the Early Iron Age (the tenth
and ninth centuries), but this does not necessarily reflect a real interruption in the
well-established relations between the eastern and western Mediterranean and is due
to accidents of discovery.
2 Iron Age and Orientalizing period

Italic bronze weapons, which have mostly been found in the Panhellenic sanctuaries
of Zeus at Olympia and Apollo at Delphi (but in other shrines as well), comprise a
precise group in Greek sanctuaries. Offensive arms include bronze spearheads, some
2 Cline 1994, 80–84, 272–73 lists the Italic objects from Greece. Bettelli 2002; see Radina and Recchia
2010 with further literature for relationships between Italy and Greece in the Bronze Age.

axes, and one sword (from Samos). Among defensive weapons, shields predominate,
but two helmets have also been found. The arms are not preserved intact but seem
to have been intentionally cut up and rendered unusable before being dedicated.
This was a typical Greek practice, which allows us to bypass the controversy over
the interpretation of these materials in favor of the hypothesis that in general, Italic
arms found in Greek sanctuaries represent weapons captured in battle by the Greeks
in Italy and dedicated—in both Panhellenic and local sanctuaries—by Greeks who
had returned home. We know that Greek settlers in Italy fought against indigenous
peoples in various places, as Thucydides reports in Sicily for Syracuse and Leontinoi
(Thuc. 6.3.2–3). On the other hand, archaeological evidence from Cumae in Campania
and Epizephyrian Locris on the Ionian Sea in Calabria shows that earlier indigenous
settlements were abandoned just after the Greek foundations, so that at least some
battles may be assumed.
According to present knowledge, the typological characteristics of the Italic
bronze spearheads from Olympia and Delphi fit with those of the spearheads used
in both Calabria and Sicily.3 Therefore, we can assume that they were dedicated by
returning Greeks, to thank Zeus Olympios not only for his advice in the choice of
the site for the new foundation, but also for his assistance in travel and fighting the
enemy. This may also explain the distribution of spearheads in major and minor sanc-
tuaries. In Olympia, the colonists (Gk. apoikioi) received help before leaving for Italy
by consulting oracles, whom they then had to thank upon returning home. On the
other hand, the local sanctuaries may have been at the birthplace of some colonists.
This assumption is generally valid, but we can distinguish some exceptions.
A bronze spearhead from Olympia, more than 60 cm long and exceptionally deco-
rated with fine engraved triangles and dots, has very few comparable pieces in Italy—
and they are from Etruria. Its dimensions and decoration indicate that it was not only
a weapon, but also a symbol of power, as spears often were in early societies.4 If this is
true, the most likely owner—and therefore the possible dedicator in Olympia—could
have been an Etruscan, who, thanks to early Hellenization, knew the importance of
the sanctuary of Zeus and wanted to behave like a Greek. As a result, he might have
devoted to the Greek god his own symbol of power.
This is a possibility stated by Pausanias, who in the second century CE saw in
Olympia “a throne donated by the Etruscan king Arimnestos, the first barbarian to
honor Zeus with a votive offering” (Paus. 5.12.5). Unfortunately, Pausanias does not
3 Six exemplars from Olympia (Baitinger 2001, 146–48, nos. 530–35, pls. 15–17) are very similar to
pieces from the Mendolito hoard in Sicily (Albanese Procelli 1993, 180–81). At least one spearhead
from Olympia (Baitinger 2001, no. 536) and one from Delphi (Avila 1983, 140–42, no. 998) are
comparable to pieces from Calabria (Pacciarelli 1999, 134–36, fig. 36). Baitinger 2001, 39 lists the Italic
objects from Greece.
4 Olympia, storage, inv. no. B 1026: Baitinger 2001, 36–38, 146–47 no. 526, pl. 15.

describe the throne or give us any indication of the date of the votive offering. Some
finds and general knowledge help us to suggest a chronology. First, the bronze finds
at Olympia also include two fragments of repoussé sheets belonging to at least one
Etruscan throne, dating to the first half of the seventh century.5 Second, Arimnestos is
the Greek rendition of an Etruscan family name that sounds very similar to the Latin
name of the Ariminus River (modern-day Marecchia) in Romagna near the Adriatic,
where the Romans founded the colony of Ariminum in 268 BCE. It is likely that the
river name has Etruscan origins, because in that territory Etruscans had been settled
around modern-day Verucchio since the early Iron Age (see chapter 76 von Eles). The
most flourishing period for the Etruscans in Verucchio was the eighth–seventh cen-
turies; the tombs dating to this period have yielded some exceptional textiles (see
chapter 29 Gleba) and at least eleven engraved wooden thrones, the highest number
known from any Etruscan cemetery. So it seems likely that in the seventh century a
throne was donated to Zeus at Olympia by an Etruscan king from Verucchio whose
name was *Arimneste according to Carlo de Simone or *Ariemena according to Gio-
vanni Colonna.6 The throne was perhaps made of wood: on the one hand the lack
of information in Pausanias, who normally describes the precious material (bronze,
marble) of the most valuable votive offerings, and the archaeological evidence of
thrones in Verucchio on the other, make the hypothesis regarding the material very
likely.
Some bronze fibulae with amber panels that came to light in the sanctuary of
Artemis at Ephesus, where they were probably dedicated together with textiles or
cloth suggest a possible role of the Etruscan community of Verucchio in trade rela-
tions in the eastern Mediterranean. The shapes of these fibulae are completely iso-
lated among the finds from Ionia, so overseas origins can be presumed for the fibulae
from Ephesus, where further amber finds are known. According to present knowl-
edge, raw amber may have been imported from Verucchio to Ephesus to be worked
in a local style.7 Fibulae with amber panels may have been involved in the raw amber
trade; if this is true, they become the indicator for relationships that otherwise would
be completely unknown for us.
The trade link between Verucchio and Ephesus, which can be connected to the
highly specialized amber-working craft that had developed at Verucchio, is not a
unique case, because other examples of probable direct relationships between cities
in the western and eastern Mediterranean can be identified, which reveal further trade
connections. Bronze workshops flourished at Vetulonia in the first half of the seventh
century. Their broad production encompassed not only vessels, but also other objects,
such as characteristic larger and smaller belt clasps that accompanied, respectively,
5 Strøm 2000; Naso 2012b.

6 de Simone 1989, 199; Colonna 1993, 53–54.
7 Naso 2012a.

male and female outfits. Characteristic bronze items from Vetulonia have been found
in the sanctuary of Hera at Samos, such as a small belt clasp and the remains of a
handle decorated with lion heads and a flower from the top of a censer.8 Correspond-
ingly, Vetulonia has yielded typical Samian finds, dated to the first half of the seventh
century (bronze cauldrons decorated with griffin or lion protomes9) and to the second
half of the seventh and the early sixth centuries (many clay vases).10
How can we explain the existence of luxury object exchange between Vetulonia
and Samos? A possible answer may be Etruria’s metal resources. The copper and iron
minerals in northern Etruria were already being exploited in the seventh century, and
the Vetulonia’s elite were involved in the mining industry (see chapter 25 Zifferero).
Trade in ingots or partly worked metals between Etruria and Samos or other eastern
Greek communities can only be assumed as early as the first half of the seventh
century; the wreck found off Giglio Island proves that around 600 BCE, metal ingots
played a primary role in Mediterranean trade relations (see chapter 49 Nijboer) and
implies personal relationships between the merchants, as shown by the Etruscan
tesserae hospitales in the sixth and fifth centuries (see chapter 10 D’Ercole). All this
allows us to imagine that gift exchange to establish new trade partnerships was prob-
ably going on in the early seventh century. The luxury objects from Vetulonia and
Samos may well be the fruit of a gift exchange, which in Etruria is well attested in
inscriptions.11
In Olympia, women’s jewelry also came to light, some of which is concentrated
around the temple of Hera. Because the pieces were found during several campaigns
carried out over many years—even before the Hera temple itself was found12—they
have not yet been completely identified. They are from no later than 600 BCE, and
include two joining fragments of a silver Etruscan plaque, probably from a diadem of
the first half of the seventh century. The plaque shows a variety of stamped decora-
tion, including animals like winged lions, depicted walking and crouching, motifs,
such as a cable pattern, Phoenician palmettes, and concentric-circle ornaments
(Fig. 87.3). Because early stamped jewelry is characteristic of southern Etruria in both
Tarquinia and Caere, it is likely that the votive offering comes from this district.13
8 Kyrieleis 1986, 127–30 for the bronze vases discussed recently by Bruni 2004; Naso 2006a, 361, fig. 8
for the belt clasp.
9 Gehrig 2004, 92–95 (“Bernardini” Werkstatt), 153–58 with previous literature.
10 Cristofani Martelli 1978, 156 nos. 15–16 (bird-bowls), 177 nos. 24–27 (alabastra); Ciuccarelli 2004,
157–68 (findspots around Vetulonia).
11 Cristofani 1984 with previous literature by the same author.
12 Moustaka 2002, 307–11.
13 Strøm 1990, 92; Naso 2006c, 340–41.

Fig. 87.3: Olympia: silver plaque (diadem?) (photo A. Naso)
3 Archaic and Late Archaic periods

From the early sixth to the mid fifth centuries, Etruscan pottery, such as bucchero,
together with luxury goods such as bronzes and wooden shrines with ivory plaques,
all played an active role in the framework of Archaic trade in both the western and
eastern Mediterranean.
Bucchero, the national Etruscan pottery (see chapters 46 Micozzi and 52 Bentz),
is widespread throughout the Mediterranean from Spain to Turkey and from south-
ern France to North Africa, particularly in the form of the kantharos, a drinking cup
with two high handles that allow the vessel to be handled easily (Fig. 49.2). Bucchero
kantharoi—particularly the shape classified as 3e by Tom Rasmussen and used from
the end of the seventh century to the first half of the sixth—are the real marker of the
Etruscans all over the Mediterranean.14
Etruscan kantharoi were highly appreciated in Greece. Herman Brijder notes that
the low attachment of the handles on the body shows that the earliest Attic black-
figure kantharoi around 580 derive directly from Etruscan bronze kantharoi.15 The
bronze handle of an Etruscan kantharos found in the temple of Apollo at Didyma
proves that bronze kantharoi were also offered in Greek sanctuaries; later black-figure
14 Rasmussen 1979, 104–6. The distribution is mapped by von Hase 1989, fig. 27, completed by Naso
2009a, 138–39.
15 Brijder 1988, completed by Naso 2006a, 377–79, figs. 11–12.

Fig. 87.4: Greek Inscriptions on Etruscan kantharoi from Greek sanctuaries 1: Perachora; 2: Ialysos;
3.–4 Lentini (after Naso 2006b, fig. 8)
vase paintings, dating to the second half of the sixth century, show that the shape was
adopted in Greek culture as an attribute of Dionysus, the Greek god of wine. Miletus is
the richest bucchero findspot in the Aegean; the recent German excavations have pro-
duced more than 100 Etruscan bucchero sherds, mostly from kantharoi. Thin section
and petrographic analysis allow us to identify the probable Etruscan production
centers of the bucchero vases, which were dedicated in the local Aphrodite sanctu-
ary. These centers were Caere and Tarquinia, which probably had direct relationships

1 2
Fig. 87.5: Etruscan Inscriptions from Greece: 1. Laconian cup from Aegina; 2: gem from Perachora
(after Cristofani 1993, fig. 1) 
with Miletus.16 Greek votive inscriptions on bucchero kantharoi from Perachora in

Greece, Ialysos on Rhodes, and some findspots in Sicily demonstrate that such votive
offerings in Greek sanctuaries must be connected to Greeks (Fig. 87.4.1–4).17
Several votive offerings are surely Etruscan anathemata. Two inscriptions from
Aegina and Perachora suggest that the Etruscans wanted to act like Greeks and par-
ticipated in the life of the sanctuaries. The first Etruscan inscription in Greece has
been identified in the sanctuary of Aphaia at Aegina; unfortunately it is incomplete:
mi pl [...]xinur. The text, engraved on a stemless Laconian cup from the third quarter
of the sixth century, names the cup’s donor in the first person. After mi (“I”) can be
read pl, probably the beginning of the family name of the person making the dedica-
tion. For the restoration of the missing part there are several possibilities, but none of
them is certain. The final letters ]xinur indicate a plural, which may refer to an offer-
ing of more than one object (Fig. 87.5.1). Mauro Cristofani suggested connecting the
inscription with the rituals carried out in the dining rooms of the sanctuary of Aphaia
and assumed the presence of an Etruscan at these ceremonies. Recently, a second
Etruscan inscription from Greece has been read on a Greek gem from the sanctuary of
Hera at Perachora, probably datable around 500. (Fig. 87.5.2)18
The most famous Etruscan anathemata in Greek sanctuaries belonging to 6th–5th
cent. are concentrated in Delphi and are connected to the consultation of the oracle
there.19 An inscribed stone base recording a Greek dedication to Apollo by the Etrus-
cans belongs to the early fifth century. According to the traces remaining on the top,
16 Bucchero and bronze kantharoi in Greek sanctuaries have been examined by Naso 2009a, with
previous literature.
17 Naso 2006b, 191 fig. 8 with literature.
18 Cristofani 1996 comments on the inscription from Aegina; Colonna 2007 publishes as Etruscan the
inscription from Perachora and suggested possible restorations for the inscription from Aegina (220
footnote 48).
19 Briquel 1998; d’Agostino 2000.

the base probably held a lebes or a krater of bronze on a supporting column. The Greek
text from Delphi raises some questions—primarily the mention of the Etruscans as a
people, because it would be the only direct testimony of the Etruscan nation thought
of as a whole (see chapter 35 Cerchiai). The inscription is not complete, so doubts
remain. We know from literacy sources that in the fifth century, two Etruscan cities—
Caere and Spina—built their own treasuries in Delphi, as was the usual practice for
several Greek city-states.20 The purpose of a treasury is to commemorate victories and
to thank the oracle of Apollo for her advice, which was thought to have contributed
to the victories. The buildings are called treasuries (Gk. thesauroi), because they held
the offerings made to the god of the sanctuary; these were frequently a tenth of the
spoils of a battle. The only non-Greek cities with their own treasuries in Delphi were
the Etruscan cities Caere and Spina. It is not by chance that these two cities are repre-
sented there; even though they were Etruscan, both were thought to have Pelasgic, i.e.
Greek, origins.21 They represented the Tyrrhenian and the Adriatic coasts and the cor-
responding resources from each—the metals of Tuscany and the grain of the Po plain,
both of them essential to the Greek economy. It can therefore be suggested that all
this played a role in the permission and/or invitation for the two non-Greek poleis to
build their own treasuries at Delphi, both in the fifth century. The identification of the
Etruscan buildings within the sanctuary is uncertain. G. Colonna suggested identify-
ing the thesauros of Caere with the remains of a building at Marmaria in the sanctuary
of Athena near the treasury of Massalia (the Greek city corresponding to modern-day
Marseille in France) and to date it to the second half of the sixth century; epigraphic
texts are lacking.22 Regarding the treasury of Spina, two characteristic bronze leg caps
belonging to a wooden Etruscan folding chair were found in Delphi and compare well
with similar finds from Etruria Padana of the first half of the fifth century. The side
palmette on the top of the leg caps is a characteristic of the folding chairs from Etruria
Padana, whereas the leg caps of the folding chairs from southern Etruria end with an
ivy leaf. In Etruria such chairs were probably a symbol of a magistrate and as such
were transmitted by the Etruscans to Roman culture (sella curulis). If this is true, the
chair from Delphi may have been offered on an unknown occasion in the thesauros of
Spina by a magistrate from Etruria Padana. Actually the two bronze fragments are the
only remains that may be connected to the thesauros of Spina (Fig. 87.6).23
The great skills of Etruscan bronze workers were highly appreciated in Greece,
as the literary tradition of the Late Archaic shows and several finds confirm, includ-
20 Jacquemin 1999, 335 no. 303 (stone base), 309 no. 012 (treasure of Caere), 352 no. 443 (treasure of
Spina).
21 The literary sources are collected and discussed by Briquel 1984, 3–30 (Spina), 169–224 (Caere).
Naso 2013 for the treasure of Spina.
22 Colonna 2000.
23 Naso 2006a, 402–6 lists the Etruscan folding chairs, completed by Naso 2014b.

Fig. 87.6: Delphi: Etruscan bronze revet-

ments from a folding chair (photo A. Naso)
ing incense-burners, a tripod, and infundibula.24 Infundibula are utensils of genuine

Etruscan invention, which were used as both funnel and strainer to filter wine (see
chapter 88 Naso). They were imported to Greece from Etruria and were probably also
imitated by Greek utensil-makers. Special attention is due to an infundibulum from
Olympia that is part of a wine set, which includes three other Greek bronze vessels (a
cauldron, a fragment of a basin, and an oinochoe), all four of which were inscribed
in the late sixth century with the same dedication to Zeus Olympios by the Eleans,
inhabitants of Elis/Eleia, an ancient district of the Peloponnese.25 We know neither
how the Etruscan infundibulum came to Olympia nor the occasion for its offering
along with the other bronzes. What we know is that it was part of a Greek wine set
that was used in ceremonies in the sanctuary of Zeus.
Some specific Etruscan products delighted Greek customers. According to the
Athenian comic poet Cratinus, Etruscan bronze sandals with thick soles were known
and appreciated in fifth-century Athens. The mention of the sole connects this remark
to a specific model of sandal, which in Etruria was a woman’s platform shoe. The
sole was thick enough to bear a bronze sheet with embossed figural decoration, as
can be seen on an earlier pair of Etruscan sandals from Grave 119 of the cemetery of
24 Literary sources are collected and discussed by Mansuelli 1984; for the archaeological evidence
see Naso 2006a, 380–97 (infundibula); 2009b (incense-burners).
25 Siewert 1991, 81–82 nos. 4 (cauldron), 5 (oinochoe), 6 (basin?), 7 (infundibulum: inv. no. B 4574).

Campovalano in Abruzzo (Teramo province), which dates to the early sixth century.26
Etruscan bronze vases were also appreciated in the Levant. In Hauran, in southern
Syria, at Tell Sukas and Al-Mina on the coast of northern Syria respectively, have been
found one olpe, one foot from a cista (small casket) and an oinochoe, dating to differ-
ent decades of the fifth century.27
These bronzes, and some wooden Etruscan shrines with ivory plaques from the
first quarter of the fifth century have been found in several places in Greece, including
Athens,28 and show the broad—if quantitatively limited—diffusion of Etruscan handi-
craft items in the Greek world. Together, they can be interpreted as traces of a trade
based on Athenian figured vases, which was in Greek hands, and as the alphabetic
trademarks show.29 However, involvement of Etruscans in the vase trade is possible.
Greek potters and painters, such as the Athenian potter Nikosthenes, whose ampho-
rae were produced expressly for Etruria,30 were so willing to adapt their production
to Etruscan tastes that the presence of Greek agents in Etruria and Etruscan agents
in Athens can be assumed. It has recently been suggested that an Etruscan painter
could have been active in the workshop of Nikosthenes in Athens around 520.31 The
importance of Etruscan business for the Greek vase traders is evidenced in the fifth
century too. A mid fifth-century red-figure cup sherd from Populonia, attributed by
John Beazley to the workshop of the Penthesilea Painter, bears a painted Etruscan
inscription: metru menece, “Metru made (me).” The Etruscan personal name Metru
derives from the Greek Metron. A variety of interpretations of this sherd have been
offered, but is likely that Metru/Metron was an Athenian potter, who by translating
his name stressed the destination of the vase in Etruria.32
26 Poll. Onom., ed. Bethe 1900–1931: 7.86.9–7.87.1 (Etruscan sandals), 7.92–7.93.1 (thick sole); additional
Greek literary sources are listed by Naso 2009b, 642. For the finds from Campovalano: Zanco 1989
(sandals); Boccolini 2003 (tomb group). I am not certain whether or not some sandals from Greek
findspots are really Etruscan, as suggested by Touloupa 1973 and recently by Frankenhauser and
Weidig 2014.
27 Weber 1990.
28 Martelli 1988–89, 17–20 for the shrines. It must be noted that the Achelous mask from Olympia,
mentioned by Martelli (20 n. 44), to be identified with Olympia, Archeological Museum, Inv. no.
M 880, is certainly of bronze cast and probably not Etruscan.
29 Johnston 1985; 2006.
30 Tosto 1999. The more widespread pyxides from the same workshop have been found in both Etruria
and Greece (Lyons 2009).
31 Malagardis 2007.
32 The various opinions and interpretations of this tiny sherd are collected by Naso 2014a, to be
supplemented with Maggiani 2011, 217, fig. 7.

4 Epilogue
A number of items, from the throne of Arimnestos in Olympia, to the magistrate’s
folding chair in Delphi, establish that the Etruscan elite in Tyrrhenian and Adriatic
city-states—which had a favored position within the Greek world—participated in the
life and ceremonies of Greek sanctuaries, consulting oracles and giving votive offer-
ings. Etruscans probably played a role in the production and distribution of Athenian
pottery in Etruria in the sixth and fifth centuries. The presumed presence of Etruscans
in Greek cities was a limited phenomenon, chronologically restricted to the age of
more intense relations between Greece and Etruria, the sixth and fifth centuries. Athe-
nian vases dating to the fourth century were exported to Adriatic Italy, particularly
Spina, but the general historical frame is completely new.
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Alessandro Naso
88 North Africa
Abstract: North Africa has yielded Etruscan and Italic finds dating to the seventh and sixth centuries
BCE, which are particularly concentrated in Carthage. Carthaginians and Etruscans were both bar-
baroi and natural allies against the Greeks, as the literary tradition confirms. The quantity and the
nature of the pottery and bronzes found here show that the Punic city had direct and intense trade
relationships with Etruscan partners such as Caere. Etruscan artifacts have also been found in Greek
colonies such as Cyrene and Naucratis, probably brought along the complex trade routes connecting
the western and eastern Mediterranean in the Archaic period. Good relations between Carthaginians
and Etruscans continued for many centuries, since in Tunisia and Algeria there are isolated finds until
the second and first centuries, including inscriptions revealing the presence of Etruscans, who prob-
ably escaped from their homeland when it was conquered by Roman armies.
Keywords: Trade, personal relationship, Carthage, Cyrene, Tunisia
Introduction
Etruscan finds in North Africa are concentrated particularly in Carthage, as has been
noted by several scholars, but Etruscan objects have also been found in other places,
such as the Greek colonies of Cyrene and Naucratis.1 For a general and reliable over-
view, then, it is necessary to extend the field of research to all of North Africa and to
compare the large amount of data from the Punic city par excellence with finds from
elsewhere. After a very few finds that date to the Early Iron Age, two main phases can
be distinguished. The first corresponds to the Late Orientalizing to Archaic period,
and the second to the Late Archaic to Hellenistic period (Fig. 88.1).
1 The Iron Age

In the early 1870s, the Marquess of Courtance bought a bronze antenna sword in Egypt
and gave it as a gift to the king of Italy for the Armeria Reale of Turin, where it is still
preserved (Fig. 88.2). There is no record of the sword’s original provenance,2 but the
type is widely distributed in Italy and Central Europe in ninth- and eighth-century
BCE contexts. Raffaele Carlo de Marinis has recently discussed the various typolo-
gies that have been developed for these swords. The exemplar in Turin belongs to
1 Pallottino 1963; MacIntosh Turfa 1977; Morel 1981, 1990; Thuillier 1985; von Hase 1989; 1993; Naso
2006; Gran Aymerich 2009, 22–28; Naso 2010.
2 Venturoli 2002, 36–37, no. A’ 43.
Fig. 88.1: North Africa. Map of the sites cited in the text
the oldest type, known as the Tarquinia-Vetulonia type, and dates to the ninth centu-
ry.3 This chronology makes it highly improbable that this Italic sword, a ceremonial
weapon, could have come from North Africa, but of course the question is still open
to debate.
Trade relationships between North Africa and the Italic regions are, however, evi-
denced by three pottery sherds found in disturbed layers in Carthage. They belong
to a particular shape of Sardinian jug, the brocche askoidi. Outside Sardinia, where
they were popular from the Late Bronze to the Early Iron Age, jugs of this shape are
known in Etruria (especially in Vetulonia, but also in Vulci, Tarquinii, and Caere),
Sicily (Mozia and Dessueri), Crete (Khaniale Tekke), and Spain (Huelva, Carambolo,
and Cadiz).4 Perhaps they were used for a specific commodity, which may explain
their wide distribution. Iron Age Pottery from central Italy has been found at Utica
both in the french-tunisian and spanish excavations5.
3 de Marinis 1999, 542–47. 

4 Delpino 2002; Lo Schiavo 2005.
5 Monchambert et al. 2013, 48-50, no. 20a–b, fig. 44; Ferjaoui and López Castro forthcoming; López
Castro, forthcoming.

88 North Africa 1697
Fig. 88.2: Bronze antenna sword (after Bianco Peroni 1970, pl. 45, no. 305)
2 Late Orientalizing and Archaic periods

From the second half of the seventh century, the founding of Greek colonies such
as Cyrene (with its subcolonies including Taucheira—modern Tocra—and Apollonia)
and Euhesperides in western North Africa, and Naucratis, in Egypt, brought not
only Greek colonists but also new connections and new waves of trade. At that time,
Carthage had not yet begun its expansion into western North Africa, but had already
established trade relations with the Etruscans, as the many finds indicate, and prob-
ably also with the Italic populations in Sicily, as reported by ancient authors. In its
tombs, both old and new excavations have found more than sixty bucchero vases
dating from the third quarter of the seventh century onward.6 Among these early
finds, an oinochoe in thin bucchero (It. bucchero sottile) is particularly notable. The
form is quite typical for Caere and its district, and dates to just after 650. Twenty-
eight small amphorae and twelve oinochoai or jugs, found in many graves and prob-
ably connected to wine consumption, also indicate contact with southern Etruria in
the second half of the seventh century. In Carthage, there are also bucchero drink-
ing cups: 2 kotylai, 11 kylikes, and 11 kantharoi (Fig. 88.3). The bucchero kantharos is
the number one sign all over the Mediterranean of Etruscan presence, from Spain to
Turkey, and from southern France to North Africa, particularly Tom Rasmussen’s type
3e, which was used from the end of the seventh to the first half of the sixth century.
To the distribution map of this shape compiled by Friedrich-Wilhelm von Hase can be
added further finds from the Aegean Sea (see chapter 87 Naso and Fig. 49.2).
This map can include Taucheira in Libya and Naucratis in Egypt as well. At Nau-
cratis, at least two kantharos sherds have been found, belonging to type Rasmus-
sen 3e.7 The first sherd is relevant because—according to its publisher Erika Prins de
Jong—some traces of silvering are still preserved on it8. “Silvering” refers to a particu-
lar treatment of the surface, which may have been achieved in two different ways.
6 von Hase 1989; Docter 1993, 229–30 nos. 23–24.

7 Naso 2006, 189, figs. 3–4; 2010, 80 nos. 26–27, figs. 2–3.
8 Prins de Jong 1925, 55–56 no. V. 2, pl. 3 (top right).

Fig. 88.3: Bucchero pottery from Carthage (after von Hase 1989, fig. 29)

The first method, which is older, quite rare, and more expensive, applies a thin layer
of metal (silver or gold) to the pottery using a particular type of clay (bole, It. bolo)
as an adhesive. According to Klaus Burkhardt, the second method was cheaper and
more frequent, and involved burnishing the surface before and during firing the pot
to achieve a silver appearance.9 Because both methods were exclusive to workshops
in Caere, we can assume provenance from that city for the bucchero kantharos found
at Naucratis. The presence in Naucratis of bucchero with silver decoration is all the
more significant, since throughout the Mediterranean only one other sherd with such
decoration is known, from the Heraion in Samos. According to Bernard Bouloumié,
some bucchero kantharoi with silver decoration were probably found in the La Love
wreck off Cap d’Antibes; but it is impossible to verify this.10
The Caeretan origin of bucchero vases found in Naucratis and Samos is not sur-
prising. As we have seen, many bucchero vases found at Carthage probably came from
Caere. Other evidence suggests that some bucchero vases found in Miletos were also
made in Caere. Thin section and petrological analyses of bucchero samples found in
the Aphrodite sanctuary on Zeytintepe in Miletos show values very close to those of
similar analyses by Burkhardt in his major research project on bucchero pottery from
southern Etruria.11
It is noteworthy that the older excavations of Carthage yielded more than twenty
Etrusco-Corinthian vases. These are Etruscan imitations of Corinthian pottery that
were very popular in Vulci and Tarquinia but less so in Caere, the Etruscan city that
imported the largest quantity of Corinthian pottery and therefore had less interest
in imitations. Janos-Györgi Szilágyi classified the Etrusco-Corinthian vases found
in Carthage as imports from Vulci and Tarquinia, all of which date to the first half
of the sixth century. These classifications have recently been confirmed by some
new Etrusco-Corinthian fragments found during two German excavations near the
Decumanus Maximus of Roman Carthage, led respectively by Friedrich Rakob and
Hans-Georg Niemeyer. The number of imports from Tarquinia, and particularly for
the vases of the “Pittore senza Graffiti,” has thus increased.12 In Carthage, Etruscan
transport amphorae have yet to be found, but it would not be surprising if they do
appear.13 These results are again compatible with the Etruscan finds from Miletos,
where some bucchero sherds may belong to vases from Tarquinia. Miletos is the find-
spot of the only Etruscan transport amphora identified up to now in the entire eastern
Mediterranean (Fig. 14.1).
9 Burkhardt 1991, 114–15. 

10 Long and Sourisseau 2002, 30.
11 Naso 2009.
12 All Etrusco-Corinthian vases from Carthage are listed in Naso 2010, 79 no. 8.
13 The so-called ZitA trade amphorae, which Roald Docter considered to be also of Central Italic
origins (Docter 1998), are now definitively attributed solely to Sardinian production by Oggiano 2000,
241–42.

How can we interpret the bucchero and Etrusco-Corinthian vases found in

Carthage? They were probably more than simple objects of trade or exotic pieces
for deposition as grave goods, especially if we connect these pots, whose numbers
increase between the third quarter of the seventh century and 550, to the events of the
second half of the sixth century. Thanks to many historians, we know that in that time
relations between Carthage and the southern Etrurian cities were particularly good
and intense. The role of the Etruscans was not secondary in the mid sixth century,
when the expansionist policies of Carthage, which was destined to become almost an
empire in the following years, began with the expedition led by Malcus in Sicily and
Sardinia.14
Herodotus explicitly mentions the alliance between Caere and Carthage against
the Greeks of Phocaea in the battle of the Sardinian Sea in about 540 (Hdt. 1.166.1–2). It
is widely accepted that the Carthaginians achieved control of Sardinia only after this
battle, in the second half of the sixth century, while the Etruscans began their domi-
nation of Corsica. This alliance was probably in force at least until the second half of
the fourth century, because in his Politica, Aristotle cited a deliberate, official treaty
between Etruscans and the Punic empire, probably between Caere and Carthage. His
references seem to indicate the existence of written documents (graphaí) concerning
trade and military agreements (Arist. Pol. 3.5.10–11). The existence of such treaties
between Caere and Carthage can be supported by other historical traditions, such as
the information from Polybius on the first treaty between Rome and Carthage, dated
about 509 (Polyb. 3.22.4–13). Scholars currently accept the existence of this first treaty,
and only a few are convinced that this is an invention, a projection into the past of
the treaty between Rome and Carthage dating to 348. Carmine Ampolo stresses the
authenticity of this early treaty and dates it to the end of the sixth century15. This
period at Caere is the age of Thefarie Velianas, the king of the city responsible for
the construction of the temple now known as Temple B in the sanctuary of Pyrgi, the
main harbor of Caere. Thefarie Velianas is expressly named in the gold tablets from
Pyrgi—two in Etruscan and one in Punic—that also record the deities of the sanctu-
ary, the Etruscan Uni and the Punic Astarte. According to many scholars, the honor of
putting a Punic inscription in one of the main sanctuaries near Caere—and of conse-
crating it to a Punic deity—is closely connected to the alliance described by Herodo-
tus. Perhaps to become king of Caere, Thefarie also received Carthaginian support.16
An important find shows the existence of close personal relationships between
Etruscans and Carthaginians, and probably also reflects the custom of the two
peoples meeting one another in their respective cities. One of the few Archaic Etrus-
14 Different opinions, however, have been expressed about Malcus and his enemies (Bernardini,
Spanu and Zucca 2000; Krings 2000).
15 Ampolo 1987, 80–84; Scardigli 1991, 47–87.
16 Colonna 2010, with previous bibliography.

Fig. 88.4: Tessera hospitalis from Carthage (after Pugliese Carratelli 1986,
fig. 55)
can inscriptions outside Etruria was found in a tomb of the Santa Monica necropolis
in Carthage. Inscribed on the reverse of an ivory tessera in the form of a quadruped
(Fig. 88.4) is mi puinel karthazies vesqu[vacat]na (“I belong to Puinel the Carthag-
inian...”). This little tablet, dating to the last quarter of the sixth century, has been
identified as a tessera hospitalis—almost an identity card, intended to match another
similar piece belonging to an Etruscan. Palaeography indicates that the tablet was
inscribed in Tarquinii or Vulci. Only a few other ivory tesserae hospitales are known; it
is not by accident that one in the form of a panther was found outside Etruria, in Rome
(see chapter 79 Naso). In another tablet, only partially preserved, from the Etruscan
residence of Murlo (Siena), Adriano Maggiani suggested restoring the name puinel[---].
If his interpretation is correct, this could be further evidence concerning relations
between Etruscans and Carthaginians.17 In the last quarter of the sixth century, then,
after the battle of the Sardinian Sea, we can clearly see direct and personal contacts
between southern Etruscans and Carthaginians, both of them barbaroi and therefore
17 Maggiani 2006.

natural allies against the Greeks. It is also possible to accept a proposal by Dietrich
Berges, who included Etruscan people among the possible clients visiting the state
archive in Carthage.18
We may therefore conclude that the presence of rich Etruscan Archaic finds in
western North Africa was due not only to trade, but in some cases also to direct rela-
tions with Etruria, particularly with Caere.
In the Greek colonies of North Africa, in contrast, we can ascribe the Etruscan
finds to indirect contacts through trade. This may be the case of the bucchero kan-
tharoi in Taucheira and Naucratis and of the other bucchero vases from Naucratis
recently published by Phil Perkins. Bucchero sherds are known to have been found
at Karnak in Egypt and Tipasa in Algeria. Thanks to information kindly provided by
Pierre Rouillard, we know that only one Etruscan sherd has been found at Karnak—of
a small amphora dated to 600.19 The Etruscan bucchero vases found in Greek sanc-
tuaries can generally be considered gifts from merchants returning home, as can be
seen from the Greek names inscribed on bucchero vases dating to the first half of the
sixth century found in Perachora, Ialisos (on Rhodes), and Sicily (in Selinous and
now in Leontinoi). These include a Nearchos in Perachora and probably a Leukios in
Leontinoi (see chapter 87 Naso).
What is quite surprising in North Africa is the absence of Etruscan bucchero at
Cyrene. This may be due to the scarcity of Archaic pottery published from the site.
What has been found in Cyrene, however, is a bronze fragment belonging to an
Etruscan utensil, which Mario Zuffa identified as an infundibulum,20 a very elaborate
funnel that was part of a wine set. It is in the form of a small bronze frog with a hole
bored through it and a cutaway to fit a tang by which the frog could be attached to a
bronze handle. The frog held a strainer that was originally fixed with rivets. Both frog
and strainer could be lifted up and the funnel used alone. Infundibula usually have a
handle in the form of a lyre that ends in a duck’s head with a long bill, or more rarely
in a ram’s head. It is quite common for the hinge to be T-shaped, or, if representa-
tional, a lion couchant, a frog, or occasionally a sphinx. These utensils are a typical
Etruscan invention, and were used for pouring wine, for instance from a krater into a
oinochoe or from a oinochoe into a kantharos. In the second half of the sixth century
they were very popular all over the Mediterranean (Fig. 88.5). Infundibula from that
period are the counterpart in bronze of the bucchero kantharoi from the first half of
the same century; they are a real Etruscan marker, one of the valued tyrrhenoi chalkoi
celebrated in ancient Greek literature. Since Zuffa’s article, which listed twenty-eight
of them, many new finds have surfaced. We can now list more than 100 infundibula
18 Berges 1997, 52.

19 Perkins 2007. All the sherds have already been listed (Naso 2010, 79 no. 2 for Tipasa, 80 nos. 28–32
for Naucratis, 80 no. 34 for Karnak). 
20 Zuffa 1960.

Fig. 88.5: Diffusion of bronze infundibula (map compiled by A. Naso)
belonging to at least four main types: (1) lyre-handled (the most common, with sub-
types); (2) similar but without tang, known from San Martino in Gattara; (3) palmette-
handled; (4) special forms, including non-Etruscan examples.
Although many have appeared on the art market with no provenance, the finds-
pots, when known, are significant. In Italy they are quite widespread. The main source
is southern Etruria, but they have also been found in Campania, Umbria, ancient
Picenum (corresponding to the modern-day southern Marche and northern Abruzzo),
and the modern-day Veneto; several examples have been found in Sicily. Outside Italy
there are four from Spain, one from Cyrene, three (or more) from Olympia (one with
a Greek inscription), one from Argos, one from Ialisos on Rhodes, one from Thasos,
one from Samos, and one from Didyma. Another funnel was found in Switzerland, in
the Arbedo hoard. Two further bronze fragments that represent ducks’ heads, from
Carthage and from Didyma, may belong to infundibula or to ladles, which have also
been found in Greece. This wide distribution, including not only Italic regions but
also the Mediterranean basin and central Europe, and the provenance of many pieces
from illegal excavations during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, seems reason
enough to localize the workshop in southern Etruria. Against current opinion, which
assumes only one workshop in Volsinii, the different forms (or subtypes) of the lyre-

handled utensils suffice to postulate the existence in southern Etruria of more than
one workshop.21 One of these may have been in Vulci, where the most famous Etrus-
can bronze workshops flourished, which were responsible both for masterpieces,
such as the rod tripods found on the Athenian Acropolis and in a Celtic grave in Bad
Dürkheim near Speyer in Germany, and for everyday vases, such as the countless
bronze beak-spouted jugs (Ger. Schnabelkannen) that were destined for long-distance
trade in the territories north of the Alps (see chapter 82 Baitinger). Seven Schnabel-
kannen have also been found in Carthage.
An Etruscan archaic bronze mirror from Sestino (prov. Arezzo) has stylistic influ-
ences of a mirror group from Mit Rahineh in Egypt, dated to the end of 7th cent. BCE.
Two Egyptian mirrors of this group have been found in Greek sanctuaries and show
the distribution in the Mediterranean of these artefacts; one can presume Egyptian
mirrors arrived to Etruria through direct or indirect contacts22.
3 From the Late Archaic to the Hellenistic period

Herodotus reports that in the early fifth century, Dionysios of Phocaea fought against
Etruscans and Carthaginians (Hdt. 6.17), who, according to the same historian, shared
a common fate in the battles lost against the Greeks of Syracuse (the Carthaginians in
Sicily at Himera in 480, the Etruscans in the Sea of Cumae in Campania in 474). From
Diodorus Siculus we learn that at the end of the fourth century, Samnite, Etruscan,
and Celtic mercenaries fought for Agathocles of Syracuse against the Carthaginian
army (Diod. Sic. 20.11.1). The few, but relevant, archaeological finds may confirm the
relationships that underlie these encounters.
In this context we must mention a find that is not Etruscan. A chamber tomb in
Tunisia near Ksour es-Saaf, not far from Mahdia, yielded an impressive triple-disc
cuirass of gilded bronze, perfectly preserved, in 1909. Similar cuirasses, datable to the
end of the fourth century, are common in southern Italy among Samnites, Lucanians,
and other Italic populations.23 The interpretation of the cuirass is not clear: is it war
booty? Or is it the ceremonial attire of an Italic soldier, or rather officer, of Agathocles?
Both are possibilities.
In Carthage and Cyrene, there are also some red-figure Etruscan plates of the
Genucilia class, dating to the end of the fourth–early third century.24 This pottery was
21 Naso 2015, nos. 1–94, with previous literature.

22 Maggiani 2003.
23 Tagliamonte 2004, 161 footnote 103. Gianluca Tagliamonte is working to an edition of these
cuirasses (Tagliamonte 2014, 181).
24 Naso 2010, 79 no. 16 (at least six Genucilia plates from Carthage) and no. 23 (one Genucilia plate
from Cyrene).

produced in several workshops, one of which was in Caere. The find of a 50 cm high
marble cippus in the “Salammbô tophet” shows the probable presence of an Etrus-
can from Caere in Carthage. Such cippi are typical markers for male tombs in Caere
from the fourth century onward. It would seem very probable that this cippus was the
gravestone of an Etruscan who died in Carthage, perhaps in the early third centu-
ry.25 Relationships between Etruscans and Punic people may also be presumed in the
second century, thanks to a small bronze disc with an Etruscan inscription found in a
Punic grave near Gouraya in Algeria. The Etruscan inscription mentions an Etruscan
personal name, pumpun larthal, meaning “Pumpun (son) of Larth.” Can the absence
of a praenomen for Pumpun mean that the relationships stated on the disc were with
all the male members of the Pumpun family, i.e. with all the sons of Larth? According
to Dominique Briquel, this is a possibility.26
It is not coincidental that, in the fourth and third centuries, when the Roman
armies were conquering Etruria city by city, some northern Etruscans fled their
land to find a new homeland in Africa. This could explain how the longest Etruscan
inscription, the liber linteus (now in the Zagreb National Museum), written on linen
cloth carbon-dated to within twenty-five years of 390, came to be found in Egypt.
The palaeography suggests that the inscription dates from the end of the third to the
second century. We do not know whether the Etruscan book was written in Egypt or,
as seems more likely, was taken to Egypt, where it was used to wrap a mummy. This
is presumed to have happened quite late, perhaps after the Perusine War (41–40),
because its characteristics suggest that the book was written by a scribe from a north
Etruscan area such as Perusia (Perugia).27
Finally, eight Etruscan inscriptions on three boundary stones, found in Tunisia in
the hinterland of Carthage, name the same person, the Etruscan Marce Unata Zutas
(Fig. 38.6). Because Unata is a typical name from Clusium and its district, they prob-
ably relate to the escape from Clusium in 82 of the Roman consul Cn. Papirius Carbo
and his Etruscan friends mentioned by Appian.28
Thus the presence of Etruscans in North Africa was a persistent phenomenon, a
feature of the histoire de longue durée of this region.
25 von Hase 1996; Bénichou-Safar 2004, 179 pl. XLIX, 9.

26 Briquel 2006 on this inscription, with previous literature.
27 Maggiani 2007 and now Belfiore 2010 for various aspects of the inscription. Srdoč et al. 1990
suggest a radiocarbon date, which few scholars accept.
28 Colonna 1983, 1–5. See also chapter 38 Torelli.

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Claire Joncheray
89 Southern France
Abstract: The presence of Etruscans in southern Gaul, from Liguria to Catalonia, raises the problem
of the articulation between the physical facts of commerce (coins and imported amphorae, bucchero,
and bronze) and the weak indications of the physical presence of Etruscans living in the area (cooking
pottery, inscriptions). Given the current state of knowledge, only the site of Lattes, between the end
of the sixth and the beginning of the fifth cent. BCE, offers an example of Etruscan settlement in a
house-warehouse near the city wall, just when the importation of Etruscan products began a severe
decline all across the shores of Gaul. The chronological presentation of the sources on the presence of
Etruscans on the Gaulish coast, from the seventh to the third century, recalls the various controversies
about the relationships between commerce and the origin of the merchants, the conflicts over control
of the seaways between the various participants in trade, and the motives that might have led some
Etruscans to live in southern Gaul.
Keywords: commerce, settlement, Gaul, migration
Introduction
To approach the theme of the Etruscan presence in the Gaulish Midi is to confront the
problem of the “installation” of the Etruscans or of a possible permanent settlement
(“stanziamento stabile”), all the more so since there is now a great deal of evidence—
notably graffiti and cooking Etruscan pottery—that suggests the presence of individu-
als of Etruscan culture who had immigrated to the area.1
The increasing number of discoveries complicates the problem of these migra-
tions and modes of trade but does not fundamentally alter it.2 In fact, the chronology
and the historical framework, as they were presented in 2002 at the Istituto di Studi
Etruschi ed Italici colloquium “The Etruscans from Genova to Ampurias” are fully
up to date.3 This meeting, published in 2006, was accompanied by two exhibitions
whose catalogues also provide a series of syntheses, under the titles “The Etruscans
in France” and “The Etruscans and the Sea”.4
From the quantity of materials that have been found, the geographic arc from
Liguria to Catalonia appears to have been the main outlet for Etruscan products in the
western Mediterranean (Fig. 89.1). The chief markers of this trade are the amphorae,
the bucchero, and some bronzes. The height of their distribution occurred in the sixth
century, in both dwellings and necropolises. This physical evidence begins to appear
1 Respectively Py 1995; Cristofani 1983 and Boulomié 1992; Colonna 2006.

2 Gras 2004.
3 Atti Marseille.
4 Landes 2003; Long, Pomey and Sourisseau 2002.
1710 Claire Joncheray
Fig. 89.1: Southern France. Map of the sites quoted in the text
toward the middle of the seventh century (despite a few reservations) and lasted until
the third. For the most part associated with the distribution of wine, they surely rep-
resent payment for purchases of metals, salt, or slaves. The absence of literary texts
obliges scholars to rely on archaeological data that pose chronological problems and
fail to resolve questions on the origin of the people, the reasons for their migration,
the modalities of their presence, and their local impact,5 such as the controversial
5 Morel 2006, 23–45. He also recalls the mention in literary sources of Etruscan coins in southern
Gaul.

89 Southern France 1711
question as to whether the Etruscans were the initiators of the distribution of their
own products.6
Two lines of research, however, have advanced considerably over the last few
years, concerning the structuring of the Gaulish populations7 and the place of the
Phocaeans in the history of the western Mediterranean.8 The historical reconstruction
of relations between southern Gaul and the Etruscans must in fact be resituated in
the contexts of commercial competition in the Tyrrhenian Sea and the ability of local
populations to open to the Mediterranean on the basis of the length, vitality, and
development of their contacts.
The present synthesis is based on the presentation of archaeological data both
chronologically and regionally (western Languedoc, eastern Languedoc, Rhône delta,
lower Provence, and Liguria), in order to gain an idea of the dynamics of the traffic
and the modalities of the Etruscan presence.
1 Early indications of the opening of the Gauls

to the Mediterranean (eighth–seventh centuries)
The eighth century corresponds to the beginning of Archaic trafficking in the western
Mediterranean, but southern Gaul is marked by only sporadic contacts from the
seventh century. The local populations followed a relatively homogeneous cultural
model that began to regionalize into two groups: the suspendien’s culture to the east
of the Hérault, following a more continental pattern, and the Grand Bassin I’s culture
to the west of that river, which was more open to the Mediterranean.9 These settled
populations, characterized by the import and adaptation of metallurgical technology,
were at that point experiencing a crisis, to an extent.
According to Michel Gras, this development could not have been unrelated to
possible trade with Etruscan populations.10 Some very scarce indications for this
trade have been found in Languedoc, including native imitations of products from
Italy such as the bronze simpula, roasting spits, and anthropomorphic ceramic vases.
There were also luxury goods from Greece, such as some pottery from the Grand
Bassin I necropolis at Mailhac, or Etrusco-geometric items imitating proto-Corinthian
ware dating to the third quarter of the seventh century in the Peyrou necropolis at
6 Morel 1981; Bats 1998; Py 2003.

7 Py 1993; Garcia 2010.
8 Bats 2006; Dietler 2010; Malkin 2011; Roure 2015.
9 Janin 2006.
10 Gras 2000.

Agde.11 These distributions are contemporary with the presence of the first commer-
cial establishments on the Ligurian coast, north of Etruria. The Chiavari necropolis at
Genoa (eighth–seventh century) is the example for this trade, with the same sorts of
imports that are found in the necropolis of Agde.12
There is not general agreement about this Orientalizing atmosphere and the pro-
cesses of distribution of these products. The absence of clear signs of trade, such as
the bucchero kantharoi of the later period, makes it difficult to reconstruct traffic in
southern Gaul and to place the Etruscans in a distribution system where, among the
imported materials, materials from eastern Greece predominate. On the basis of iso-
lated objects, the use of tableware and the emergence of the banquet theme suggest
chieftain’s trade, a system of exchange based on gifts and counter-gifts in societies
dominated by an elite ruling class. This reciprocity between geographically distant
elites implies a low frequency of contact, the absence of the socio-professional cat-
egory of merchants, and the acquisition of a social position linked to the possession
of imported goods that are considered luxury goods because of their rarity.13
2 The earliest imports, and controversy over

the role of the Etruscans in their trade
(very end of the seventh and early sixth century)
Archaeological items, whose Etrurian provenance is undoubted, arrive in southern
Gaul toward the end of the seventh century or around 600—that is, at the time when
Massilia (modern-day Marseille) was founded by the Phocaeans. This period corre-
sponds to the arrival of a new kind of trade, in the form of emporia, namely large-scale
commerce, characteristic of Phocaean operations but not unknown to the Etruscan
system already familiar from the sites of Genoa and Gravisca. The local populations
at that time saw the beginnings of urbanism. Major cultural and regional gaps were
created.14
The pivotal period in the founding of Massilia was marked by the arrival of
Greek and Etruscan products on the Gaulish coast. This phenomenon is confirmed in
western Languedoc, where Etruscan amphorae are rare in the dwellings, the necropo-
lises, and some of the Launacian hoards of metals.15 They are concentrated on the
11 These objects may have come from the city of Tarquinia: Gras 2000.
12 Gras 2004; Melli 2006; Paltineri 2010.
13 Polanyi, Arensberg, Pearson 1957, 262.
14 Py 1993.
15 Garcia 2003, 31–45. The Launacian phenomenon corresponds to the native development of the
production of metals intended for trade. This was an economic phenomenon, not a regional culture.

coast at Pech Maho, Ruscino, and Montlaurès. In the lower and middle Hérault Valley,
bucchero vessels and embossed rim basins arrived at the same time as Greek prod-
ucts, around 600, at Florensac, Pézenas, and even Bessan. Under the same condi-
tions, objects of Etruscan origin are found in the Rhône delta and Provence, mostly
in dwellings and primarily along the coast. The earliest levels relevant for imports, at
Saint Blaise, Massalia, Tamaris, and L’Arquet, show from the beginning the simulta-
neous presence of Greek and Etruscan products dating no earlier than the 600s.
The only sites showing a chronological distinction with respect to the types of
imports are found in central Languedoc, namely, the oppidum of La Liquière and the
lagoon deposit of Tonnerre I. Michel Py proposes a chronological distinction between
a first phase characterized by Etruscan imports (625–600) and a second phase (600–
575) during which Greek material appears, while at the same time distinguishing
two commercial phases and the priority of Etruscan commerce.16 Michel Bats sug-
gests lowering this chronology by a quarter-century, to make it correspond with the
other situations of southern Gaul, where the arrival of imports includes both Etruscan
and Greek products simultaneously.17 Trade was based on meeting places stimulated
and encouraged by the Phocaeans, from Naucratis to Massilia via Gravisca, with no
accords or conventions to regulate travel and commerce.
The types of trade in this period thus involve both praxis, with the importation
of bronze basins, and the emporion, with the massive distribution of wine, follow-
ing various sea routes and various organizations of local populations, up until about
540/530. The Etruscan amphorae come from Vulci, Caere, and at least one other center
that has not yet been identified.18 The Rochelongue wreck on the Agde coast held
nearly 800 kg of copper that might have been part of this trade.19 As for the actual
presence of Etruscans, the question remains open and focuses on the controversy
over the existence of a primary Etruscan commerce or a commerce stimulated by the
Phocaeans. The forms of bucchero vases between Saint Blaise and Massilia vary and
suggest at least two different Mediterranean systems of consignment. Despite the idea
of an Etruscan establishment at Saint Blaise, it seems that the oppidum was a native
construction, which is not contradicted by the presence of an Etruscan graffito on an
amphora.20 For Massilia, the possible existence of an Etruscan quarter within the city
has been suggested, because of the density of Etruscan products and the presence of
ordinary pottery, which reinforces the idea of commerce right from the founding of
Marseille.21 As for Tamaris, the site has only one level of occupation, beginning in 600,
16 Py 2003; Dedet and Py 2006, 121–44.

17 Bats 1998; 2006.
18 On the various kinds of amphora and their origin, see Py 1985; Herubel and Calledrat 2006, 161.
19 The cargo, similar to the deposits in the region, might have been sailing to Etruria (Py 1993).
20 Colonna 1980.
21 Sourisseau, in Long, Pomey and Sourisseau 2002, 90; Colonna 2006, 662, footnote 6.

and a house whose plan is unlike that of buildings known in the region. The urban
organization of Tamaris suggests foreign elements but it is not possible to determine
if these are the result of Etruscan migration, because the principal traders were Greek.
3 The first half of the sixth century:

Wide distribution of Etruscan products
The problem of the motivations of the first merchants to participate massively in trade
on the southern coast of Gaul was succeeded by a less controversial situation with
most imported products being Etruscan. The region between Massilia and Ampurias
was the main outlet for this commerce.
On the Roussillon shore and in the lower Aude Valley, up to 70 km inland, Etrus-
can products have been found, albeit in small quantities. Amphorae, associated
with transition bucchero and metal items, are rare but may have reached as far as
the Atlantic via Languedoc, starting from Agde, Florensac, Bessan, and maybe even
Béziers. The dynamism of the coast was then influenced by the view of the role of
Agde and Bessan in the framework of the Greek network. Of the amphorae discovered
at Agde dating between 560 and 520, 58% come from Etruria.22 Relations with eastern
Languedoc were not uniform: amphorae have been found mostly on the coast, but
tableware has been found in the inland. The local populations gradually abandoned
the lagoon sites and gathered around the Lez river. The period between 570–530
saw the arrival of a higher number of Etruscan than Greek imports, demonstrating
lasting and regular relations with Etruria. In the area of Massilia, Etruscan links were
favored, but there were also links with the Greeks and Phoenicio-Carthaginians of the
eastern Mediterranean basin. The manufacture of ceramics at Massilia began during
the first quarter of the sixth century, and imports of Etruscan and Greek ceramics in
the hinterland are fairly rare. As for the Massif des Maures, Esterel, and Liguria, com-
merce used the maritime route, as is shown by the number of wrecks, but the absence
of power centers places this region off the beaten path.
Two wrecks from this period illustrate the coexistence of different types of
traffic, one from the Cap d’Antibes and one from the Isola del Giglio. The first, dated
to between 600 and 540/530, carried 180 Etruscan amphorae versus only three of a
Greek type, and Etruscan kantharoi, pitchers, kylikes, and plates. The homogeneity of
the cargo is reinforced by ship’s fittings that were also of Etruscan or Etrusco-Punic
origin whose culture resembles those of Massilia from the same period. Conversely,
despite a predominance of amphorae from Caere and Vulci, the boat from Giglio
(dated to 590–580) shows greater heterogeneity in Greek provenance and a larger
22 Dedet et al. 2006.

quantity of this type of material. A hallmark of commerce in the first half of the sixth
century is traffic that is mixed and quite varied, ranging from lengthy shopping trips,
as the homogeneity of the cargo from Cap d’Antibes suggests, to hugging the coast, as
exemplified by the ship from Giglio.23
4 From 540/530 to 480: Etruscan presence

and Massilian competition
This was a decisive period in the consolidation of the local populations, with the crea-
tion of many sites and an economic and social transformation of the populations.24
These changes are also visible in the significant fall-off in Etruscan imports to Gaulish
sites in favor of products from Massilia. The commercial advantage seized by Mar-
seille is definitely linked to the establishment around 540/530 of its own vineyard and
the arrival of Phocaean populations in the wake of the destruction of Phocaea and the
defeat of Aleria (535) by the Etrusco-Carthaginian coalition.25
Beginning in 525, 70–95% of all amphorae imports into southern Gaul were from
Massilia, more quickly or less depending on the region. In Roussillon, bucchero was
not found in Ibero-Languedoc dwellings after the third quarter of the sixth century
except residually. Amphorae were still found, but in reduced quantities compared
with Iberian and Greek products and, paradoxically, were more widely distributed in
the interior country. In the new sites of Pech Maho and Montlaurès, the imports are
above all Iberian and Massilian, and less often Etrurian. In the Agde area as far as the
Rhône delta, sites spread toward the shore between 525 and 500 and became stopo-
vers in the wholesale trade primarily from Massilia. The symbolic Etruscan drink-
ing vessel, however, is found in the necropolises of central Languedoc in the second
and third quarters of the sixth century, with Etruscan amphorae used for a very short
time as ossuaries, notably at Pézenas. In the area around Massilia, the native dwell-
ing became fixed around 500, and a change can be observed in the typology of both
Etruscan bucchero and amphorae, with a considerable reduction in quantity.
The only exception to this process concerns the site of Lattes, founded around
500, when the site of Cougourlude at the mouth of the Lez (abandoned around 450)
was still operating, which around 600 had both Greek and Etruscan imports. The
earliest levels of the founding of the fortified site of Lattes had mostly homogene-
23 Colonna 2006. See also chapters 10 D’Ercole and 22 Pomey.

24 Garcia 2010.
25 Michel Bats interprets Massilia’s output as a necessity born of the crisis in the supply of Etruscan
wine, and not vice versa (Bats 2006, 86).

ous Etruscan imports and a considerable presence of Etruscophones.26 The house, or

warehouse, occupied by these Etruscans, judging by the pottery and the inscriptions,
burned around 475, and the site thus lost its uniqueness concerning the provenance
of its Mediterranean provisions.27 In the immediate countryside of Lattes, thanks to
the role of the oppidum Sextansio (and maybe of Béziers as well), the proportion of
amphorae during this period was thus considerably higher than in the rest of Gaul.
This period of “democratization” of trade is also marked by a larger number of
discovered wrecks. The Grand Ribaud F ship, beached on the island of Porquerolles,
bore a cargo of more than 800—and as many as 1000—Etruscan amphorae, metal
items such as bronze basins, and fittings with graffiti indicating Etruscan provenance.
This ship may have been used in trade with Lattes and Liguria, an area into which
Etruscan territory was expanding at that time. The wrecks of Bon Porté 1, Dattier, and
Pointe Lequin IB display mixed cargoes, mostly from Massilia.28
At the end of the sixth century, it is thus possible to identify the individual pres-
ence of Etruscans at least in Languedoc at a time when the distribution of their prod-
ucts was considerably reduced in the face of Massilian commercial strength but was
nonetheless at its peak in the countryside. Furthermore, contact with southern Gaul
favored the spread of the merchandise to other regions, notably along the Rhône
Valley and toward the Atlantic. The material is sporadic, but it demonstrates a heavy
demand, on the part of local elites, for Mediterranean products since the Villano-
van period, as shown by an eighth century razor, shaped like a half-moon, found at
Bourges, or fibulae found at several sites in the Loire region. Archaic statuettes, often
without context, or pieces of furniture are also found at several sites in the area. In the
Rhône Valley, Etruscan products are a minority of the imports but they reach as far as
Lyon. Etruscan tableware, notably bucchero kantharoi, was imported from the begin-
ning to the third quarter of the sixth century. Then, until the end of the fifth century,
amphorae continued to go up the river but the tableware disappeared. At the end of
the fifth century, Mediterranean material no longer appears in the northern Rhône-
Alps area. However, there could be several sources of supply of these imports, and
merchandise crossing the Alps complements the coastal trade of southern Gaul. For
the Atlantic regions, the question of direct contacts with the Mediterranean dealers
has been raised. In the necropolises of Morbihan and maritime Charente, basins of
26 Py et al. 2006, 583–608; Dietler 2010. The graffiti suggest that at this time both Greeks and
Etruscans lived at Lattes (Colonna 1980; Bats 1988).
27 The lowest levels at Lattes, between the end of the sixth and the beginning of the fifth centuries,
yield a quantity of Etruscan amphorae amounting to nearly 85% of this category, versus an expected
15–30% on the basis of nearby sites (Py 2003).
28 Long, Pomey and Sourisseau 2002. The provenance of a ship and the origin of its crew are never
fully clear (Drakides, Nantes et al. 2010).

Etruscan type and situlae from Italy have been found alongside Greek material dating
to the fifth and fourth centuries.29
5 The fifth century (480–396): Weak indications of

Etruscan presence in trade dominated by Massilia
Beginning in 480, the ascendancy of quality Massilian ceramics over the imported
amphorae became unequivocal, even in the area of Lattes. Roussillon, however, con-
tinued to import mostly Iberian products. The Etruscans, though, never went away,
as shown not only by their products but also by inscriptions on lead from Catalo-
nia, graffiti from Ensérune and Béziers, and by the types of millstones and mortars.30
These changes are related in part to the stepping up of competition from Syracuse in
the Tyrrhenian Sea. This was indeed the time of disappearance of the bucchero that
had until then been the chief type-fossil of Etruscan trade.
In western Languedoc, the inscription of Pech Maho, dating to the middle of the
fifth century, provides evidence of an Etruscan presence. Men called Venel and Utavu
are named in this commercial treaty recording the sale of a ship involving the city of
Marseille and perhaps Ampurias.31 The marketing of Etruscan products thus contin-
ued in Languedoc with an increasing role for Béziers, Monédière, and Agde. If the
strengthening of the habitat took place around these poles, the strength of the com-
mercial stopovers remained in the framework of principally Greek networks. Lattes
continued to import Etruscan goods until the fourth century, but the quantities were
greatly reduced in comparison with those from Massilia. Around the mid fifth century,
the number of Etruscan graffiti falls off strongly. At La Liquière, Greek imports tripled
between the beginning and end of the fifth century. The Rhône delta and the area
around Massilia passed completely under Massilia’s control, and Greek imports took
over all the settlements in the countryside.
6 The final Etruscan imports (fourth–third centuries)

In Languedoc, the fourth century saw a limited revival of Etruscan contact, with the
presence of Etruscan material at Mailhac, Béziers, and Ensérune in both dwellings
and necropolises. The provisioning of Béziers, however, remained 70% Greek. Two
29 For this section on Etruscan imports in Gaul, see Frère 2006.

30 Herubel and Calledrat 2006.
31 From the very long bibliography, see De Hoz 1992, 264–65; Decourt 2000.

vases that can be assigned to the Sokra group arrived between 350 and 300. The term
“Sokra group” refers to a collection of ceramics overpainted with typical decoration in
pink that was made in southern Etruria and the Faliscan area. This technique, in use
during the fourth century, originated with the Greek painter Sokrates, who emigrated
to Falerii after the Peloponnesian War.32
As for Agde, the city underwent a Greek reestablishment and centralized the
flows of commerce, in the context of the settlements from Massilia along the coast.33
At Massilia, a few Etruscan commercial amphorae were still arriving along with both
black-glazed and overpainted ware. Etruscan material was thus not entirely absent
from commercial circulation in the Hellenistic period, but the types of products
changed. They were mostly overpainted ware dating to the second half of the fourth
century and black-glazed ware that primarily came from Caere. The few forms of fine
tableware, standardized skyphoi and kylikes, are found in limited quantity and do not
imply direct contact with the Etruscans.
7 Conclusion
The preferred area of Etruscan imports on the shore of the Gaulish Midi corresponds
to Basse Provence and eastern Languedoc. Imports begin toward the end of the
seventh century or in the environs of 600, in keeping with an open emporium system,
strongly marked by Phocaean influence. Etruscan commerce did not result in a real
economic network but concentrated on the exportation of products relating to the
banquet (wine and drinking service) and not necessarily excluding Greek products.
The presence of Etruscans in southern Gaul is thus linked to favored and continu-
ous trade but did not give rise to colonization. Not all the cities of the Tyrrhenian front
were involved in these dealings, and the competition unrolled primarily between
Caere and Vulci. Since the number of graffiti found so far remains quite small, it seems
that the Etruscan establishments went from the area of Saint Blaise and L’Arquet at
the beginning of the sixth century to the area of Lattes at the beginning of the fifth.
The peak of trade took place between the sixth century and around 480, the year
of the beginning of Massilia’s and of the organization of the seas, which did not favor
the Etruscans. The Etruscans participated in trade, but their degree of involvement
and the modes of their establishment on the Gaulish coasts are not yet entirely under-
stood.
32 Pianu 1978; Jolivet 1980, 707 footnote 16.

33 Ugolini and Olive 2003, 35–48.

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dell’incontro di studio, Rome, 5–7.12.1983, edited by M. Cristofani, 73–94. Rome: CNR.
—. 1993. Les Gaulois du Midi de la fin de l’âge du Bronze à la conquête romaine. Paris: Hachette.
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collections, exhibition catalogue, edited by C. Landes, 27–29. Lattes: Association Imago,
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Association Imago, musée de Lattes.

90 The Iberian peninsula 1721

90 The Iberian peninsula
Abstract: The geography, the cultural distinctions and the various historical events of the Iberian
peninsula play an important role in the definition of the presence of the Etruscans and their commer-
cial activity in the peninsula itself.
Keywords: Spain, Phoenician, Iron Age, Archaic Age, trade
Introduction
Up-to-date insights into the presence of the Etruscans and their commercial activity
in the Iberian peninsula can be gained only after some preliminary considerations
regarding the geography, the cultural distinctions and the various historical events of
the peninsula itself.
1 New approaches
Recent investigations have been based on the study of specific objects or on the typol-
ogy of artifacts, focusing in particular on pottery and metalware.1 General reviews
of the relationships between the Iberian peninsula and Etruria are limited,2 but
the Barcelona Congress3 must be mentioned as representing a turning point in the
research. Although a continuous stream of contributions did not ensue, the general
works of Massimo Botto and James Vives-Ferrándiz4 or Giacomo Bardelli and the
present author,5 the Catalan synthesis,6 and some specific articles should be recog-
nized.7 Despite the limited attention this subject has received, the number of findings
increases constantly and a comprehensive review (including a catalogue of Etruscan
objects from the Iberian peninsula) appears to be necessary to improve our knowl-
edge. Such a catalogue will not be presented here, but we offer a general overview
1 For bibliographical reviews see Botto and Vives-Ferrándiz 2006; Vives-Ferrándiz 2007; Graells 2008;
Graells 2010a; Graells 2015; Bardelli and Graells 2012.
2 Llobregat 1982; Almagro-Gorbea 1992.
3 Remesal and Musso 1991.
4 Botto and Vives-Ferrándiz 2006.
5 Bardelli and Graells 2012.
6 Aquilué et al. 2006; Graells 2010a; Sanmartí, Asensio and Martín 2006.
7 Roldán 1995–96; Bruni 2007.

1722 Raimon Graells i Fabregat
and illustrate the state of our knowledge about the relationship between Etruria and
Iberia, with special attention devoted to its leading actors.
As for the geographical situation, the Iberian peninsula shows great variation
in topography and climate as well as fertile soil and several deposits of mineral
resources, mostly in the south, in modern Andalusia (Fig. 90.1). A series of mountain
ranges appear to divide the country, but important river valleys, such as the Ebro,
Fig. 90.1: Distribution map of the Etruscan imports in the Iberian peninsula

Segura, and Guadalquivir allow communication among different cultural regions,

from the coast to the interior.
From a cultural point of view, the well-studied indigenous dynamics developed
from the Bronze Age on allow us to recognize a varied range of cultural phenomena,
which influenced the exploitation of the resources and contact with peoples of the
Mediterranean, including their local development. In the southern part of the Iberian
peninsula, the Bronze Age communities rapidly built hierarchical societies that turned
into “monarchies” during the Iron Age. These societies took advantage of access to
resources, especially in Andalusia, thus representing an early interest in establishing
wide-ranging Mediterranean contacts with both Phoenician and Italic populations.
The Tartessian culture, mythicized through Argantonios and Kolaios (Hdt. 4.152),
reveals an image of an orientalized society, midway between local traditions and
Phoenician influences, the latter being spread through colonies and factories at the
mouths of many Andalusian rivers. Conversely, the northeast of the Iberian penin-
sula was linked to southern France as a prolongation of the routes that connected
the peninsula to central Europe and northern Italy, hence allowing the circulation
of people and ideas. Contacts with southeastern France and with the dynamic local
entity Aquitania (which meant access to tin resources) represented an interest and an
external pole of attraction that led later to the founding of the phocaean-massaliote
colony of Emporion (Strabo 3.4.8). The eastern regions of the Iberian peninsula, set
between these two areas, show features of both groups that intermingle and develop
in different ways over time, even though the mouth of the river would shortly reveal
a specific aspect. This seacoast was more and more influenced by Phoenician trade
and broadened from the south towards the Ebro valley, and so it has traditionally
been connected with the impact that supposedly followed the founding of Ibiza by
the Phoenicians around 635 BCE (Diod. Sic. 5.16.23). Finally, the inland of the penin-
sula, apparently not as developed as the coastal regions during the Bronze Age, grew
quickly and became attractive during the fifth century.
Finally, the historical circumstances of the western Mediterranean and their
interpretive paradigms must be considered. Unfortunately, research has often mis-
taken Italic materials found on the Iberian peninsula for evidence of contacts with
the Etruscans (the same misunderstanding involving the southern part of France),
both for the precolonial and the archaic and late archaic periods. Even if the pres-
ence of Etruscan objects is marginal, their arrival on the Iberian peninsula must be
interpreted as the result of circuits that varied according to period and region: natives,
Semitic (Phoenician or Punic) dealers, Etruscans, and Greeks. A parallel is found in
the archaeological evidence. The local intermediation began between the seventh
and sixth centuries, and constituted the ultimate termination of the relations with the
Golfe du Lion in the west. Immediately afterward, the western part of the peninsula
began to participate in the great historical events from the late archaic to romaniza-
tion, according to both historical and archaeological sources. From a historical per-
spective, the role played by the Iberian peninsula (especially the southern part) is

considerable as an area strongly influenced by the Punic world, not to mention some
well-known topoi of the history of the ancient Mediterranean. The phocaean-massal-
iote colony of Emporion, the city of Saguntum, and the Ebro river were the setting,
limit, and reason for the beginning of the Second Punic War and, afterward, for the
romanization of the Mediterranean.
This is the explanation provided by current information and interpretation for the
arrival of Etruscan objects in the Iberian peninsula by means of native distribution,
Punic or Greek intermediation, and direct Etruscan trade.
2 Chronological sequence
The following chronologically organized interpretation is based strictly on the analy-
sis of archaeological data, since there is no written account of Etruscan presence in
the western Mediterranean.8
2.1 Before the sixth century
According to the available data, the presence of Etruscan materials on the Iberian
peninsula before the sixth century is demonstrated only by two fragments of Villano-
van pottery found in the Phoenician enclave of Huelva from the first quarter of the
eighth century, which can undoubtedly be interpreted as a result of wide-ranging
Phoenician trade, including even Sardinia.9 It is possible to add to these fragments
three bronze oinochoes of Rhodian type from a Phoenician-andalusian milieu dating
slightly later, from Granada and the necropolis of La Joya, in Huelva.10 These finds
must be seen as later evidence of the orientalizing trade that expressed the richness
of the Tartessian aristocracy as well as the power gained by those aristocracies who
kept up relationships with Phoenician colonizers. Another result of this process is the
ceramic imitation of a ribbed bowl from Peña Negra and the hybridization between a
ribbed bowl and an Orientalizing thymiaterion stand from Peñon de la Reina.11
Outside the southern peninsula, no evidence is found, while some other items,
traditionally considered as such, now need to be expunged. An Italic bronze sword of
the Terni type, allegedly from Bétera or Tortosa and dating around the eighth century,
has been interpreted as the most ancient evidence of contact with the Etruscan (or
Villanovan) world, but recently it has been proven to be a false provenance and pro-
8 Gran-Aymerich 1991, 136; Almagro-Gorbea 1992, 178.

9 González de Canales, Serrano and Llompart 2004, 98–99.
10 Jiménez-Ávila 2002.
11 Sciacca 2005.

posed an explanation for the presence of the sword in the Iberian peninsula as the
result of a nineteenth-century antiques sale.12
Very surprising is the rarity, in some places, and the absence, in others, of small
ornaments, in particular fibulae, which are quite common outside Italy beginning in
the sixth century. Even if fibulae dating earlier than the sixth century are still under
discussion for the northeast and are completely absent from archaeological evidence
in the rest of the peninsula, the problem persists for those dating to the first half
of the sixth century, mostly as to their filiation. A short catalogue of these fibulae
is available. They are of North Italic type, or at least not exclusively Etruscan, and
have been found around Empúries, dating to the sixth century.13 Thus they have been
interpreted in connection with overland relations with the communities of Golasecca
or Liguria, rather than with Etruscans. These contacts, noted in southern France, did
not represent a form of precolonial relations,14 but are most likely to be interpreted
as the result of the circulation of Italic items in the Golfe du Lion within a system
of “native” exchange.15 This situation explains a particular distribution of types and
some associations of materials during the sixth century in the northeast, which turns
out to be different from the rest of the peninsula, as demonstrated by their interaction
in subsequent times.
2.2 The sixth century
A very different impression emerges for the sixth century from excavations, which
increased after a review and the identification of some Etrusco-Corinthian and Etrus-
can materials found in nineteenth-century excavations in the necropolis of Empúries.16
Some imported Etruscan pottery found around the future colony of Emporion, settled
in 575, can be dated to the first quarter of the sixth century. This first pottery, which
is very rare, includes for the most part, amphorae of Py type 3a/3b17 and bucchero
kantharoi of Rasmussen type 3e,18 typologically old, but from a context to be placed
after the settlement of the Phocaean colony. From this very moment on, after an initial
decline in Etruscan imports, the percentage of Etruscan trade amphorae increases,
overtaking the percentage of Greek trade amphorae, whose numbers increase only
at the beginning of the fifth century.19 Pottery, always in a modest amount, can be
12 Brandherm 2007, 1 n. 4.
13 Graells 2010b.
14 Dedet and Py 2006, 129 fig. 4.1–7.
15 Graells 2013; Graells 2015.
16 An example in Graells 2010a, 75–78.
17 Aquilué et al. 2006, 179 and pl. 1.
18 Sanmartí, Asensio and Martín 2006, pl. 1.
19 Aquilué et al. 2006, 186–89.

Fig. 90.2: Etrusco-Corinthian vase from Puig de Sant Andreu, Ullastret, Girona
(after Sanmartí, Asensio and Martín 2006, fig. 3)
included among the series distributed in the Golfe du Lion during the same period,
mostly kantharoi and bucchero oinochoes and other artifacts including mortars and
Etrusco-Corinthian vases (Fig. 90.2). The limited import of Etruscan pottery in the
interior of Empúries includes a minor presence in the Vallés area, which had contacts
with the district of Empúries and southern France, and in the Ebro zone, where the
imports have been wrongly interpreted as a consequence of Phoenician trade.20 In the
south, Huelva continues to be the point of reference for some Phoenician workshops
where Etruscan imports are reduced to a group of kantharoi of Rasmussen type 3e and
some trade amphorae associated with Greek objects. This case falls within a Greek-
Ionian trade dynamic, according to scholarly interpretation, although an active Phoe-
nician commercial web could be imagined that involved Sardinia and the harbors of
Tyrrhenian Etruria.
On the other hand, metal objects have been found in the northeast. From the
interior of Empúries come respectively a chariot pole tip in the shape of a lion’s head
(Fig. 90.3), which has been considered a find from the necropolis of Portitxol (with
many problems concerning the interpretation),21 and a small number of metal items.
In both Emporion and Ullastret, remains of infundibula have been found, in Ullastret
20 Sanmartí, Asensio and Martín 2006, fig. 2; Graells 2010a, 71–78.

21 Sanmartí 1996.

Fig. 90.3: Bronze lion’s head from Emporion, l’Escala, Girona.

MAC-Barcelona (Photo Graells)
two situlas,22 and in Emporion possibly an omphalos bowl of the Cook type,23 which
includes both Greek and Etruscan banquet elements.
Outside this area, only an omphalos bowl of the Cook type,24 another bowl imi-
tating Etruscan models, and a ribbed pail (which cannot be considered Etruscan but
rather North-italic)25 were found inside a warrior’s grave of the second half of the sixth
century, as seen in southeastern France, hence showing a native interest in including
this kind of element among grave goods. This dynamic is normally disconnected from
Mediterranean trade circuits and represents an indigenous initiative connected to
land routes along the Golfe du Lion.26
On the other hand, direct Etruscan trade could explain the circulation of some
ceramic (amphorae and bucchero) spread along the coast from Castellón to the area
of Vallés (Fig. 49.2). It is interesting to underline the coincidence of some Naucratic
elements, such as scarabs and new year’s flasks (It. fiasche di Capodanno), with par-
allels in Gravisca and Pyrgi, especially if we consider relations between Naucratis and
this part of Etruria.27
22 Graells 2006.
23 Graells 2010a, 87–89; Graells and Armada 2011.
24 Graells and Armada 2011.
25 Graells 2010a, 92–93.
26 Graells 2013.
27 Almagro-Gorbea and Graells 2011.

2.3 The fifth century
In the fifth century, we observe a change in the process of Etruscan imports. Pottery is
reduced and confined to Punic contexts, with considerable representation of ampho-
rae of Py type 4, while the amount of tableware decreases and metal vessels are
strictly limited and assigned only to local elites. For this reason, this metal ware is
found neither in colonial contexts nor in the area under Punic influence, but solely in
emerging local contexts, associated with imports that can be connected to beverage
consumption28 and toiletries.29
While the first ceramic imports were localized in the interior of Emporion and
the first metal ware is found—following a model typical of southern France—inside
local contexts, during the fifth century we encounter emporic trade addressed to the
needs and tastes of the Iberian peninsula, which was possibly controlled by Etrus-
cans, as the considerable number of amphorae seems to suggest. This statement is
confirmed by the typological differences between the Etruscan metal vessels from
southern France and the ones from the Iberian peninsula during the second half of
the sixth and the entire fifth century, where neither embossed rim basins nor Schna-
belkannen (with one exception) nor a similar quantity of kantharoi or amphorae have
been found, but only certain types, including infundibula, strainers and olpai.
The infundibulum, perhaps produced in Volsinii (Orvieto) or Vulci, is the most
frequent Etruscan metal utensil among known objects,30 but its distribution seems
complex, since we know two from the northeast (Ullastret, Girona;31 Empúries,
Girona), while the other three examples come from the southeastern part of the
peninsula one from Xàbia, Alicante,32 an area with a predominant role in the recep-
tion of Etruscan pottery; and two more from the palace-sanctuary of Cancho Roano
(Fig. 90.4).33 Apart from these objects, the strainers stand out because they were all
found in the southeastern region, in inner Andalusia, while only one is present on the
coast. This, found in tomb 32 of the necropolis of Poble Nou (Villajoyosa, Alicante), is
associated with Attic black-figure pottery of the Haimon Group of the second quarter
of the fifth century.34 This example allows the dating of the others (Alcurrucén – Pedro
28 Graells 2008; Pozo 2003.

29 Roldán 1995–96.
30 Naso 2006a, 369.
31 Oliva 1976, 759 fig. 23.
32 Vives-Ferrándiz 2007; Botto and Vives-Ferrándiz 2006, figs. 55–56; Naso 2006a, 389 no. 57; Naso
2006b, 196 no. 55.
33 Botto and Vives-Ferrándiz 2006, fig. 23; Naso 2006a, 389 no. 56, 392 no. 68; Naso 2006b, 196 nos.
54, 66.
34 Marcos and Ruiz 2005, 77 fig. 3; Botto and Vives-Ferrandiz 2006, 144.

Fig. 90.4: Infundibulum from Cancho Roano, Zalamea de la Serena, Badajoz

(after Gran-Aymerich 2006, fig. 3)
Abad, Cordoba;35 Mirador de Rolando, Granada;36 Iznalloz, Granada37) and falls into
an emporium manner of trade, whose promoters can hardly be identified, although
the wreck from Sec strongly suggests a Punic38 leading role in dealing exclusively with
local aristocracies. The discovery of various Etruscan jugs support this statement.
Some of the finds that supporting this are the series of jugs with kouros handles,39
(Fig. 90.5) the Schnabelkanne from tomb 57 in the necropolis of Cigarrelejo,40 and
the contexts of the olpai with raised handles (El Oral;41 Alcurrucén-Pedro Abad,
Cordoba;42 Escuera, Alicante;43 Mirador de Rolando, Granada;44 two examples from
the ancient collection Saavedra, probably of Andalusian origin;45 Segóbriga, Cuenca;
and tomb 255 in the necropolis of Cabecico del Tesoro, Murcia46). The significance of
this distribution is the prominent role of inland Iberian elites, who are the only ones
35 Marzoli 1991; Pozo 2003.

36 Pozo 2003.
37 Pozo 2003.
38 Arribas et al. 1987.
39 Graells 2008.
40 Cuadrado 1987.
41 Garcia-Cano 1991.
42 Marzoli 1991, pl. I and II.
43 Llobregat 1982.
44 Arribas 1967.
45 Blázquez 1960.
46 Garcia-Cano 1991.

Fig. 90.5: Oinochoe handle from Málaga

(after Blanco 1965, pl. 31)
who accumulate and exhibit objects related to drinking. This should not be underes-
timated, since it shows a particular ideology of social achievement restricted to the
southeast of the Iberian world.47
2.4 The fourth century
In Punic colonies on the peninsula, in the fourth century the Etruscan component is
replaced by Punic products, which could rapidly supply even the interior of Empo-
rion. In Emporion itself a certain degree of Etruscan activity and presence remained,
as is demonstrated by a mirror engraved with the judgment of Paris48 (Fig. 90.6) and
by a series of bronze votive figures49 and a candelabrum foot with a votive inscription
(Fig. 90.7).50 In this century the Etruscans are almost absent from the western Medi-
47 Discussion in Bardelli and Graells 2012.

48 Almagro-Gorbea 1992, 177.
49 Castellanos 1996.
50 Gran-Aymerich 2006. The number of these bronze figures should now probably be reduced, since
it seems reasonable to exclude the doubtful “banqueteer” from the sanctuary of La Algaida and

Fig. 90.6: Etruscan mirror with image of Paris

from Emporion, l’Escala, Girona. MAC-Barcelona
(Photo Graells)
Fig. 90.7: Etruscan inscription on the foot of a candelabrum from Emporion,

l’Escala, Girona. MAC-Empúries (Photo Graells)
terranean, so this should be considered the time of the end of relations with them,
versus increasing Campanian and Punic trade. Nevertheless, the Etruscan presence is
demonstrated through important evidence of the circulation of mercenaries between
Etruria and the Iberian peninsula, such as two exceptional helmets found in a wreck
identify it as a fragment of a Campanian lebes. Even the attribution of another “banqueteer” from El
Raso is problematic (see Bardelli and Graells 2012).

Fig. 90.8: Lateral view of the bronze Etruscan

helmet from Les Sorres Shipwreck, Gavà,
Barcelona (after von Bothmer 1990, 113)
Fig. 90.9: Lateral view of the bronze Etruscan

helmet from Les Sorres Shipwreck, Gavà,
Barcelona (DAI-Madrid archive)
at the mouth of the Llobregat River, near Gavà.51 (Figs. 90.8–90.9). This explains the
diffusion and the use of the falcata, an Iberian weapon for which Etruscan origin and
subsequent local development have been proposed.52 This topic cannot be discussed
here, and these weapons are in no way direct or material evidence of Etruscan pres-
ence in the west. Finally, contemporary with the helmets are some Etruscan scarabs
a globolo found along the peninsular coast.53
51 Izquierdo and Solías 1991; Graells 2014, 107–114.

52 Quesada Sanz 1991, 475–521.
53 Almagro-Gorbea and Graells 2011.

2.5 The third century and the Roman conquest
The course of historical events in the Mediterranean influenced the western regions
in the third century, when we begin to find considerable amounts of imported Cam-
panian pottery, while Etruscan trade is very rarely present and then only in isolated
cases, in the late third and the second centuries, underlining even in the west the end
of the Etruscan world and the beginning of Roman domination.54
3 Conclusions
The shortage of Etruscan archaeological evidence and its scattered distribution, con-
sisting of a mixed selection of pottery and other materials, have hindered analysis of
complex relations. The fact of Etruscan objects in the Iberian peninsula forces us to
consider every possible variable, depending only on the historical moment and the
region.
Therefore, while we cannot date an Etruscan presence before the middle of the
seventh century, the earliest evidence can be interpreted in connection with native
peoples regarding metal ware in the northeast—Etruscan for the interior of Emporion
and Phoenician for the area of Tartessos. Immediately afterward, beginning in the
middle of the sixth century, and with the growth of the influence of Emporion, Pho-
caean trade monopolizes Etruscan imports and redistributes them in the northeast,
while in the southern area the volume of imports decreases and is shown only by some
amphorae in Phoenician colonies. This situation changes rapidly during the fifth
century, as Iberian elites begin to accumulate metal vessels and symposium items,
combining them with Greek vessels, as a result of an emporium style of trade. Only in
the fourth century does the limited number of Etruscan materials outside Emporion
mark the end of these relations, if they had not already been interrupted at the end of
the sixth century. In fact, after the beginning of the fifth century, the reduced number
of Etruscan objects gives way to a selection of refined items, representing the prolon-
gation of relationships based on gifts, supported by the success of the Phocaeans and
the development of the Punic enclave on the peninsula.
54 Mansel 1998; 2004.

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Bordeaux, 2–5.6.2011, edited by A. Colin and F. Verdin, 727–736. Bordeaux: Aquitania.
—. 2014. Mistophoroi ex Iberias. Una aproximación al mercenariado hispano a partir de las
evidencias arqueológicas (s.VI – IV a.C.). Venosa: Osanna.
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de León Occidental”. Madrider Mitteilungen 55: 212–315.
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Musée des Antiquités Nationales de Sant-Germain-en-Laye.” StEtr 74: 17–37.
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—. 2006b. “Etruscan and Italic Finds in North Africa, 7th–2nd century BC.” In Naukratis. Greek
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Colour plates
Colour plates 1739
Plate 1: Populonia, tridrachm, silver.

Plate 4: Populonia, 10 units, silver.
O(bverse)/chimera
O/Gorgon’s head; under, X
5th cent.
Middle 5th cent.
Plate 2: Populonia, tridrachm, silver.

O/wild-boar Plate 5: Populonia, 50 units, gold.
5th cent. O/lion’s head
Late 5th – early 4th cent.
Plate 3: Populonia, didrachm, silver.

O/sea monster
5th cent. Plate 6: Populonia, didrachm, silver.
O/gorgon’s head
First half 3rd cent.

1740 Colour plates
Plate 7: Populonia, didrachm, silver. O(bverse)/ Hercle Heracles; R(everse)/club

Plate 8: Populonia, bronze. O/head of Sethlans; R/hammer and tongs: vetalu; pufluna
Plate 9: Populonia, 50 units, bronze. O/Nethuns and L; R/griffin

Late 4th-early 3rd cent.

Colour plates 1741
Plate 10: Volterra, dupondium, bronze. O/head of Culsans; R/club; velathri

Early 3rd cent.
Plate 11: Arretium-Cortona, as, bronze. O/Augur’s head; R/ax and hammer
Early 3rd cent.
Plate 12: Bronze. O/Black African; R/elephant

Late 3rd cent.

1742 Colour plates
Plate 13: Bronze

O/male head; R/running fox-like dog
Late 3rd cent.
Colour plates 1–13: Florence, National Archaeological Museum (photos SAT)

Colour plates 1743
Plate 14: Tarquinia, Tomba dei Leoni Rossi: front wall

(Photo D-DAI-ROM-F82.124)
Plate 15: Tarquinia, Tomba dei Leoni Rossi: entrance wall


1744 Colour plates
Plate 16: Tarquinia, Tomba degli Auguri: front wall

Plate 17: Tarquinia, Tomba degli Auguri: right wall


Colour plates 1745



1746 Colour plates
Plate 20: Tarquinia, Tomba degli Auguri: left wall

Plate 21: Tarquinia, Tomba della Caccia e Pesca: first chamber


Colour plates 1747
Plate 22: Tarquinia, Tomba della Caccia e Pesca: interior

chamber (Photo D-DAI-ROM-F82.280)
Plate 23: Tarquinia, Tomba della Caccia e Pesca: interior

chamber, front wall (Photo D-DAI-ROM-F82.286)

1748 Colour plates
Plate 24: Tarquinia, Tomba della Caccia e Pesca: interior chamber, left wall
Plate 25: Tarquinia, Tomba della Caccia e Pesca: interior chamber,

left wall, detail (Photo D-DAI-ROM-F82.284)

Colour plates 1749
Plate 26: Tarquinia, Tomba della Caccia e Pesca:

interior chamber, right wall (Photo D-DAI-ROM-F82.282)
Plate 27: Tarquinia, Tomba delle Leonesse: general view


1750 Colour plates
Plate 28: Tarquinia, Tomba delle Leonesse: front wall

Plate 29: Tarquinia, Tomba delle Leonesse: front wall


Colour plates 1751
Plate 30: Tarquinia, Tomba delle Leonesse: right wall

Plate 31: Tarquinia, Tomba delle Leonesse: left wall


1752 Colour plates
Plate 32: Tarquinia, Tomba del Barone: front wall

Plate 33: Tarquinia, Tomba del Barone: right wall


Colour plates 1753
Plate 34: Tarquinia, Tomba del Barone: left wall

Plate 35: Tarquinia, Tomba del Cacciatore: general view


1754 Colour plates
Plate 36: Tarquinia, Tomba del Cacciatore: right wall, detail

Plate 37: Tarquinia, Tomba del Cacciatore: right wall, detail


Colour plates 1755
Plate 38: Tarquinia, Tomba dei Baccanti: general view

Plate 39: Tarquinia, Tomba del Triclinio, front wall


1756 Colour plates
Plate 40: Tarquinia, Tomba Giglioli, front wall

Plate 41: Tarquinia, Tomba Giglioli, entrance wall


Colour plates 1757
Plate 42: Tarquinia, Tomba del Convegno: front wall (Photo † G. Bellucci)
Plate 43: Tarquinia, Tomba del Convegno: front and left wall (Photo † G. Bellucci)

1758 Colour plates
Plate 44: Tarquinia, Tomba del Convegno: front wall, detail (Photo † G. Bellucci)
Plate 45: Tarquinia, Tomba del Convegno: left wall (Photo † G. Bellucci)

Colour plates 1759
Plate 46: Tarquinia, Tomba del Convegno: left wall, detail (Photo † G. Bellucci)
Plate 47: Tarquinia, Tomba del Convegno: left wall,

detail (Photo † G. Bellucci)

1760 Colour plates
Plate 48: Tarquinia, Tomba del Tifone: pillar


Authors
University, Catania (Italy)
albaros@unict.it
Petra Amann
University, Vienna (Austria)
petra.amann@univie.ac.at
Laura Ambrosini
Consiglio Nazionale delle Ricerche, Rome (Italy)
laura.ambrosini@isma.cnr.it
Holger Baitinger
Römisch-Germanisches Zentralmuseum, Mainz am Rhein (Germany)
baitinger@rgzm.de
Gabriele Baldelli
Rome (Italy)
gabriele.baldelli@gmail.com
Hilary Becker
Binghamton University, New York (USA)
hwbecker@binghamton.edu

University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia (USA)
MBecker@wcupa.edu
Vincenzo Bellelli
vincenzo.bellelli@isma.cnr.it
Enrico Benelli
enrico.benelli@isma.cnr.it
Martin Bentz
University, Bonn (Germany)
m.bentz@uni-bonn.de
Massimo Botto
massimo.botto@isma.cnr.it
Stefano Bruni
University, Ferrara (Italy)
stefano.bruni@unife.it
1762 Authors
Fiorenzo Catalli
Rome (Italy)
fiorenzo.catalli@beniculturali.it
Luca Cerchiai
University, Salerno (Italy)
lcerchiai@unisa.it
Armando Cherici
Arezzo (Italy)
Armandocherici@tin.it
Teresa Cinquantaquattro
Soprintendenza Archeologia della Basilicata, Potenza (Italy)
teresaelena.cinquantaquattro@beniculturali.it
Fabio Colivicchi
University, Kingston (Canada)
colivicf@post.queensu.ca
Alessandro Corretti
Scuola Normale Superiore, Pisa (Italy)
a.corretti@sns.it
Columbia University, New York (USA)
fda2101@columbia.edu

Milan (Italy)
raffaele.demarinis@unimi.it
Giuseppe Maria Della Fina

Fondazione Claudio Faina, Orvieto (Italy)
giuseppe.dellafina@tin.it

Ecole des Hautes Etudes en Sciences Sociales, Paris
cecilia.dercole@ehess.fr
Markus Egg
egg@rgzm.de
Patrizia von Eles

Imola (Italy)
patrizia.voneles@gmail.com

Authors 1763
Adriana Emiliozzi
Rome (Italy)
adriana.emiliozzi@alice.it
Fernando Gilotta
University, Santa Maria Capua Vetere (Italy)
fernando.gilotta@unina2.it
Margarita Gleba
McDonald Institute, Cambridge (England)
mg704@cam.ac.uk

graells@rgzm.de
Martin Guggisberg
University, Basel (Switzerland)
Martin-A.Guggisberg@unibas.ch
University, Limoges (France)
haackml@yahoo.fr
Maurizio Harari
University, Pavia (Italy)
ararat@unipv.it
Laurent Haumesser
Musée du Louvre, Paris (France)
Laurent.Haumesser@louvre.fr
Lars Karlsson
University, Uppsala (Sweden)
lars.karlsson@antiken.uu.se
Erich Kistler
University, Innsbruck (Austria)
erich.kistler@uibk.ac.at
Martin Korenjak
martin.korenjak@uibk.ac.at
Cristiano Iaia
University, Newcastle upon Tyne (England)
cristiano.iaia@ncl.ac.uk

1764 Authors
Olivier Jehasse
University, Corsica (France)
jehasse@univ-corse.fr
Claire Joncheray
University, Aix-Marseille (France) ATER
claire.joncheray@free.fr
Emiliano Li Castro
Civitella d’Agliano, Viterbo (Italy)
e.lica@teletu.it
Natacha Lubtchansky
University, Tours (France)
natacha.lub@wanadoo.fr
Adriano Maggiani
Florence (Italy)
maggiani@unive.it
Luigi Malnati
Soprintendenza Archeologia dell’Emilia-Romagna, Bologna (Italy)
luigi.malnati@beniculturali.it
Daniele F. Maras
Rome (Italy)
danielemaras@email.it
Arnaldo Marcone
University Roma 3, Rome (Italy)
amarcone@uniroma3.it
Mauro Menichetti
mmenichetti@unisa.it
Laura Maria Michetti

University Sapienza, Rome (Italy)
Laura.Michetti@uniroma1.it
Marina Micozzi
University, Viterbo (Italy)
marinamicozzi@unitus.it
Alessandro Naso
University Federico II, Naples (Italy)
alessandro.naso@unina.it

Authors 1765
Albert J. Nijboer
University, Groningen (The Netherland)
a.j.nijboer@rug.nl
Erik Nielsen
Franklin College, Lugano (Switzerland)
enielsen@fus.edu
Marco Pacciarelli
University Federico II, Naples (Italy)
marco.pacciarelli@unina.it
Carmine Pellegrino
carmineca@libero.it
Phil Perkins
Open University, Milton Keynes (England)
P.Perkins@open.ac.uk
Patrice Pomey
Centre Camille Jullian, Aix-en-Provence (France)
Pomey@mmsh.univ-aix.fr
Marco Rendeli
University, Sassari (Italy)
rendeli@uniss.it
Christoph Reusser
University, Zürich (Switzerland)
christoph.reusser@access.uzh.ch
Robert Rollinger
robert.rollinger@uibk.ac.at
Nigel Spivey
Emmanuel College, Cambridge (England)
njs11@cam.ac.uk
University, Lecce (Italy)
gianluca.tagliamonte@unisalento.it
Jean-Paul Thuillier
Paris (France)
jean-paul.thuillier@ens.fr

1766 Authors
Gerhard Tomedi
gerhard.tomedi@uibk.ac.at
Mario Torelli
Perugia (Italy)
mario.torelli1937@gmail.com
Tiziano Trocchi
Soprintendenza Archeologia dell’Emilia-Romagna, Bologna (Italy)
tiziano.trocchi@beniculturali.it
Christoph Ulf
Innsbruck (Austria)
christoph.ulf@uibk.ac.at
Gregory Warden
Franklin College, Lugano (Switzerland)
gwarden@fus.edu
Andrea Zifferero
University, Siena (Italy)
andrea.zifferero@unisi.it

Index
Literary sources
Inscriptions
Geographic and personal names
Figures
Colour plates
Index
Literary sources
The abbreviations of the Oxford Classical Dictionary, 4th edition, have been adopted.
Ael(ianus) Aristid(es)
NA Or.
12.46: 42, 506 48.27.472: 1118
VH Aristonicus
1.20: 965 footnote 52 165 van der Valk: 510
9.16: 1396
Aristox(enus)
Aesch(ylus) F 124 Wehrli: 1361, 1389
Eum.
566–69: 509 Arn(obius)
567–68: 37 Adv. Nat.
3.40: 43, 302
Amm(ianus) Marc(ellinus) 7.26: 43, 312
23.5.10: 43
25.2.7: 360 Arr(ian)
Anab.
Aphthonius 7.15.4: 1389
6.60.1–6 Keil: 239
Ath(enaeus)
App(ianus) 1.23d: 214
B Civ. 1.28b: 971 footnote 1
5.49: 559 4.153c: 242 n. 30
92.426: 693 footnote 30 4.153d: 38
4.184a: 509, 512
Schol. in Ar(istophanem) 12.514f: 835 footnote 16
Ran. 12.517d: 144 footnote 3
133: 509 12.517d–518b: 38, 185 footnote 30, 1112
12.518a–b: 144 footnote 3
Arist(oteles) 12.518c: 506
[Oec.] 13.607f: 506
2.1349b: 965 footnote 52, 1004 15.700c: 37, 971 footnote 1
Pol. Caes(ar)
3.5.10–11: 39, 151, 550,1020, 1700 B Afr.
1259a: 454 44.3: 374 footnote 11
1280a: 151
B Gall.
Arist(otelis) Fr(agmenta) ed. V. Rose 4: 562 footnote 4
60: 39 6: 562 footnote 4
607: 39, 214 6.16: 278
608: 39, 506
Callim(achus)
Aet.
fr. 93 Pfeiffer: 1009, 1654
1770 Index
Cato Nat. D.
Agr. 1.71: 365
5.4: 364f.
Rep.
Catull(us) 2.8.14: 125
39.11: 218 footnote 42
39.40: 188 footnote 43 Clem(ens) Al(exandrinus)
Paedagogus
Censorinus 2.4.42.2: 509
DN
4.13: 364 Protr.
11.6: 43 2.19.1: 1203
14: 361 2.23.21: 1204
14.6: 43
17: 361 Strom.
17.5–6: 43 1.16.74.6: 509
17.6: 45 footnote 53,
538 footnote 1 Cod(ex) Theod(osianus)
9.16.1: 366
Cic(ero) 9.16.2: 366
Cat. 9.16.4: 366
31.13: 15 16.10.7: 366
16.10.9: 366
Div.
1.12: 15 Comm(enta) Bern(ensia) Luc(ani)
1.30: 511 1.636: 364
1.72: 358
1.72.7: 279 Corpus Agrimensorum
1.92: 21, 41 footnote 33 Romanorum ed. C. Thulin
1.119: 708 footnote 84 pp.
2.9: 365 10.20–11.8: 42
2.50: 280, 288, 358, 131.3–132.5: 42
1218 footnote 11
2.51: 365 De vir.ill.
2.52: 708 footnote 84 6.1: 125 footnote 6
2.149: 365 36: 1110
Fam. Dio Cass(ius)

6.6.3: 364 44.4.3: 123 footnote 7
8.6.4: 1136 footnote 31 49.43: 366
9.24: 708 footnote 84 51.24.4: 123 footnote 7
13.4.1: 559 56.25.5: 366
57.18.3–5: 538
Har. Resp. 67.16.2: 366
25: 360 fr. 33: 1209
Leg. Diod(orus) Sic(ulus)

2.19.21: 711 footnote 93 2.88.4–5: 1141
2.21: 360, 365 4.56.3: 38

Index 1771
4.56.5: 1142 1.64.4–5: 286

5.9.4–5: 1653 2.5.5: 129 footnote 47
5.13–14: 550 2.9.2: 1107 footnote 24
5.13.1: 1017, 1216 footnote 5 2.37.2: 125 footnote 18
5.13.1–2: 455 2.37.5: 125 footnote 18
5.13.3: 1650 footnote 22 2.42.2: 125 footnote 18
5.13.3–5: 156 2.43.2: 125 footnote 18
5.13–14: 550, 1644 footnote 11 2.55: 1129 footnote 2
5.40: 39, 188 footnote 43, 509, 1104 2.70.3: 1484 footnote 23
5.40.3–5: 1014 3.46: 149 footnote 25
5.40.4: 218 footnote 42 3.46.3: 873, 1656
5.75.2: 480, 1135 footnote 29 3.46.5: 125 footnote 16
10.3.1: 1205 footnote 11 3.47.1–2: 995
11.51: 372 footnote 5, 943, 953, 1388, 1655 3.48.2: 125 footnote 17
11.88.4–5: 454, 1017 3.51.4: 135 footnote 74
12.21.1: 214 footnote 28 3.57.1: 135 footnote 74, 76, 77
12.31: 1416 3.58: 395
14.1: 156 3.58–59: 1544
14.93: 1147 3.59.2–4: 135 footnote 74
14.93.2: 1103 3.59.4: 135 footnote 76
14.102.4: 1129 footnote 1 3.61.1: 126 footnote 28, 31
15.14: 395 3.61.2: 135 footnote 78
15.14.3: 395, 1017, 1102 3.61.3: 126 footnote 30
15.14.3–5: 1133 footnote 19 3.62.2: 127 footnote 32
16.31: 554 4.27.2: 135 footnote 74
16.82: 1147 4.27.4: 135 footnote 74
16.82.3: 1389 4.6ff.: 989 footnote 18
20.11.1: 1704 5.3.2: 130 footnote 52, 131 footnote 56
7.2–3: 39
Dion(ysius) Hal(icarnassensis) 7.3.1: 551, 1388, 1397
Ant. Rom. 7.12.3: 1132 footnote 11
1.11: 1020 9.18.2: 135 footnote 77
1.17: 17 9.5.4: 187 footnote 39, 189 footnote 48, 989
1.17–18: 14 footnote 8 footnote 19, 1106
1.18: 17, 144 n. 2, 154 footnote 61 9.5.4–5: 619
1.18.4: 401 12.1.2: 1132 footnote 11
1.20: 17, 395 12.5.1: 123 footnote 6, 7
1.22: 541 13.10.1: 125 footnote 19
1.25.2: 37 13.10.3–13.11.12: 1131 n. 9
1.25.5: 36 footnote 8 16.3.6: 652
1.26–30: 40
1.27–30: 16 Dionys(ios) Per(iegeta)
1.28: 13 footnote 7 100–103: 15 footnote 10
1.29: 16 457–60: 1641 footnote 2
1.30: 16, 537
1.30.2: 36, 394, 1106 footnote 23 Enn(ius) ed. J. Vahlen
1.30.3: 36, 633 Sat.
1.64.4: 129 footnote 47 fr. 65: 506

1772 Index
Eur(ipides) FRH
Heracl. 1 F 12: 39
830–31: 37, 509 1 F 15–17: 39
3 F 1.13: 39
Phoen.
1377–78: 37, 509 Gell(ius)
5.5.1: 364
Rhes. 5.12.12: 363
988–89: 37, 509
GGM
Festus 1.19–20: 1388
Gloss. Lat.
55.12: 923 Gromatici Veteres ed. C. Lachmann
85: 125 n. 23 1, 348–350: 190 footnote 53
334: 123 1, 350: 42
358: 279
359.14: 280 H(ero)d(o)t(us)
1.27: 16
Flor(us) 1.28: 16
1.12.17.1: 135 1.56–57: 12, 17 footnote 16
1.16: 640, 1110 n. 23 1.57: 15, 27
1.94: 13, 37, 373
FGrH 1.136–137: 15
1 F 59: 37 1.145: 15
1 F 61: 1421 1.163: 453
2A F 56, 151: 1494 1.163–167: 13
2.560 F 3: 506 1.165: 1643 footnote 9
4 F 3: 13 footnote 7 1.165–166: 945
4 F 4: 38 1.166.1–2: 1700
4 F 71c: 38 1.166–167: 38, 372 footnote 5
4 F 92: 38 1.167: 222, 223, 1009, 1021
6 F 6: 129 footnote 45 1.167.2: 129 footnote 46
23 F 3: 41 4.152: 151, 639, 954,
70 F 137a: 38 994 footnote 44, 1018,
87 F 119: 39 1629, 1723
115 F 204: 38 6.17: 1704
115 F 354: 38 7.147.2: 1600
140 F 21: 15 footnote 11, 38 footnote 12
328 F 100: 38, 129 footnote 45 Heraclid(es) Pont(icus)
556 F 1: 39 footnote 20 fr. Rose
556 F 42: 1387 611.44: 39
556 F 43: 1361
566 F 1: 38 Hes(iod)
566 F 85: 38 Theog.
840 F 23: 660 footnote 39 1011–1016: 36, 622
1013–1016: 287
FHG 1016: 12
IV.421 fr. 44: 1017 footnote 20
IV.557 fr. 50: 1110

Index 1773
Hom(er) Juv(enal)
Il. 6.396–397: 366
7.241: 236 n. 6 10.74: 1207
18.596: 241 n. 24 10.101: 1136 footnote 31
23.254: 493
24.796: 493 Kassel-Austin, PCG
Cratinus
Od. fr. 139: 37
7.167: 842 footnote 35 Pherecrates
15.415: 546 fr. 90: 1690
24.71–84: 841 footnote 27
Lactantius Placidus
Hor(ace) ad Stat. Theb.
Epist. 4.224: 510
2.2.180: 971 footnote 1 6.382: 510
Sat. Livy
1.6.1: 15 1.2: 694 footnote 34
1.2.3: 129 footnote 47
H(e)s(y)ch(ius) 1.5: 995
l 836 Latte: 509 1.8.3: 126 n. 30, 135 footnote 78, 631
1.15.5: 1129 footnote 2
Hyg(inus) 1.23.8: 371
Fab. 1.34.1: 125 footnote 16
274: 510 1.34.9: 360
1.34.11: 125 footnote 17
Hymn. Bacch. 1.35.7–10: 222
7–8: 36 1.35.8: 223
1.48.5: 125
Isid(orus) 2.34.5: 1132 footnote 11
Etym. 2.44.7–12: 1107
3.21.3: 509 4.12.9: 1132 footnote 11
9.2.86: 1005 4.17–20: 123 footnote 6
10.159: 44 4.17.1: 123 footnote 7
18.4.2: 510 4.19.2: 123 footnote 7
18.14: 44 4.19.5: 123 footnote 7
18.57: 44 4.20.2: 124 footnote 7
4.23.5: 134 footnote 71, 135 footnote 73
Jul(ius) Obs(equens) 4.25.4: 1132 footnote 11
3: 361 4.25.7: 134 footnote 71, 135 footnote 73
22: 361 4.37: 1396
29: 360 4.37.1–2: 1416
71: 360 4.52.5: 1132 footnote 11, 13
4.61.2: 134 footnote 71, 135 footnote 73
Just(inus) 5.1.3: 124, 131 footnote 55, 134 footnote 71, 986
Epit. 5.1.4: 136
20.1.11: 287 5.1.5: 136
20.5.10: 18 5.1.6: 47, 124, 130, 277, 357
5.15: 361

1774 Index
5.17.6: 134 footnote 71, 135 footnote 73 28.45.13–18: 1014, 1132 footnote 12, 1215
5.19–22: 1103 28.45.15–16: 456
5.28: 1147 28.45.15–18: 1224 footnote 3
5.30.8: 1129 footnote 1 28.45.16–17: 675, 1106, 1325
5.33: 694 footnote 34, 1131 footnote 8 29.13: 1228 footnote 13
5.33.1: 125 footnote 19 29.19.13–18: 1229 footnote 16
5.33.1–6: 553 30.26.12: 1228 footnote 13
5.33.2–5: 1131 footnote 9 31.12.6: 361
5.33.5–11: 18 33.36.1–3: 189, 1110
5.33.11: 306, 542 33.36.1–31: 1110
5.36: 553, 640 39.8.3–4: 1204
5.45.8: 1129 footnote 2
5.50.3: 670 Luc(ianus)
6.2.2: 134 footnote 71, 135 footnote 73 Catapl.
7.12.5: 554 25: 38
7.15.10: 1009
7.19.6: 1219 footnote 17 Lucanus
7.21.9: 135 footnote 73 Phars.
7.25.26: 1147 1.606–608: 360
8.3: 1207
9.16–17: 661 Lycoph(ron)
9.30: 506 Alex.
9.36: 187 footnote 39 805–806: 38
9.36.12: 1107 1238–49: 38
9.41.4: 1132 footnote 12 1351–61: 39
9.41.6: 134 footnote 71, 135 footnote 75 Schol. in Lycoph. Alex.
10.3.2: 557, 1109 footnote 37 806: 38
10.5.13: 1109 footnote 37
10.5.3: 189 footnote 51 Lydus
10.16.3: 135 footnote 75 Mens.
10.42.7: 842 footnote 36 4.73: 511
10.46.10–12: 1109 footnote 37
21.65.5: 1208 Ost.
22.1.10: 1206 1.3: 358
22.3.3–6: 1325 2.6.B: 288
23.17.8–11: 1229 footnote 16 27–38: 43
23.17.11: 558 54–58: 43
23.36.10: 364 59–70: 43
25.1: 365
26.3.12: 555 Macrob(ius)
27.16.15: 364 Sat.
27.23.2–4: 360 1.15.13: 126
27.24.2ff.: 131 footnote 56 3.5.1: 362f.
27.24.4: 188 footnote 45 3.7.2: 43, 126 footnote 25, 360
27.26: 558 3.20.3: 43
27.37.6: 361, 364
27.38.6: 1228 footnote 13 Marius Victorinus
28.10.4–5: 1228 footnote 13 1.16.14: 239

Index 1775
Mart(ialis) Petron(ius)
Spect. Sat.
1.72: 526 71.6: 225
Mart(ianus) Cap(ella) Peutinger Table

1.2.45–60: 43 2.4–5: 454
1.45–61: 312
Phlegon
Mir. ausc. Mir.
93: 447, 449, 452 Fr. 25: 365
94: 1110 footnote 39
105: 454, 1142 Phot(ius)
Lexicon
Nep(us) o 615: 1205
Att. l 284: 510
18: 708 footnote 86
Pind(ar)
Nigidius Figulus ed. A. Swoboda Pyth.
fr. 83: 43f. 1.71–75: 37
1.72ff.: 551
Oros(ius) 1.140: 1655
4.5.3: 1207 footnote 23
4.5.3–5: 640, 1110 Pl(ato)
Leg.
Ov(id) 742a: 159 footnote 91
Am. 7.796c: 243
3.2: 230 803e: 243
813b: 243
Ars am.
1.111: 506 Plt.
1.135–62: 230 291e: 1592 footnote 37
299c: 1589
Fast. 301a: 1592 footnote 37
6.501: 1003 301c: 1592 footnote 37
6.545–47: 1004
Symp.
Met. 727b–c: 1205 footnote 10
576–77: 15
Plaut(us)
Paus(anias) Curc.
2.21.3: 510 483ff.: 364
5.12.5: 42, 124, 1682
7.10.11: 558 Poen.
10.11.3–4: 1654 463ff.: 364
16.7: 1654 746ff.: 364
Pers(ius) Plin(y) (the Elder)

3.27–28: 703 footnote 75 HN
2.24: 366

1776 Index
2.140: 360, 550 –– 15.3–17.4: 1131 footnote 9

2.143: 359
3.14.112: 18, 1493 –– Caes.
3.15.115–16: 1024 –– 63.1–7: 708 footnote 84
3.20.133: 18
3.51: 396 –– Galb.
3.52: 696 –– 24.4–5: 365
3.60: 1396
3.70: 695 footnote 40, 1361 –– Mar.
3.75.199: 1642 footnote 4 –– 41.2: 1199
3.81: 457
3.120: 154 footnote 61 –– Rom.
7.125: 656 footnote 29 –– 2.4: 362
7.209: 371, 374 –– 11: 311
7.56.201: 510 –– 17.1: 923
8.74.194: 125 footnote 23 –– 18: 42
10.19: 365 –– 25.4: 1129 footnote 2
11.18.55: 126
11.55: 360 –– Sull.
12.2.5: 1596 –– 7: 361
16.172: 506
28.15: 1205 footnote 8 –– Ti. Gracch.
33.13: 1022 footnote 42 –– 8.9: 189
34.16: 1133 footnote 20
34.26: 660 footnote 38 Poll(ux)
34.34: 701 footnote 64, 1174, 1209 Onom.
34.45.157: 127 footnote 33 4.85–86: 509,
34.52: 1230 footnote 19 512 footnote 41
34.142: 457 7.86: 37
35.15: 46 7.86.9–7.87.1: 1690 footnote 26
35.152: 546, 963 7.92–7.93.1: 1690 footnote 26
35.157: 311, 963
36.85: 240 Polyb(ius)
1.6.4–6: 39
Plin(y) (the Younger) 1.88.8–12: 1649 footnote 20
Ep. 2.17: 1396, 1419
2.20.3–5: 366 2.17.1–3: 39
2.23.12–14: 1225f.
Plut(arch) 3.9.2: 1395
Quaest. conv. 3.22.4–13: 1700
8.7.1: 42 3.22.5: 1019
8.7.7–27: 1205 footnote 10 3.22–23: 628
6.53: 285 footnote 34,
Quaest. Graec. 888 footnote 21
21: 42
Polyaenus
Vit. Strat.
–– Cam. 5.2.21: 965 footnote 52
–– 15.3: 125 footnote 19

Index 1777
Pomponius Mela 8.285: 123, 791 footnote 62

De chorographia 8.345: 1205 footnote 8
2.65: 393 8.475: 125, 131 footnote 57, 135 footnote 78
8.505: 126 footnote 28
Prop(ertius) 9.587: 1642 footnote 6
4.1.29: 125 footnote 18 10.167: 286
10.184: 394
Pseudo-Skylax 10.200: 695 footnote 46
Peripl. 10.202: 125, 131 footnote 57, 135 footnote 78
17: 418 footnote 26 11.9: 131 footnote 57, 135 footnote 78
11.567: 39, 1020 footnote 33
Ptol(emaeus mathematicus)
Geog. Ecl.
3.2.1–7: 1642 footnote 4 4.43: 126 footnote 25
4.4: 360
Quint(ilian) 9.46: 361, 713 footnote 103
Inst.
12.10.1: 971 footnote 1 Serv(ius) Dan(ielinus)
12.10.7–9: 70 4.56: 362
4.166: 360
Rut(ilius) Namat(ianus) 6.72: 359
1.351–366: 457 8.526: 361
1.530–540: 400 10.198: 695 footnote 46
Scholia Veronensia Sid(onius) Apoll(inaris)

Verg. Aen. Epist.
10.183: 41 5.7.7: 125 footnote 16
10.200: 41, 712 footnote 98
Sil(ius Italicus)
Sen(eca) Pun.
Helv. 5.9–13: 510
7.2: 25 footnote 60 8.483–488: 127
QNat. Sol(inus)
2.32.2: 42, 278, 312 37.151–52: 1642 footnote 4
2.39–41: 42
2.39.1: 359 Soph(ocles)
2.47: 359 Aj.
2.49: 359 17: 509
2.49.2: 126
fr. 270 Radt: 37
Serv(ius) fr. 598 Radt (Triptolemos): 1361, 1387
ad Aen.
1.2: 1218 footnote 11 Stat(ius)
2.278: 125 footnote 15, 135 footnote 78 Theb.
2.649: 125 footnote 15 3.648: 509
3.168: 286 6.404: 509
7.697: 123 7.630: 509
8.270: 36 8.745–66: 966

1778 Index
Schol. ad Stat. Dom.

Theb. 16: 366
5.515: 1208
Galb.
Steph(anus) Byz(antius) 19.1: 365
s.v. Αἰθάλη: 37
s.v. Δικαιάρχεια: 1017 footnote 20 Iul.
s.v. Νῶλα: 1389 footnote 82 81: 708 footnote 84
Stob(aeus) Tib.
Flor. 63.1: 366
4.20.72: 41
Vesp.
Strabo 5.2: 360
3.4.8: 1723
4.6.8: 1600 Tac(itus)
5.1.7: 154 footnote 61, 401, 1026 Ann.
5.2.2: 47 footnote 64, 125 footnotes 16 and 17, 2.32: 366
135 footnote 78, 149 footnote 25, 512 4.9: 285 footnote 34
5.2.2–9: 40 4.55: 15
5.2.3: 395 11.15: 41, 364, 365, 698
5.2.4: 14, 15 footnote 11, 38
5.2.5: 1215 Tatianus
5.2.6: 456, 1016 Ad Gr.
5.2.8: 395, 397 2: 509
5.3.5: 144
5.4.2: 1398, 1488 TGrF
5.4.3: 1395f., 1419 4 fr. 270: see Sophocles
5.4.6: 1017 footnote 20
5.4.8: 1421 Tert(ullian)
5.4.13: 402, 1361, 1374 Apol.
5.6: 1142 24.8: 42
6.1.1: 1643 footnote 8
6.1.5: 1560 footnote 35 Theodoret of Cyrrhus
6.2.2: 14, 38, 545 footnote 7, 1654 Graec. affect. cur.
6.2.10: 1653f. 1.19: 509
8.6.20: 149 footnote 25
9.3.8: 154 footnote 61, 401 Theoph(rastus)
17.1.28: 70, 971 footnote 1 Hist. pl.
17.1.33: 1600 5.8.1–3: 1648 footnote 18
Suda Theopomp(us Historicus)

ο 798 Adler: 1205 fr. 354 Jacoby: see FGrH 115 F 354
τ 1195 Adler: 44
Thuc(ydides)
Suet(onius) 1.5: 144
Claud. 4.24: 15
42: 41 4.109: 14f., 38 n. 15
42.2: 179 footnote 1 6.3.2–3: 1682

Index 1779
6.62: 15 5.577–593: 889 footnote 25

6.88: 38 7.647ff.: 129 footnote 47
6.88.6: 705, 1142, 1656 8.79–80: 15
6.103: 38 8.481ff.: 129 footnote 47
6.103.3–4: 1142 8.479: 394
7.33.4: 1143 8.505–506: 126 footnote 28
7.53–54: 38 8.526: 509
7.53.2: 553, 705 10.173: 457
7.54: 706 10.201–03: 1526
7.57.11: 706
G.
Tzetzes in Lycoph. 2.193: 188 footnote 43, 218 footnote 42
250: 509 2.193–194: 506
1318: 1494
Verrius Flaccus
Val(erius) Max(imus) res. Etr.
1.1.1: 41 fr. 1 P.: 545 footnote 6
1.3.3: 365
1.4: 1147 Vitr(uvius)
3.4.2: 149 footnote 25 De arch.
4.5: 708 1.7.1–2: 40
8.11.3: 708 footnote 84 2.1.3: 723 footnote 1, 734 footnote 32
9.1: 640, 1110 2.7.3: 692
9.1.2: 1207 footnote 23 4.6.6–4.7.5: 40
5.12.1: 391, 393
Varro 6.3.1: 40
Ling.
5.55: 45 footnote 53 Xen(ophon)
5.8: 40 Lac.
5.8.46: 135 7,4–6: 159 footnote 92
5.30: 123
5.32: 40 Zonar(as)
5.46.7: 290 8.7: 44, 1110, 1207 footnote 23
5.143: 311 8.7.4–8: 640
Vell(eius) Pat(erculus) Zos(imus)

1.7: 1397 6.41.1–3: 360
Verg(il), Virgil
Aen.
3.96: 27 footnote 73
5.545–603: 238

1780 Index
Inscriptions
Etruscan inscriptions Ta 1.16: 708 footnote 85
CIE Corpus Inscriptionum Etruscarum Ta 1.17: 364
8: 95 Ta 1.107: 558, 1229 footnote 16
437: 470 footnote 15 Ta 1.184: 1204 footnote 2
2647: 253 Ta 6.1: 874 footnote 15
5167: 689 footnote 15 Um 1.7: 359f.
5427: 708 footnote 85 Vc 2.33: 1148
5430: 1148 Vc 2.34: 1148
5566: 708 footnote 85 Vs 0.23: 689 footnote 15
6314: 129 footnote 48 Vs 4.8: 1207
6315: 129 footnote 48
6316: 129 footnote 48 ET2 Etruskische Texte. Editio minor, edited by G.
6421: 1540 footnote 18 Meiser, 2014. Hamburg: Baar.
8601: 105 Af 8.1–8: 1210
8602: 1541 footnote 26 AS 7.2: 1080 footnote 7
8603: 1542 footnote 27 AT 1.30: 184 footnote 23
8629–8676: 1406 footnote 77 AT 1.141: 184 footnote 23
8728–8746: 1422 footnote 177 AT 1.148: 184 footnote 23
8730: 1414 footnote 122 AV 1.13: 184 footnote 23
8889–8925: 1544 footnote 38 Cl. 1.777: 1109 footnote 36
10001: 255 footnote 14 Cl 1.1179: 1109 footnote 36
10012: 1133 footnote 17 Cl 1.1459: 1109 footnote 36
10159: 246, 252 Cl 1.1565: 1109 footnote 36
10870: 1207 Cl 1.1768: 1109 footnote 36
11134: 1206 footnote 15 Co 3.3–4: 1112 footnote 50
11135: 1206 footnote 15 Cr 4.4: 188 footnote 46
11178: 1148 Cr. 4.5: 188 footnote 46
11445: 266 OA 2.2: 873, 994 footnote 46
12023–12078: 989 footnote 19 Pa 4.1: 1210
Pe 1.306–12: 184
CII Corpus Inscriptionum Italicarum Pe 1.852–855: 1113
446: 1137 footnote 41 Pe 5.2: 184 footnote 22
Pe 8.4: 184 footnote 22
ET Etruskische Texte. Editio minor, edited by H. Po 6.1: 995
Rix, 1991. Tübingen: Narr. Ta 1.164: 184
Ar 4.4: 364 Ta 1.164–168: 1112
AS 7.2: 1080 Ta 1.166–68: 184
AT 1.32: 1204 footnote 2 Ta 5.6: 184 footnote 22
Cl 2.8: 106 Ta 6.1: 994 footnote 46
Co 1.5: 687 footnote 9 Ta 7.12: 996 footnote 55
La 2.2: 105 Vc 6.1: 996
Pe 1.313: 704 footnote 78 Ve 2.7: 996 footnote 56
Po 0.2: 1147 Vs 3.12: 996 footnote 52

Index 1781
Ve 3.13: 992 footnote 30 Latin Inscriptions

Vs 1.37: 991 footnote 29 AE L’Année épigraphique
Vs 1.51: 996 1930, 52: 365
Vs 1.66: 991 footnote 29 1994, 612: 680 footnote 27
Vs 1.85: 991 footnote 29
Vs 1.94: 991 footnote 29 CIL Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum
Vs 1.112: 991 footnote 29 I
Vs 1.165: 994 440: 1121 footnote 12
Vs 3.12: 996, 1109 footnote 36 651: 652 footnote 16
Vs 7.11–12: 1108 footnote 31 990: 713 footnote 104
Vs 7.38: 1108 2037: 704 footnote 78
Vt 3.3: 1112 footnote 47 3903 d: 690 footnote 17
REE Rivista di Epigrafia Etrusca (in StEtr) II

56, 1991, 82: 1109 footnote 35 5439: 365
61, 1995, 22: 989
63, 1997, 47: 708 VI
75, 2009, 87: 1555 537.4: 1207
76, 2010–2013, 370: 153 footnote 48 1105: 713 footnote 104
1964: 365
TLE Testimonia Linguae Etruscae, ed. M. 1965: 365
Pallottino, 19682. 2161: 365
Florence: La Nuova Italia. 10213: 713 footnote 106
36: 124 footnote 8 XI
38: 124 1848: 703 footnote 71
155: 149 n. 30, 872 footnote 15 1905: 700 footnote 60
204: 689 footnote 15 1963: 704 footnote 78
634: 687 footnote 9 6708.2: 1121 footnote 12
692: 1217 7287: 1207
694: 1137 footnote 39, 7979: 700 footnote 60
1494 footnote 83
761: 873 footnote 15 XIII
829: 130 footnote 53 1668: 41
866: 1540 footnote 16
898: 1133 footnote 17 ILLRP Inscriptiones Latinae Liberae Rei Publicae,
ed. A. Degrassi, 1957–63. Florence: La
Greek Inscriptions Nuova Italia.
IG Inscriptiones Graecae 40: 1121 footnote 12
II, 2 186: 713 footnote 104
1263: 1147 237: 1210 footnote 46
XI 1197: 652 footnote 16
148, 73–74: 1155

1782 Index
ILS Inscriptiones Latinae Selectae, ed. H. 3038: 713 footnote 104

Dessau, 1892–1916. Berlin: Weidmann. 5019: 703 footnote 71
1334: 693 footnote 30 8833: 365

Index 1783
Geographic and personal names

Footnotes were not considered.
Aborigines 17 Afuna, Larth 1218

Abruzzo 172, 408, 1533, 1543, 1545f., 1690, 1703 Agamemnon 331, 669, 1070
Accesa/Accesa lake 25, 66, 399, 435ff., 544, Agathocles 1155, 1704
547, 549, 913, 987, 1006, 1015, 1108, 1302, Ager 18, 99, 133, 633, 640, 668, 671, 714, 771,
1320ff. 1009, 1054f., 1085, 1089, 1106, 1120, 1175,
Achaeans 25, 151, 287 1177, 1204, 1217, 1219, 1252f., 1257, 1274,
Acheloos 1053, 1061 1340, 1361, 1494
Achilles 85f., 88, 239, 241, 473, 479f., 669, 840, –– Caeretanus 396, 1274
844f., 947, 1080, 1084, 1122, 1514 –– Cosanus 153, 1220
Achle 86, 88, 473 –– Faliscus 99, 667, 1051, 1063, 1082, 1149, 1252,
Acilius Glabrio, Ma. 1195 1257, 1259, 1340, 1533, 1544
Acqua Acetosa Laurentina 416, 576, 923 –– Romanus antiquus 1253
–– – Tomb 93: 602 Agostiniani, Luciano 103, 105
Acqua Santa 962f. Agrios/Agrius 12, 287, 621
Acquafredda 1255 Agri, river 1552, 1554f.
Acquarossa 66, 212f., 242, 418f., 499, 547, 549, Agro
601, 628, 632, 637, 798, 837, 844, 905f., –– Chiusino 1322ff.
912, 987, 991, 1273, 1320 –– Fiorentino 1302, 1330, 1332
Acragas 551 –– Picentino 1359, 1362, 1366, 1374f., 1388f.
Adad 342, 348, 350f. Agylla 394, 945, 1260
Adda, river 1501 Aigner Foresti, Luciana 28
Adembri, Benedetta 1082 Aiola 1324
Adige, river 812, 1567, 1587 Aithale 448
Adonis 311, 1109, 1148, 1178, 1205, 1271 Aivas 86, 88
Adria 18, 110, 143, 154, 300, 305, 401, 638f., Ajax 83, 85, 88, 473, 480
955, 1010, 1102, 1110, 1141, 1144, 1146f., Akerström, Ake 25
1152, 1449, 1508, 1517, 1524, 1565, 1576f., al-Mina 581, 584, 600, 607, 1690,
1629 Alalia 38, 129, 154, 223, 231, 550, 1020f., 1264
Adriatic coast 18, 401, 553, 639, 852, 922, Alaliè, see Alalia
925, 927, 930, 955, 1024, 1026, 1147, Alba Longa 123, 362
1397, 1441, 1457, 1471f., 1557, 1569, Alban Hills 569, 1163, 1241, 1245, 1533, 1535f.
1576, 1688 Albano, lake 1252
Adriatic sea 25, 401, 553, 1024, 1058, 1141, Albegna, river 397, 1244, 1247, 1252, 1299, 1312
1143, 1146, 1152f., 1245, 1454, 1458f., Albegna, valley 397, 635, 665, 672f., 675, 1052,
1479, 1487 1054, 1245, 1251f., 1275, 1277f., 1281f.,
Aecae 1557 1299, 1346
Aegean sea 384, 541, 548, 1517, 1697 Albinius, L. 670
Aegina/Aeginatans 70, 954f., 1002, 1144, 1271, Alcimus 506, 508
1687 Alcurrucén 1728f.
–– Sanctuary of Aphaia 1687 Aleria, see Alalia
Aeneas 38, 40, 286f., 393 Alethna 1103, 1175
Aeolian Islands 571, 1560 Alethnas, Avle 1175
Aequi 1102 Alexander I of Molossis 660
Aeschylus 509 Alexander the Great 661
Aethalia 1642 Alexandretta 600

1784 Index
Algae 396 1439, 1444, 1449f., 1458, 1471f., 1479,

Algeria 1695, 1702, 1705 1503, 1517, 1537, 1553, 1555, 1576, 1585,
Alghero 590, 1672, 1675 1595, 1642
Alianello 1554, 1556f. Aphrodite 156, 291, 293, 296, 304, 396, 1002,
Allumiere 181, 438, 539, 762 1005, 1008, 1018, 1205, 1271, 1387, 1409,
Alpi, see Alps 1449, 1686, 1699
Alpi Apuane 401, 427, 1245 Apluni 1109
Alps 18, 20, 22, 173, 425, 537, 542, 740, 800, Apollo 65, 151, 173, 289f., 293, 296ff., 302, 304,
813, 816, 931f., 971, 1131, 1504, 1522, 306f., 363, 469, 473, 480, 490, 627, 639,
1567, 1569, 1571ff., 1585, 1587f., 1594, 944f., 953, 1002, 1005, 1008, 1067, 1122ff.,
1600, 1607–1612, 1615, 1617–1624, 1626, 1207f., 1210, 1257, 1259, 1266, 1269, 1271,
1628–1631, 1704, 1716 1283, 1368, 1377ff., 1381, 1387, 1679, 1681,
Alsace 932, 1622 1685, 1687f.
Alsium 394f., 555f., 670, 1219, 1252, 1267, 1341 Apollonia 1697
–– Monteroni 148 Apollonios, see Apluni
Altheim, Fritz 26 Aposa, river 1440
Aman 601 Appenwihr 932, 1504, 1571f., 1612, 1614f.
Amathus 584 Apulia/Apulians 555, 558, 571, 656, 930, 1072,
Amina 1382 1086ff., 1093, 1095, 1146, 1153, 1559
Amphipolis 14 Apunie, Mamarce 1540
Ampolo, Carmine 1700 Aquileia 672, 676, 1147
Ampurias 145, 1021, 1618, 1709, 1714, 1717 Ara della Regina see Tarquinia
Amthura, Avile 1444 Arafat, Karim 1034, 1035
Amulius 123 Arbedo 1703
Amyntor 14 Arcadia 14
Anagni 1533, 1544 Arcadians 14
Anatolia 113f., 342f., 600, 836, 840, 1260 Arcatelle (necropolis) see Tarquinia
Ancona 415, 1152, 1480, 1493 Ardea 576, 1539
Andalusia 581, 589, 1722f., 1728f. Arenosola 1368
Andrén, Arvid 65 Ares 235, 297, 966, 1005
Anina, family 1104, 1169 Arezzo 55, 58, 71, 226, 250, 297, 306, 361,
Annifo di Foligno 926 427, 463, 467, 544, 547, 549, 552, 556,
Annio da Viterbo 54 674, 1049f., 1059f., 1063, 1066, 1149,
Antemnae 576, 650 1162–1165, 1179, 1192, 1200, 1215, 1299,
Antenor 1143, 1325, 1329, 1704
Anthesteria 1145 –– Via della Società Operaia 1179
Antibes 382, 1014, 1020, 1699, 1714f. Argant(h)onios, king 833, 1723
Anticleides of Athens 15 Argentario 394, 397, 1245, 1252,
Antium 144, 1147, 1539 Argonauts 38, 454, 652, 844, 863, 865, 1081f.,
Antonielli, Ugo 20 1142
Antonius, Lucius 559, 694 Argos 734, 1146, 1703
Antonius, Marcus 559 Ariadne 237–240, 861, 992, 1164
Anzi 1555ff. Ariano Polesine 401
Ap(a)lu 296ff., 302, 306, 469, 473, 1208, 1446 Ari(c)cia 550, 1163, 1542
Apelles 551, 655f., 1141ff., 1646 Ariminus, river, see Marecchia, river
Apennines/apenninic 18, 20, 486, 543, 545, Ariminum 468, 1461, 1683
548, 553, 674, 812, 813, 934, 1024, 1050, Arimnestos 124, 1682f., 1691
1081, 1144, 1146, 1239ff., 1245f., 1248, Aristodemos/Aristodemus 666, 1416
1299, 1311, 1325, 1332, 1359, 1361, 1383, Aristonicus 510

Index 1785
Aristonothos 376f., 381, 622, 843, 863, 936 Atys 15, 16, 37
Aristophanes 509, 1149 Aubet, Maria Eugenia 1672
Aristotle 39, 151, 222, 506, 550, 1004, 1020, Aulos 39, 87, 224, 226, 506, 1006
1700 Augustus, emperor 270, 366, 647, 677, 680,
Aristoxenus 1361, 1389 694ff., 699, 701, 704, 707, 710, 713, 1102,
Arlena, river 291 1200, 1267, 1287
Armento 1554, 1556 Aurelius Cotta, L. 673
Arna 552, 556, 1287 Aurunci 1396, 1418
Arno, river 398f., 401, 427, 539, 543, 639, 855, Ausa, valley 1459, 1472
1143, 1152, 1239, 1241f., 1245, 1248, 1287, Ausculum 468
1299, 1310ff., 1325, 1332, 1343, Auser, river, see Serchio, river
Arpi 1557f. Ausones/Ausonians 16, 1395f., 1418
Arretium, see Arezzo Austria 3, 4, 233, 238, 495, 1592f., 1599
Arrone, river 1246, 1346, Avella 1359, 1414, 1419, 1423, 1553
Arruns of Chiusi 553, 1131 –– San Nazzaro 1423
Artas 1143 –– San Paolino 1423
Artemis 157, 239, 293f., 300, 1005, 1008, 1683 –– – 1/1995B: 1423
Artimino 547, 549, 552, 556, 1312, 1330ff.
Artumes 298, 300, 1052, 1208, 1269 Babylonia/Babylonians 342, 352, 1389
Arzos 1086 Baccano 420
Asclepius 1118, 1121ff. Bacchanales 1195
Ascoli Satriano 1557f. Bacchus 36, 363, 948, 1203f.
Ashurbanipal 199 Bad Dürkheim 1628, 1704
Ashursharrat 199 Badii, Gaetano 437
Asia central 157 Baetica 439
Asia Minor 17, 25, 265, 464, 647, 944f., 1165, Baggiovara 1449
1230, 1264, 1271 Bagnolo San Vito, see Forcello di Bagnolo San
Assisi 1287 Vito
Assisium, see Assisi Balagna 1646
Assurbanipal, see Ashurbanipal Balearic Islands/Balearics 546, 590
Astarte 129, 294, 550, 1003f., 1018, 1021, 1266, Balkan Peninsula/Balkans 17, 23, 800
1700 Baltic sea 800, 1303, 1573, 1630, 1641
Atelier des petites estampilles 1087 Bandieri, Giovanni 1506f.
Atena Lucana 1554, 1556f. Banditaccia (necropolis), see Caere
Athena 293, 466, 470, 510, 863, 952, 966, 1005, Banditella (necropolis), see Marsiliana
1376, 1379, 1688 Banti, Luisa 85
Athenaeus 38, 42, 506, 509, 512 Banzi 1554f., 1557
Athens/Athenians 12, 14ff., 38, 87, 129, 151, Baragiano 1554, 1556f.
327f., 333, 395, 542, 551, 553, 646, 648, Baratti Gulf 333, 399, 433f., 439, 1147, 1216,
670, 950, 954, 964, 981, 992, 1003, 1026, 1308ff.
1031, 1033, 1038, 1058, 1062, 1080, 1091, Barbarano 544, 628, 1085
1131, 1141–1145, 1147f., 1264, 1273, 1514, Barbarians 14, 16, 19, 42, 227f., 457, 551, 553,
1546, 1566, 1645, 1647f., 1656, 1672, 557, 692, 943, 953, 1112, 1388
1689f. Barbiton 515
–– Parthenon temple 958, 1062, 1149 Barfield, Lawrence H. 1507
Atlantic sea 589, 1573, 1609, 1714, 1716 Barsanti, collection 414
Attica 154, 945, 1033f., 1043, 1402, 1447 Bartoloni, Gilda 2, 594, 802, 1255, 1306
Atticus Pomponius, T. 708 Basch, Lucien 386
Atunes 1109 Basento, river 1552, 1554

1786 Index
Basilicata, see Lucania Bismantova 543, 1437

Basques 21, 111 Bithynia 1091
Basse-Yutz 1624 Bitia 1673ff.
Bastia 1641 Bitti 1671
Batino, Sabrina 1407 Black Sea 1036, 1092, 1095, 1679
Bavaria 1614f., 1617, 1623 Blera 230, 309, 556, 1073, 1125, 1263,
Bazzano 1545 1273f.
Beazley, Sir John Davidson 82, 85, 88, 1026, Bliquez, Lawrence 524ff., 532
1085, 1148, 1517, 1521, 1690 Bloch, Raymond 25, 1004
Beekes, Robert 25 Bocca d’Arno 400
Beilngries 1615f. Boccatoio, river 400
Bellini, collection 1505 Boeotia 1091
Bellona 1087, 1122 Bohemia 1607, 1609f., 1617, 1621, 1626,
Bellovesus 1446 1628–1631
Belmonte Piceno 927 Boii 554, 1144, 1450
Beloch, Julius 21, 1395, 1397 Bologna 64, 147, 154, 158, 222, 227, 321, 329,
Benelli, Enrico 1107, 1111, 1415 334, 378f., 418, 473, 494, 496ff., 511, 513,
Bengodi 397 537, 543, 577, 591, 593, 596, 601, 634, 740,
Bentivoglio 1444 742, 744f., 749, 761, 786, 789, 812f., 815,
Bérard, Claude 87 854, 876, 887, 890, 930ff., 934, 973f., 985,
Bérard, Jean 26 987, 989, 993f., 1024, 1031, 1035, 1039ff.,
Berges, Dietrich 1702 1043ff., 1121, 1123, 1130f., 1163, 1332,
Berlin 964, 978, 982, 1413 1437–1440, 1444f., 1447, 1454, 1456, 1458,
Bernabò Brea, Luigi 571 1462f., 1467ff., 1471f., 1482, 1489, 1503ff.,
Bernardini, Paolo 1674 1517, 1521, 1567ff., 1573, 1576, 1594, 1596
Bes 1515 –– Arnoaldi 1441, 1445, 1504
Bescheid 1626 –– Arsenale Militare 497, 876, 890, 1441, 1445
Bétera 1724 –– Benacci 498, 786, 1439ff.
Bettona 1093, 1217, 1287f. –– Castenaso 1437f., 1440f., 1444
Bevagna 1287 –– Certosa 1039ff., 1042ff., 1446, 1515, 1521
Béziers 1714, 1716f. –– Fiera 231, 996, 1060, 1438ff.
Bianchi Bandinelli, Ranuccio 65, 73f., 85 –– Giardini Margherita 973f., 1445f.
Bianco Peroni, Vera 1563 –– Piazza Azzarita 1440f., 1445f.
Biedano, river 1253, 1263 –– Piazza VIII Agosto 1440, 1445
Bientina 1152, 1248 –– San Francesco hoard 744
Bietti Sestieri, Anna Maria 799 –– San Vitale 1438–1440, 1503
Bisaccia 1373, 1553 –– Savena 1438
Bisenzio 146f., 196, 234–237, 282f., 539, 544, –– Tombs
547, 549, 561, 564, 566, 572f., 576f., 592, –– – 5 Arsenale Militare or tomba degli Ori: 497,
747, 779, 789f., 932, 1251f., 1275, 1282, 876, 890, 1441, 1445
1286 –– – 10 Romagnoli: 591
–– – Bucacce 1286 –– – 39 Benacci Caprara: 786, 1440
–– – Grotte del Mereo 1286 –– – 56 Benacci Caprara: 498
–– – Olmo Bello 1286 –– – 182 San Vitale: 1439
–– – San Bernardino 933, 1286 –– – 382 Fiera: 1439
–– Tombs –– Via Belle Arti 1441, 1445, 1467
–– – Bucacce 2: 236 –– Villa Cassarini 1123, 1439, 1446
–– – Olmo Bello 2: 236, 592, 789f. Bolsena 58, 291, 298, 302, 309, 473, 741, 1008,
–– – Olmo Bello 22: 234f., 779, 790 1120, 1122, 1162, 1204, 1207, 1282, 1285

Index 1787
Bolsena, lake 498, 557, 675, 802, 1062, 1162, Brutus Capitolinus 1067
1241, 1246, 1251f., 1273, 1275, 1282, 1286 Brygos 329, 956, 1406f.
Bomarzo 172, 675, 1073, 1125, 1623 Bucacce, see Bisenzio
Bonamici, Marisa 1088 Bucchero 82, 150, 152f., 156, 159, 200, 209,
Bonfante, Larissa 488 222ff., 240, 242, 288, 291, 326f., 361,
Bonghi Jovino, Maria 66, 288, 290, 1269 381f., 736, 844, 864f., 888, 904, 907f.,
Bononia 1450 910ff., 916, 925, 936, 972, 979f., 996,
Bopfingen 1623 1006, 1008, 1257, 1264, 1278, 1283,
Borgo 725, 729, 1539, 1588 1286f., 1301, 1313, 1322, 1328, 1333, 1344,
Borgo Panigale 1440 1359, 1375, 1381ff., 1404, 1417, 1442,
Borgo Tossignano 1455f. 1449, 1504, 1506, 1539ff., 1544, 1551f.,
Bormann, Eugen 713 1554f., 1557–1560, 1618f., 1643f., 1647,
Bosa 1675 1655, 1657–1660, 1673–ff., 1679, 1685ff.,
Bouloumié, Bernard 1699 1697–1700, 1702, 1709, 1712–1717, 1725ff.
Bourges 1716 Bucchero sottile 979, 1300, 1314, 1318, 1322,
Bovino 1557f. 1538, 1558, 1697
Bracciano, lake 1241, 1246, 1252, 1257 Bucelli, Pietro 95
Bradano, river 1552, 1554 Bufolareccia, see Caere
Braida di Vaglio 1554 Bugge, Sophus 97
–– Tomb 106 1555 Burgstallkogel 1591f.
Branchidae 960 Burkhardt, Klaus 1699
Brasidas 14 Bruna, river 425f., 1248
Brauron 239 Budapest 1569
Breccia 1503 Buonamici, Giulio 23, 35, 37, 100, 103
Brendel, Otto 75, 954f., 964 Buonarroti, Michelangelo 1, 1766
Breno 1501 Burgundy 1520, 1612
Brenta, river 1587 Bylany culture 1612, 1617
Brescia 1501f., 1505
Brijder, Herman 1685 Ca’ Borghese 1454
Briquel, Dominique 1705 Cabecico del Tesoro 1729
Britain 21 Cacu 362, 1206, 1224
British School at Rome 667 Cadiz 1021, 1696,
Brittany 155 Caecina, Aulus 45, 125, 312, 358, 364, 545, 695,
Brizio, Edoardo 24, 1445 711, 1221
Brolio 488, 1326, 1329 Caecina, family 1103, 1447
Bronze Age 6, 20, 26, 111, 113, 147, 167, 281, Caere 65, 75, 105, 124, 128f., 131, 133ff., 148,
425, 427, 437f., 486, 537–540, 543, 545, 150f., 153f., 157, 169, 172, 175, 183, 188,
561–567, 569–573, 575, 592, 745, 747, 753, 202, 209, 211, 214, 222ff., 231, 250, 252,
761f., 780, 788, 796f., 800f., 812, 815, 817, 262f., 267, 269f., 285, 294, 296, 302,
819, 821, 1244, 1251f., 1255, 1258, 1260, 321ff., 326, 329, 334f., 361, 372, 376,
1267, 1269, 1274, 1282, 1286, 1299, 1306, 378f., 382, 384, 391, 394–397, 401, 412,
1309, 1310, 1340, 1343, 1364, 1399, 1437, 415, 419f., 422, 445, 474, 476–ff. , 481,
1439, 1453, 1457–1459, 1481, 1501, 1565, 511, 513ff., 544, 546, 548ff., 552, 554–557,
1585–1588, 1593, 1619, 1624, 1641f., 1669, 561, 564, 566, 572, 575f., 604, 618, 623,
1671, 1681, 1723 627, 630ff., 634, 636ff., 650, 668, 670,
Brumfiel, Elizabeth 804 689f., 694, 696ff., 706, 709, 729, 817,
Bruna, river 425f., 438, 1248 838, 840–844, 852–855, 857f., 860–865,
Bruni, Stefano 400, 1087, 1333 870f., 874ff., 880f., 888, 892, 896f., 901,
Brunn, Heinrich von 82 904, 911, 915ff., 923ff., 936, 943, 945,

1788 Index
953f., 964ff., 976, 983, 987, 995, 1003, –– – Sarcofagi (Sarcophagi) 134, 183
1007, 1009, 1014, 1016, 1018, 1020f., 1024, –– – Scudi e Sedie (Shields and Chairs) 63, 169,
1026, 1031, 1033, 1053f., 1057, 1065f., 513
1073, 1085ff., 1091, 1093, 1095, 1104, 1106, –– – Triclinio (Triclinium) 63, 242, 513, 957, 959,
1125, 1135, 1137f., 1148f., 1153, 1161, 1163, 1104
1167, 1176f., 1191, 1206–1209, 1215, 1219, –– – Vasi Greci (Greek Vases) 183, 187
1224, 1231, 1245f., 1251f., 1257, 1260–1267, –– Via degli Inferi 1260
1274, 1277f., 1283, 1300, 1308, 1313f., –– Vigna Parrocchiale 150, 631f., 636, 1261, 1265
1318, 1322, 1341f., 1345f., 1348, 1375, 1403, Caeretanus amnis 396
1418, 1420, 1535, 1537–1542, 1544f., 1574, Caesar, C. Iulius 278, 306, 677, 680, 707f., 710,
1644, 1648f., 1657ff., 1674, 1679, 1684, 712
1686, 1688, 1695–1697, 1699f., 1702, 1705, Caesar, Gaius 1220
1713f., 1718 Caesar, Lucius 1220
–– Banditaccia 187, 321, 870f., 874, 946, 1260, Caesennius Sospes, L. 694
1262, 1264f. Cafates, Laris 1493
–– Bufolareccia 1260 Cagliari 590, 1674f.
–– Casalaccio 1254, 1256 Caicna, see Caecina
–– Cava della Pozzolana 1260f. Cairano 1367, 1373, 1555, 1557, 1559
–– Laghetto (I–II) 874, 1260 Cala Gonone 596
–– Migliorie di San Paolo 1260f. Calabria 452, 569, 581, 588, 751, 763, 799f.,
–– Monte Abatone 603, 863f., 1260 1365, 1375, 1557, 1560, 1593, 1595, 1682
–– Monte Abbadoncino 1260f. Calamis 70
–– Ponte Coperto 422 Calatia 1404, 1412, 1414, 1419f., 1423
–– Ponte Vivo 422 –– Tomb
–– Sant’Antonio 296, 474, 729, 896f., 1053, 1135, –– – 201: 1419
1137, 1207f., 1265f., 1671 –– – 296: 1419f.
–– Sant’Antonio, temple A 1052 Calavii, family 1423
–– Sorbo 321, 1260f. Calcata 1544
–– Tombs Cales 1175, 1225, 1417f.
–– – Animali Dipinti (Painted Animals) 63, 842, –– Migliaro 1418
863, 1262 Caligula, emperor 713
–– – Letti e Sarcofagi (Beds and Sarcophagi) 183 Callimachus 1009, 1654
–– – Capanna (Hut or with Thatched Roof) 736 Callithea 16
–– – Caronte (Charons), see Greppe Sant’Angelo Callon 70
–– – Cinque Sedie (Five Chairs) 209, 285, 623, Calore, river 151, 1555, 1557
841, 892 Calus 297, 300, 303f.
–– – Clavtie/Claudii 1106 Caltabellotta 1663
–– – Colonnello 1260 Caltagirone 1662
–– – Comune 1260 Camarina 1654, 1658–1661
–– – Dolii (Dolia) 183 Camilli, Andrea 400
–– – Grande Tumulo II (Great Tumulus II) 870f. Campana, Augusto 706
–– – Greppe Sant’Angelo 650, 1057 Campani/Campania 37, 39, 110, 124, 146, 151,
–– – Iscrizioni Graffite (Inscriptions) 618 155, 157f., 189, 208f., 227, 250, 254, 288,
–– – Leoni Dipinti (Painted Lions) 842, 863 319, 321, 323, 328, 332, 402, 408, 537,
–– – Nave 1 (Ship 1) 1262 543, 548, 550f., 562f., 575, 585, 587f., 598,
–– – Regolini-Galassi 326, 329, 412, 415, 853, 607, 625, 635f., 640, 645, 666, 696, 742,
855, 858, 860, 864, 880, 1031, 1262 744f., 751, 761, 772, 779, 799f., 817, 822f.,
–– – Rilievi (Reliefs) 175, 511, 1057, 1167, 1267 852, 855, 857, 874, 922, 934, 936, 973,
–– – San Paolo 1: 224, 844, 865, 1262 981, 983, 1020, 1023, 1067, 1087, 1095,

Index 1789
1141, 1145, 1149, 1152f., 1155, 1176, 1182, –– – Quattordici Ponti 328, 1399, 1405, 1409
1216, 1225, 1343, 1359–1389, 1395–1423, –– – Siepone 635, 1406f.
1533, 1535, 1537, 1551–1560, 1645, 1648ff., –– – 722: 1402f.
1659ff., 1665, 1679, 1682, 1703f. –– – 1504: 1405
Campanian roofing system 1411 –– – 1505: 1405
Campassini 730, 732 Caput Adriae 170, 1565, 1570, 1572f., 1577,
Campetti, see Veii 1610
Campidano 1675 Carambolo 1696
Campiglia Marittima 399, 428, 463, 1308 Caria 25
Campigliese 449, 1016 Carinthia 1591, 1598f.
Campo Nuovo 437 Carlantino 1557f.
Campo Pianelli 543, 1437 Carpathian area 167, 815, 1609
Campora San Giovanni 1557, 1560 Carrara 1231
Camporeale, Giovannangelo 66, 85, 437, 913, Carthage/Carthaginians 37, 39, 48, 143, 146,
1304, 1487, 1569, 1596 150–153, 156ff., 335, 386, 399, 546, 550f.,
Campovalano 926, 1480, 1545, 1690, 558, 607, 638, 855, 971, 994, 1018, 1020f.,
–– – Grave 119: 1689 1065, 1149, 1223ff., 1228f., 1264, 1266,
Camucia 1328f. 1541, 1641, 1644–1649, 1672f., 1676,
Cancho Roano 881, 1728 1695–1705, 1714f.
Cannicella, see Orvieto –– Santa Monica (necropolis) 153, 994, 1701
Canina, Luigi 1251 –– Salammbô tophet 1705
Canosa 1554, 1557, 1559 Casa delle Anfore, see Marsiliana
Cantilena, Renata 332 Casa Nocera 417, 1314
Capaneus 966, 1004 Casalaccio, see Caere
Cape Casale del Fosso, see Veii
–– Ateneo 1395 Casale di Villa Rivalta 1149, 1521
–– Miseno 1395 Casale Marittimo 416, 486, 493, 547, 601, 623,
Capena/Capenates 123, 544, 547, 549, 552, 556, 630, 840f., 858, 865, 891, 905, 1304,
654, 667f., 681, 921, 923–926, 930, 1085, 1312f., 1318f., 1620
1251–1253, 1257ff., 1283, 1399 –– – Tomb A 171, 930
Capestrano 1620 Casalecchio 418, 1441, 1444, 1447, 1457
Capo Linaro 396 Casalfiumanese 1472
Capodifiume 1362 Casalmarittimo, see Casale Marittimo
Capraia, island 399, 1239, 1241 Casalmoro 1501
Caprifico 576, 1542, Casalvecchio 630, 638, 1313
Capua 110, 151, 252, 298, 320, 328f., 402, 413, Cascia 1152
537, 543, 558, 575, 587, 627, 635, 640, 658, Casentino 1239, 1245
761, 799, 822, 857, 973, 981, 1007, 1141f,, Casier 1570
1152, 1229, 1359, 1376, 1379, 1395–1423, Casilinum 558, 1229
1552 Cassius, Dio 538
–– Alveo Marotta 1400, 1406, 1417 Cassius Hemina, L. 695
–– Cappuccini 1399f., 1459, 1555 Castel
–– Fondo Patturelli 627, 1007, 1400, 1408ff. –– d’Asso 184, 420, 549, 552, 555f., 1102, 1105,
–– Fornaci 1399f., 1403, 1406 1273
–– Tombs –– di Decima 593, 602, 607, 852, 857
–– – Brygos 329, 1406 –– Tomb 15: 607
–– – Dutuit Tomb, see Quattordici Ponti Tomb –– di Pietra 438
–– – Lebete Barone’s 1406 –– Goffredo 1506
–– – Nuovo Mattatoio 1: 1401 –– Rubello 1285

1790 Index
–– San Mariano 408, 410f., 413f., 417, 975, 1287, 1617–1621, 1624, 1626, 1628f., 1631, 1663,
1558 1695, 1703, 1723
Castelfranco Emilia 1438, 1447 Central Italy 6, 17, 26, 114, 157, 166, 171, 197f.,
Castellace 575 201, 208, 245, 320, 408, 448, 468, 516,
Castellazzo della Garolda 1501, 1523f. 537, 539, 562, 569, 582, 591, 593, 595,
Castelletto Ticino 934, 1501, 1504f., 1571, 1573 600ff., 645–661, 677, 681, 801f., 812f.,
Castelluccio di Pienza 633 845, 911, 916, 933, 1119, 1131, 1161, 1164,
Castellina del/sul Marangone 439, 544, 547, 1174, 1197, 1219, 1224, 1401, 1404, 1412,
549, 552, 556, 628, 870 1469, 1533–1547, 1566f., 1585f., 1593,
Castellina in Chianti 54, 547 1608–1610, 1615, 1618, 1621, 1626, 1631,
Castellón 1727 1642, 1656, 1696
Castelnuovo Berardenga 547, 549, 630, 1301f. Centro di Studio per l’archeologia etrusco-italica
Castelnuovo Monti 418 26
Castelsecco 1162f., 1325 Cerchiai, Luca 87
Castelvetro 1447 Cerese 1521
Castiglion(e) Fiorentino 552, 556, 1050, 1063, Ceri 172, 547, 601ff., 623, 840, 858, 892, 1267
1149, 1325f. –– Tomba delle Statue (Tomb of the Statues) 601,
–– Piazzale del Cassero 1050 623
Castiglione Mantovano 1501 Cerveteri, see Caere
Castro 408, 410, 414, 547, 549, 1016, 1257, 1282 Cesena 543, 1456, 1458
Castrocaro 1455, 1472 Cetamura del Chianti 302
Castrum Novum 302, 391, 393, 396, 555f., 670, Cetona 539ff.
1209, 1219, 1267 Chaeronea 646
Catalli, Fiorenzo 1023, 1136f. Chaire, see Caere
Catalonia 1709, 1717, 1278, 1342 Chalcis 1091
Cateni, Gabriele 1090 Chalkidike 14
Catha 300f., 481, 1005, 1135, 1204 Champagne 1609, 1623, 1629,
Caudium 1553 Charax 1648
Cava della Pozzolana, see Caere Charon 317, 330f., 650, 958, 1005, 1069, 1205
Cavallino 1557, 1559 Charun 83ff., 293, 305, 317f., 330, 333, 1005,
Cavalupo 1274–1276 1009, 1066, 1069, 1125, 1169f.
Cavatha 293, 296, 300, 302, 311, 1053, 1266 Chavéria 1614, 1621
Caylus, Anne Claude Philippe, count of 60, 71 Chiana, Val di 270, 397, 468, 471, 674, 854, 959,
Cecina, river 400, 425f., 1248, 1310–1313 1050, 1063, 1073, 1081, 1083, 1229, 1241,
Cecina, valley 427, 678, 1016, 1220 1248, 1286, 1299, 1325, 1327, 1329
Ceglie del Campo 1554 Chianciano (Terme) 474, 476f., 481, 494, 508,
Cel 300, 305 547, 549, 891, 962f., 1135f., 1165, 1323f.
Celle 310, 964, 1051, 1063, 1073, 1210, 1259 –– (I) Fucoli 1088
Celts/celtic 146, 151, 154ff., 165, 174, 261, 278, –– Tolle 891
542, 553, 932, 973, 983, 994, 1034, 1103, Chianti 54, 302, 547, 1248, 1349
1109f., 1144, 1223, 1225ff., 1229, 1264, Chiaramonte 1554
1267, 1277, 1283, 1339, 1349, 1437, 1445, –– Tomb 142: 1554
1447, 1450, 1520, 1522, 1525f., 1573, 1591, –– Tomb 157: 1554
1607f., 1624, 1626, 1628–1631, 1645, 1647, Chiarone, river 397, 1252, 1275
1704 Chiascio 1287
Central Europe 6, 151, 155, 165, 167f., 372, Chiavari 400f., 934, 1712
492, 501, 562f., 639, 739, 745, 749, 800, Chiese, river 1501, 1505, 1508
811ff., 870, 877, 932, 1141, 1448, 1458, Chios 154, 327, 1144, 1271, 1518
1463, 1465, 1486, 1585–1601, 1607–1612, Chiusi 54f., 58, 63, 65, 76, 85, 99, 146, 190, 196,

Index 1791
207, 214, 221f., 225–229, 231, 238, 241, Codice Minerario Massetano 437
250, 260–264, 267, 270, 321, 332, 361, Coelius Etruscus, P. 713
376f., 397, 463, 467, 469, 476ff., 494, 508, Colfiorito 925, 1545
511, 513f., 516, 539, 540, 541, 544, 547, Colle
549f., 552–558, 576, 627f., 634, 638, 640, –– Madore 1654, 1658ff.
798, 844, 854f., 857, 860, 865, 879, 890, –– Ospedaletto 1255
927, 943, 949, 954, 959f., 962, 976f., 979, –– Sant’Agata 1255
981ff., 985ff., 989, 993, 1006, 1010, 1035, Colline Metallifere 398, 401, 425, 427f., 435f.,
1049f., 1059f., 1062, 1064, 1073, 1080, 439, 599, 819, 973, 1016, 1018, 1248,
1083, 1086, 1090–1093, 1101, 1103, 1105, 1299f., 1303, 1320, 1572
1111, 1121, 1125, 1131, 1137, 1148f., 1152f., Cologna Veneta 1568
1163, 1165, 1183f., 1194, 1203f., 1208, 1215, Colonia Tarquinia 1219
1226f., 1248, 1283, 1286, 1299ff., 1307, Colonna, Giovanni 35, 103, 158, 286, 395, 704,
1322ff., 1344, 1350, 1444, 1458, 1462f., 763, 876, 1207, 1257, 1399, 1470, 1488,
1472, 1495, 1524, 1544, 1618, 1647 1503, 1536, 1683
Chiusi, lake 1248 Como 465, 933, 1136, 1152, 1501, 1503–1505,
Chržín 1629 1521f., 1571
Chytráček, Miloslav 1629 –– Ca’ Morta 1503f., 1522, 1571
CIBA Foundation 28 –– Tomba del Carrettino 933, 1571
Cicero, M. Tullius 15, 40, 279, 352, 358, 360, Conero 1479
364, 511, 558, 679, 707f., 711, 713 Conestabile della Staffa, Giancarlo 96
Cigarrelejo 1729 Conliège 1622
Cilnei, Larthi 708, 1103, 1111, Contenebra 554
Cilnia, family 1109 Contigliano 592
Cilnius Maecenas, C. 677 –– Conza 1373
Cimini Hills, see Monti Cimini Copenhagen 527ff., 531, 1085
Circe 12, 622, 638 Copper Age 562, 569, 742
Cirò Superiore 1557, 1559 Corchiano 300, 552
Cisra, see Caere Corinth 149, 154, 200, 327, 546, 837, 873, 896,
Cisterna di Latina 1542 909, 922, 1019f., 1043, 1091, 1121, 1146,
Civita Castellana 58, 514, 1258 1264, 1271, 1275, 1277, 1404, 1419f., 1538,
Civita d’Arlena 549, 1286 1656
Civita di Paternò 1663, 1665 Cornelius Cossus, Au. 124
Civitalba 1225 Cornelius Scipio Africanus, P. 679, 1216, 1224
Civitavecchia 224, 394, 1244 Cornelius Scipio Barbatus, L. 554, 658f.
Clanis, river 297, 1325, 1423 Cornia, river 399, 1248
Claudia, family 708, 1106, 1647, 1650 Cornwall 155, 1609
Claudius, emperor 1, 41, 312, 365, 548, 697f., Cornu 505, 507, 509, 511f.
700f., 710, 713, 1206 Cornus 1675
Claudius Caecus, Appius 660f. Correggio 418
Claudius Marcellus, C. 558, 708 Corsi/ Corsica 6, 13, 143, 154, 156, 172, 335,
Clavtie, see Caere 398f., 449, 453, 550f., 590, 945, 1021,
Clement of Alexandria 509, 1203 1137, 1141, 1148, 1239, 1264, 1308, 1310,
Clepatra 1109 1641–1650, 1700
Cles 1568 Corsini 709f.
Clevsina, family 689, 694, 1218 Corsini throne 709f.
Clusia, see Klousia Corssen, Wilhelm Paul 97
Clusium, see Chiusi Cortemaggiore 1449
Cnido 1560 Cortona 14, 38, 58, 60f., 134, 260, 269f., 287,

1792 Index
298, 300, 302f., 305, 333, 397, 402, 463, Cupra 929, 1479, 1486–1489, 1493
467, 470, 512, 514, 541, 544, 547, 549, 552, Curetes 8
556, 575f., 627, 687, 694, 702, 729, 798, Curius Dentatus, Ma. 672, 1494
1021, 1050, 1054f., 1059, 1061, 1088, 1105, Curt 469
1112, 1166, 1179, 1184, 1217, 1220, 1228, Curti 1408
1286, 1299, 1301, 1325, 1327f., 1329, 1352, Curuna, family 1103, 1273
1503, 1741 Cusu, family 687, 1218, 1352
–– Melone del Sodo I: 1328 Cutu, Arnth Cai 687
–– Melone del Sodo II: 1328 Cyclades 945, 1264, 1402
–– Tanella di Pitagora 687 Cyprus/Cypriots 25, 157, 208, 292, 321, 323,
Cortsen, Søren Peter 100 581–589, 591f. 594, 596–598, 600, 603,
Cortuosa 554 607, 817, 821, 832, 836, 840, 1270, 1515,
Coruncanius, Ti. 554, 671, 1209, 1274, 1285 1641, 1669
Cosa 393, 397, 552, 554, 556, 670–673, 676, Cyrene 156, 1695, 1697, 1702, 1703f.
903, 1055, 1175, 1282 Cyrus the Great, king 945
Cosimo II de Medici 19
Coste del Marano 438 d’Agostino, Bruno 318
Cougourlude 1715 D’Oriano, Rubens 1674
Covignano 1455, 1472f. Dacia 1091
–– – San Lorenzo in Monte 1472 Danielsson, Olof August 97, 99–101, 103
–– – Villa Ruffi 1473 Danube, river 23, 815, 1615, 1619, 1621
Craddock, Paul 1016 Darius, king 15, 646
Cratinus 37, 1689 Dattier 383, 1716
Cremera, river 599, 1255 Dauni/Daunia/Daunians 151, 155, 874, 1397,
Créontiadès 1643 1418, 1551–1555, 1557f.
Crespellano 1444, 1447 David, king 233, 241
Creston 12 Dawkins, Richard 1586
Crete 14, 21, 42, 64, 562, 585, 832, 1681, 1696 De Juliis, Ettore Maria 1094, 1553
Cristofani, Mauro 66, 74, 86, 88, 102–104, de Marinis, Raffaele Carlo 1695
481f., 872, 1081, 1087, 1136, 1265, 1306, de Sanctis, Gaetano 23
1409, 1418, 1687 de Simone, Carlo 103, 105, 1683
Črnolica 1598 Decius Mus, P. 554
Croce, Benedetto 73 Deecke, Wilhelm 97
Crocefisso del Tufo, see Orvieto Dei, Alberto1596
Croesus, king 12, 333, 833 Deiakos 1147
Crotala 516f. Deinarchos 1147
Cuccumella/Cuccumelletta, see Vulci Del Chiaro, Mario 1082, 1085
Cuccureddu di Villasimius 1674 Delos 239, 689, 945, 1155, 1620
Cucuruzzu 1641 Delphi 124, 154, 169, 223, 228, 401, 823, 1002,
Culsans 302f., 467, 470, 1005, 1741 1026, 1147, 1266, 1378, 1679, 1681f.,
Culsu 305, 333 1687ff., 1691
Cumae 37, 39, 131, 146, 148, 157, 173, 198, 292, Demaratus 125, 149, 546, 837, 839, 922, 1019,
328, 402, 537, 546, 551, 587f., 666, 822, 1269, 1656
832, 857, 934, 943, 953, 1023, 1067, 1141f., Demet(h)er 293, 296, 299, 1005, 1118, 1123,
1266, 1366, 1370, 1376, 1378f., 1383, 1388, 1206, 1271, 1410, 1665
1396f., 1404f., 1411f., 1415f., 1423, 1489, Demosthenes 1068, 1142f.
1655, 1672, 1679, 1682, 1704 Dempster, Thomas 1, 19, 56ff.
–– Tomb Artiaco 104 Deneffe, Victor 524
Cuno, Johann Gustav 26 Dennis, George 64

Index 1793
Denoyelle, Martine 1081 Egnazia 1557, 1559

Denys of Syracuse 1648 Egypt/Egyptians 2, 19, 21, 24, 37, 60, 70f., 151,
Denys the Periegetan 1641 292, 306, 479, 495, 524f., 542, 562, 584,
Derveni 1086 599, 602, 639, 646f., 649, 692, 831, 834,
Dessueri 1696 852f., 1002, 1141, 1192, 1695, 1697, 1702,
Devoto, Giacomo 21 1704f.
Diadochi 647 Ekphantos 839
Dicaearchia 1017, 1216 El Oral 1729
Didyma 1685, 1703 Elba, island of 5, 37, 112, 147, 381, 398ff., 425,
Dinarco, see Deinarchos 433, 435, 439, 445–457, 463, 465, 547ff.,
Dinoi Campana 980 551, 751, 819, 973, 1016ff., 1024, 1091,
Diodorus Siculus 39, 445, 455, 509, 550, 1014, 1136, 1141, 1148, 1152, 1216f., 1239, 1241,
1017, 1193, 1216, 1416, 1704 1310, 1642, 1655
Dionysios of Phocaea 1704 Elbe, river 815, 1630
Dionysius I, see Denys of Syracuse 1133, 1147, Elceto 801
1152 Elea 1384, 1689
Dionysius of Halicarnassus 618f., 621, 633, 652, Elisyches 1646
1004, 1020, 1106, 1192, 1397, 1544, 1656 Eloro 935f.
Dionysos/Dionysus, god 12, 83, 144, 296f., 481, Elsa, river 468, 1149, 1248, 1349, 1472
948, 992, 1005, 1045, 1084, 1085, 1092, Elsdorf-Oberembt 1612
1147, 1176, 1203f., 1514, 1686 Elymi 1653
Diopos 839 Emilia-Romagna 537, 1533
Diphilos, see Tiphile Emiliozzi, Adriana 411f., 414, 416f., 421, 846,
Disciplina etrusca 179, 685 905, 907
DNA 5, 28, 109–115 Empoli 1248
Dobiat, Claus 1593 Emporion 145, 401, 1271, 1275, 1600, 1618, 1713,
Dodona 17, 823, 1002 1723–1728, 1730f., 1733
Doganella 297, 397, 549, 552, 635, 673, 1252, Emptoz, François 525
1278 Enei, Flavio 904, 1341, 1345
Dolenjsko 1589, 1592f., 1595, 1598 Eneolithic, see Copper Age
Domusculta Capracorum 1257 Enserune 1717
Dorgali 596 Eos 293, 1005
Doria, Simmaco 1406 Ephesus 157, 1018, 1683
Dorians 12, 16, 25 Ephorus of Cyme 14
Dos dell’Arca 1501 Epidamnos 1146
Doubs, river 1607, 1609, 1630f. Epirus 660, 1646
Druid/Druids 278 Epizephyrian Locris 1682
Drusus Livius, M. 558, 1198, 1207, 1232 Era, river 1248
Duchov 1628 Eretum 417f., 860, 1544
Ducati, Pericle 26, 85, 226, 1445 Eros 1087, 1524
Dürrnberg 1624 Esarhaddon 348, 351
Dular, Janez 1589, 1591 Escuera 1729
Este 567, 812, 921, 930, 932, 973, 1515, 1521,
Earle, Timothy 804 1567–1572, 1574f., 1587, 1598, 1600, 1610,
East Greece/East Greeks, see Ionia/Ionians 1615
Eboli 1359, 1364, 1366, 1373, 1388 –– Carceri 1575
Ebro, river 1152, 1722ff., 1726 –– Casa di Ricovero 1587
Egg, Markus 1594f., 1599 –– Tomb 8 Pelà: 1567
Egina/Eginetans, see Aegina/Aeginetans –– Tomb 73 Benvenuti: 1574

1794 Index
Esterel 1714 931ff., 1024, 1026, 1240, 1242, 1245,

Ete Vivo, river 1482 1583ff., 1585ff., 1642, 1662f.
Eteocles 669 Eurymedon 1142f.
Ettel, Peter 1616 Eurytios 211, 843
Etruria 447ff., 453, 463, 467, 469, 473, 475, Evas 473
477f., 480ff., 485f., 495f., 498–501, 505,
515, 517, 525, 529–532, 537–559, 561–568, Fabbrecce 925f., 930
571ff., 575–578, 581, 584f., 587f., 590, Fabia, family 708, 1257
598ff., 603, 607, 617f., 622, 625, 627, 630, Fabius, Q. 554
635, 639f., 645, 649, 651, 654f., 659, 661, Fabius/Fannius, fresco 1228
665, 668–671, 674, 676–680, 685f., 689, Fabius Maximus Rullianus, Q. 364, 554, 708
691–696, 700, 702ff., 709ff., 714f., 723, Fabius Pictor, Q. 39, 48, 652
728, 730, 734, 736, 739–745, 747–753, Fabretti, Ariodante 96
759, 761ff., 772, 779f., 782f., 787f., 791, Fabriano 416, 857, 925, 927–930, 1479f., 1489ff.
795–802, 804ff., 811–817, 819–823, 839, Faesulae, see Fiesole
841, 843f., 851f., 855, 857, 863, 865, 870, Faggiano 1557, 1559
872–875, 877–881, 885, 887, 890–892, Fair Promontory 1018, 1649
896, 901–905, 907, 909–917, 921ff., Falcone, Lidia 1410
925, 927, 929f., 932ff., 936, 943f., 946f., Falerii Veteres 341f., 544, 547, 549, 552–555,
951f., 954ff., 959, 971, 973, 975, 977, 667f., 669f., 1059, 1063f., 1067, 1082f.,
979f., 982–986, 989f., 992, 994f., 997, 1085, 1087, 1118, 1124, 1149, 1153, 1164,
1001f., 1009f., 1013f., 1016, 1018–1026, 1210, 1258f., 1718
1032–1036, 1049f., 1053–1055, 1057–1068, –– – Celle 1051, 1073, 1259
1072, 1079–1095, 1101–1106, 1109–1112, –– – Sassi Caduti 1259
1117–1123, 1129, 1132f., 1135–1138, –– – Scasato (I-II) 650
1141–1155, 1161ff., 1167–1170, 1173–1179, Falerii Novi 556, 667f., 677, 1209, 1259
1184, 1191–1200, 1203–1206, 1210f., Faliscan area, see ager Faliscus
1215, 1217–1221, 1223ff., 1228–1232, Faliscan/Faliscans 157, 296, 415, 420, 517, 650f.,
1239–1248, 1251, 1253, 1255, 1257–1277, 656, 667f., 859, 862, 865, 923–926, 930,
1283, 1285–1288, 1299–1334, 1339–1352, 1009, 1063, 1082–1088, 1153, 1155, 1210,
1359–1372, 1378, 1383f., 1388, 1395–1404, 1251ff., 1257 1258ff., 1274, 1283, 1399,
1415, 1423, 1437f., 1441–1449, 1454–1459, 1415, 1490, 1533, 1544, 1718
1462f., 1467, 1470, 1472, 1482, 1484–1489, Fanum Voltumnae 135, 221, 231, 277, 641, 698ff.,
1492, 1501–1510 702, 1133, 1183
Etruria mineraria 425f., 439, 448f. Farnese 1254f., 1349
Etruscan League 122, 136, 241, 699, 1308 Felsina, see Bologna
Etruscheria 1f., 19–21, 26f., 53, 57 Felsnas, Laris 558, 1229
Euboea/Euboeans 146, 198f., 249, 252, 266, Feltre 306, 1210
328, 448, 581, 583f., 588, 598, 600f., 607, Feluske, Aule 127, 169
791, 795, 800, 803, 805, 811, 822, 907, Ferentium/Ferento 556, 906, 1102, 1273
909f., 945, 1275, 1303, 1365f., 1370, 1396, Fermo 537, 543, 577, 761, 799, 813, 922, 928,
1402, 1643 1453, 1457, 1479ff., 1486ff. 1489, 1493,
Eucheir 839 1567f.
Euhesperides 1697 –– Misericordia 1482ff.
Eugrammos 839 –– Mossa 1482
Euphronios 228, 955, 1325 –– Tombs
Euripides 479, 509 –– – 2B/1956 Misericordia: 1486
Europe 1f., 21, 109, 112, 114, 146, 155, 233, 238, –– – 8/1911 Misericordia: 1484
561, 570, 753, 800, 811–816, 869, 921ff., –– – 63Q/1957 Misericordia: 1486

Index 1795
–– – 78S/1957 Misericordia: 1485f. Fratte 402, 636, 1359, 1361, 1374, 1376, 1380f.,
–– – 121S/1957 Misericordia: 1486 1383–1389, 1411, 1554, 1566
Ferschweiler 1626 –– Tomb 26/1963 1383f.
Ficarella 439 Frattesina di Fratta Polesine 541, 543, 753, 1437
Ficoroni cista 652f., 655 Frederiksen, Martin 1397, 1418
Fidenza 1449 Fregenae 396, 555f., 670, 1267
Fiesole 214, 250, 398, 401, 576, 657, 985, 989, Fréret, Nicolas 22
1016, 1051, 1063, 1131, 1149, 1152, 1200, Frög/Breg 1599
1217, 1248, 1330ff. Fucecchio 1248
–– Villa Marchi 1330 Fucino, lake 1533
Fikellura style 1515, 1576 Fufluns, god 296ff., 363, 481, 948, 1005, 1176
Fiora, river 391, 393, 396, 420ff., 427, 1241, Fufluns, Avle, artisan 1174
1247, 1251, 1274–1277, 1281, 1286 Fulvius Flaccus, Cn. 555
Firmum 468 Fulvius Flaccus, M. 554, 641, 701, 1133f., 1209
Fiumaretta 400 Furlani, Giuseppe 341
Fliess 1568 Furtei 1675
Florence 1, 4, 19, 54, 58, 60f., 64, 95, 101, 297,
401f., 343, 451, 594, 620, 854, 856, 889, Gabii 576f., 1535, 1537
1073, 1080, 1082, 1089, 1120, 1180, 1226, Gàbrici, Ettore 1256
1239, 1245, 1248, 1330ff., 1742 Gabrovec, Stane 1589f.
Florensac 1713f. Gadir 1672
Follonica 430, 433, 435, 439, 451, 455, 1017 Gaggio 571, 1455f.
Follonica Gulf 398f. Gaia 16
Fondazione Lerici 1260 Galeria, river 599
Fontanelice 1455f. Gamurrini, Giovan Francesco 96f., 103
Fontanile di Legnisina, see Vulci Garda Lake 713
Fonte all’Aia 1322 Garfagnana 1334
Fonte Veneziana 1325 Garigliano, river 1395, 1417f., 1534f.
Fonteblanda 397, 1017, 1252 Gastaldi, Patrizia 745f.,
Fonteius Capito, C. 45, 711, 1206 Gaul/Gauls 18, 22, 155ff., 278, 537, 553f., 638,
Forcello di Bagnolo San Vito 402, 1600 640, 668, 670, 1055, 1130f., 1141, 1152,
Forlì 543, 1444, 1454, 1472 1223, 1225f., 1493, 1709, 1711–1718
Fortore, river 1557f. Gavorrano 430, 438, 865
Fortuna 301, 661, 1133 Gazzo Veronese 1570, 1594
Forum Aureli 1282 Gehrig, Ulrich 1622
Fossa 319, 323, 326, 1251, 1256, 1259f., 1266, Geisa-Borsch 1624
1275, 1287, 1312, 1315, 1320, 1402, 1419f., Gela 936, 1205, 1654, 1656ff., 1662, 1664
1545f. Genoa 54, 401, 453, 550, 934, 1055, 1081, 1522,
Fosso di Capattoli 432 1712
Fosso di Sodacavalli 437 Gentili, Gino Vinicio 1459f, 1469
Francavilla Marittima 592f. Genucilia, Poplia 1085
France 3f., 6, 144, 151f., 155–158, 174, 233, 401, Genucius Clepsina, C. 689, 1053
495, 546, 548, 907, 932, 972, 1020, 1607ff., Genucius Clepsina, L. 689
1616, 1618, 1629, 1631, 1673, 1685, 1688, Gerhard, Eduard 63, 82
1697, 1709–1717, 1723–1728 Germany 3f., 23, 73, 155, 167, 495, 815f., 932,
François, Alessandro 63 1412, 1520, 1607, 1609, 1614, 1616, 1622f.,
Francovich, Riccardo 428 1629ff., 1704
Frankfurt-Stadtwald 932, 1571, 1573 Geryon 172, 791, 1003
Frascole 1332 Gesseri 1314

1796 Index
Gevelinghausen 815f., 1503, 1574, 1610 530, 537, 540, 542, 545f., 548, 550f., 562ff.,
Ghiaccio Forte 1054, 1057, 1349 569, 578, 581, 583–589, 598ff., 603f.,
Giannutri 399 619, 621f., 632f., 636–641, 646–652, 656,
Giardino, Claudio 798, 1658 659ff., 669, 687, 693, 703, 709, 723, 734,
Giarratana 1654, 1657 739f., 751, 764, 772, 785, 791, 803, 811,
Gibraltar 197 821ff., 831f., 834, 836f., 839f., 842ff.,
Giglio, island of 149, 155, 157, 371, 383f., 399, 851, 853, 855, 857, 860–864, 869–875,
507, 909, 1020, 1239, 1241, 1656, 1659, 885, 889f., 907, 909, 921f., 928, 932,
1684, 1714f., 1756 934, 936, 943–956, 958, 960, 962, 964f.,
Gilotta, Fernando 90, 947, 1081, 1084, 1167, 971ff., 975, 977–982, 985–991, 994f.,
1414, 1547 1001–1010, 1018, 1020ff., 1031–1036,
Ginosa 1557f. 1043f., 1049f., 1053f., 1057f., 1059f., 1063,
Gioia del Colle 1557, 1559 1065f., 1068ff., 1072, 1079f., 1082, 1087,
Giza 525 1091f., 1095, 1102, 1104, 1106, 1109, 1110,
Glauberg 1620f., 1624, 1626 1112, 1118–1121, 1123, 1135, 1137, 1141,
Gleba, Margarita 803, 1683 1143f., 1147f., 1161, 1163f., 1167, 1169, 1180,
Gleisberg, Alter 1615, 1618 1184, 1203–1206, 1230ff., 1255, 1260,
Golasecca 538, 921, 931, 933f., 1501, 1504f., 1264, 1266, 1269ff., 1275, 1277, 1299f.,
1515, 1520ff., 1566, 1607, 1631, 1663, 1725 1303f., 1307, 1309f., 1315, 1322, 1325,
Gonfienti 549, 552, 635, 638, 1248, 1329f., 1332 1359, 1365ff., 1369f., 1373, 1378–1384,
Gordon Childe, Vere 567 1387ff., 1396f., 1402–1405, 1411, 1414f.,
Gorgias 479 1418f., 1423, 1442, 1444f., 1148f., 1490,
Gorgona 399 1492, 1504, 1506, 1510, 1512, 1514–1519,
Gori, Anton Francesco 58f. 1523, 1536, 1551–1554, 1559f., 1565f., 1572,
Gornja Radgona 1598 1576f., 1585f., 1591, 1595f., 1607ff., 1615,
Grabfeldgau 1617 1620–1623, 1626, 1628–1631, 1641, 1643f.,
Graccus, Tiberius 155 1646, 1649f., 1653–1659, 1661f., 1664,
Gran Carro 498, 544, 741, 801f., 1286 1669, 1671–1676, 1679–1691, 1695, 1697,
Granada 1724, 1729 1700, 1702ff., 1711–1718, 1723–1727, 1733
Granarolo 1444 Gricignano 1423
Grancano, river 1359, 1366, 1381, 1385 Großeibstadt 1615, 1617
Gras, Michel 1673f., 1711 Grosseto 398, 425, 429, 433, 435f., 870, 1248
Grassi, Barbara 1410 Grotta Gramiccia, see Veii
Gravisca/Graviscae 143, 150, 154, 202, 296, Grotta Porcina 230, 309, 547, 549, 628, 1006,
298, 300, 311, 391, 393, 395ff., 548–552, 1125
556, 635, 639, 671, 690ff., 909, 955, 994f., Grotte del Mereo, see Bisenzio
1001f., 1004, 1018, 1020, 1023, 1049, Grotti 1080f.
1123f., 1149, 1205, 1209, 1219, 1252, 1270, Group
1274, 1665, 1712, 1727 –– Alcestis 1084
Greece/Greeks 1–6, 12, 15–21, 25, 27, 29, –– Caeretan 864
35–39, 42, 45–48, 55, 58, 61f., 69–90, –– Campanizing 1083
113f., 145f., 149–159, 165, 169–174, 180, –– Clusium 1083
183–189, 198, 203, 208–218, 221–230, –– Cock 1420, 1511, 1514
239, 243, 245f., 249–258, 265, 277–281, –– Creusa-Dolon 1081
284, 286, 288, 290–298, 300, 302, 304, –– Diespater 1082
311, 317, 320, 326f., 329–333, 357f., 362, –– Epiktetos 1520
371, 376, 379–386, 391, 393–398, 401, –– Fat Boy 1145, 1152, 1520
412, 415, 445, 448, 452ff., 463ff., 468ff., –– Ferrara T 585 1087
476, 479ff., 488, 493, 505f., 509f., 515ff., –– Fluid 1085

Index 1797
–– Fortnum 1094 Hart, Keith 801

–– Full Sakkos 1085 Hartmann, Nicholas 803
–– Funnel 1083, 1084 Haruspex 289, 349, 357, 358, 365f., 689, 707f.,
–– Galli Affrontati (Confronted Cocks) 1420 712f., 948, 1208, 1267
–– Haimon 1519, 1728 Hase, Friedrich-Wilhelm von 1615, 1697
–– Hesse 1087, 1153 Hassle 1574, 1622
–– Intermediate 1081 Ḥāṣōr 344
–– Ivy Leaf 1280 Hatria 468
–– Lasa 1089 Hatten 1622
–– Leafless 1519 Hauran 1690
–– Leagros 1514, 1519 Heba 556, 673ff., 692
–– Lyre-Player 1367f. Hecataeus of Miletus 37, 453, 1374, 1421
–– Maschera Umana (Human Mask) 1420 Hector 235, 493, 1370
–– N 1517 Hedonians 15
–– Panaitios 1520 Hegesias 70
–– Phantom 1087 Helbig, Wolfgang 22, 1405
–– Praxias 955, 1080 Helico 1596
–– Primacy 1081 Helios 300, 1005
–– Rosoni 1277 Hellanicus of Lesbos 13f., 16, 38, 541
–– Saint Valentin 1087 Hellenes, see Greeks
–– San Francisco 1088 Helorus, see Eloro
–– Sokra 1087, 1718 Hephaestus, see Hephaistos
–– Torcop 1085 Hephaistos 300, 1002, 1005
–– Turmuca 1084 Hera 239, 293ff., 297, 300, 396, 632, 952,
–– Vagnonville 1080f. 1003, 1005, 1271, 1382, 1408, 1488,
Gouraya 1705 1684, 1687
Guadalquivir 1723 Hérault 1171, 1713
Gualdo Tadino 172 Heracles, see Herakles
Guarnacci, Mario 58 Herakles 294–297, 844, 947, 953, 991, 1087,
Gubbio, see Iguvium 1176, 1414
Guerini, Vincenzo 525 Herbig, Gustav 97, 99f., 103f.
Guggisberg, Martin 931, 1623 Hercle 262, 294–297, 300, 302, 466, 481f.,
Guglionesi 1557 1005, 1007, 1053, 1063f., 1123, 1135, 1176,
Guidi, Alessandro 1587 1257, 1266, 1446, 1740
Gulf of Lion 151, 394, 1266, 1277, 1342, 1618 Herculaneum 1376
Hercules, see Herakles
Hades 300, 1005, 1009, 1069f, 1125, 1169 Hermes 89, 302, 466, 469, 479, 953, 1005, 1008
Haka 235 Hermodoros of Salamis 1231
Halesus 1258 Hernici 1102, 1533, 1544
Hallein 1624 Herodotus of Halicarnassus 1, 11–16, 22, 24f.,
Hallstatt 492, 495, 545, 563, 813, 815, 930, 932, 27, 37f., 48, 65, 109, 151, 222f., 639, 1009,
971, 973, 1504f., 1520, 1585f., 1590, 1594f., 1018, 1629, 1643f., 1646, 1700, 1704
1598, 1607–1612, 1614–1626, 1628, 1630f. Herzberg 815
Hama in Campania 696 Hescanas, family 1071, 1108,
Hamilcar 1646 Hesiod 12, 36, 38, 287, 621f., 1397
Hampe, Roland 86f. Hesychius of Miletus 130, 239, 509
Hannibal 305, 331, 470, 555, 558, 675f., 685, Heuneburg 1615, 1619ff., 1623, 1631
1164, 1174, 1195, 1223, 1228f., 1325 Heurgon, Jacques 26, 28, 221, 709, 1397
Hannon 1646 Heyne, Christian Gottlob 61, 70f.

1798 Index
Hiero(n) I of Syracuse 37, 173, 551, 666, 1023, Inzigkofen 1621

1141, 1646, 1655, 1679, 1681 Ionia/Ionians 16, 85, 144, 149ff., 153, 158, 200,
Hills, see Monti 453, 639, 943–946, 948, 959, 978, 1002,
Himera 15, 551, 1149, 1620, 1646, 1654, 1143f., 1257, 1264, 1271, 1396, 1405, 1515,
1657–1661, 1665, 1704 1517, 1542, 1554, 1559f., 1643, 1645, 1664,
Hippocratic corpus 524 1674, 1683, 1726
Hipponion 1557, 1560 Ionian Sea 551, 1682
Hirpi Sorani 239 Ipf 1623
Hirschlanden 1620f. Iran 112, 342f., 836
Hispania, see Spain Irno, river 402, 1359, 1374, 1381
Hispellum, see Spello Irollo, Jean-Marc 26
Hittites 25, 342 Ischia 236, 448, 451, 581, 584f., 588, 822, 832,
Hochdorf 1607, 1609, 1617, 1619f., 1626, 1628, 1366, 1395
1631 Isidore of Seville 44, 509f.
Höckmann, Olaf 907 Isotes 479
Hohenasperg 1620 Istituto di Studi Etruschi ed Italici 26, 101,
Hohmichele 1621f. 1709
Holy See 438 Istituto di Studi sulle Civiltà Italiche e del
Homer 12, 123, 144, 208f., 229, 235, 239, 288, Mediterraneo Antico 4, 7, 26
326, 332, 479, 493, 546, 603, 709, 785, Istituto di Studi sul Mediterraneo Antico 4, 26
832, 839f., 843, 845, 872, 889f., 945, 950, Istituto per l’Archeologia Etrusco-Italica 26
1006, 1370 Istria 1572
Homo, Léon 25 Italics 1, 19, 22ff., 685, 823, 985, 994, 1111,
Hopkins, Keith 691 1384, 1656
Horace 15, 40, 677, 704 Italy 1ff., 6, 12–28, 38f., 42, 47f., 53f., 58, 63,
Hulchnies, Luvce 1175 65, 72f., 75, 96, 101, 109, 112ff., 128, 146,
Huelva 588f., 1696, 1724, 1726 151, 154, 158, 165f., 169, 171, 173f., 181f.,
Hungary 1593, 1612 185, 197f., 201, 208, 210, 235, 245, 259ff.,
Hyacinth 473 264, 306f., 320, 330f., 352, 365, 393, 398,
Hydra of Lerna 1003, 1379 408ff., 447f., 452, 456, 464, 468, 470,
Hydriae Caeretan 153, 980, 995, 1264 486, 494f., 498, 500, 510, 516, 523, 531,
Hyginus 510, 695 537ff., 541f., 545f., 550, 558, 561f., 564f.,
Hyperides 1147 568–571, 575, 581f., 585, 588, 591, 593ff.,
600ff., 605, 607, 635, 640, 645, 646–661,
Iaia, Cristiano 747, 1585, 1593–1596, 1610 665f., 669, 676f., 679, 681, 685, 694f.,
Ialysos 1686f. 702, 740, 744f., 749ff., 753, 762, 791, 795,
Ianiculum 70 797f., 800–805, 811–823, 832, 836, 845,
Iapygia/Iapygians 1551 871ff., 903, 905, 911, 916, 921f., 931, 933f.,
Iberian Peninsula, see Spain 943, 947f., 953, 955, 971f., 986, 995, 1010,
Ibiza 1723 1020, 1036, 1058f., 1063, 1065, 1095, 1119,
Idice, valley 1146, 1137, 1440 1122f., 1131, 1154, 1161, 1163f., 1167, 1174f.,
Ieranto, bay 1376 1177, 1180, 1195, 1197, 1199, 1204, 1216,
Iguvium 468, 678 1219, 1224f., 1228, 1230, 1239, 1245, 1248,
Im Ried-West 1615f. 1319, 1343f., 1374, 1395f., 1401–1405,
Imbros 15, 25, 38 1412, 1418, 1438, 1448, 1457f., 1462, 1469,
Imola 1441, 1444, 1454, 1456, 1469f., 1472, 1621 1488, 1490, 1533, 1535–1545, 1551–1559,
Inghirami, Curzio 57 1565–1573, 1585ff., 1593, 1595, 1608–1612,
Indo-European 20, 22ff., 27, 100, 110, 541 1615, 1618, 1621f., 1624, 1626, 1629, 1631,
Ins 1623 1641f., 1647f., 1656f., 1661–1664, 1672,

Index 1799
1679, 1681f., 1691, 1695f., 1703f., 1711, Kleophrades 956, 1384

1717, 1723, 1725 Klousia 959, 1193, 1200, 1647
Itinerarium Maritimum 393, 396, 399 Klutius 1650
Ittireddu 1675 Kolaios of Samos 1629, 1723
Iulius Aquila 312 Kommos 585
Iuno 1256f., 1259, 1408 Kore 296, 1118, 1123
Iuppiter, see Jupiter Korkyra 1143
Iustin 41 Körte, Gustav 24, 82
Izmir 945 Koscielec 1618
Iznalloz 1729 Kossack, Georg 1596
Kourotrophos Maffei 1112
Janiculum, see Ianiculum Krall, Jacob 99
Janus 54, 302, 470 Kranzspiegelgruppe 473, 1090
Jason 224, 863, 1142 Krausse, Dirk 1614, 1621
Jegenstorf 1623 Krestonians 15
Jockenhövel, Albrecht 1610 Kretschmer, Paul 23f.
Johannowsky, Werner 1397ff., 1401, 1403f., Krka, river 1589
1406, 1410f., 1417 Kroatia 1593
Johnstone, Mary 531 Kröllkogel 1593
Jucker, kotyle 246 Ksour es-Saaf 1704
Jupiter 124, 127, 225, 231, 292, 302, 359, 482, Kunulua 584
844, 952, 963, 1207, 1210, 1231, 1257, Kurd, situlae 930, 1366, 1369, 1598
1283, 1377, 1541 Kurnians/Kurnos 1641, 1643f., 1646, 1649, 1650
Justinus, see Iustin Kyme, see Cumae
Kaikna, Vel 154, 1130f., 1447 L’Aquila 1543

Kailes 154, 1647 L’Arialla 437
Kainua 636, 1446, 1449 La Castellaccia 437
Kalenderberg 1600 La Joya 1724
Kalkhu, see Nimrud La Liquière 1713, 1717
Kaminia 541 La Piana 499
Kamiros 1031, 1036f., 1043ff. La Regina, Adriano 25
Kappel 1621 La Rustica 576, 1537
Karales/Karalis, see Cagliari –– Grave XLIII: 1537
Karnak 1702 La Tène 174, 1520, 1607ff., 1615, 1620, 1623f.,
Karst 1595 1626, 1628–1631
Kaschnitz-Weinberg, Guido von 73 Lacedemonia/Lacedemonians, see Laconia/
Katacina, family 994 Laconians
Kathle, family 1447 Laconia/Laconians 42, 85, 980, 1264
Kestner, August 63, 83 Lactantius Placidus 510, 1208
Khaniale Tekke 1696 Lacus Prile 398
Khorsabad 601, 834 Ladispoli 396
Kimmig, Wolfgang 1626 Laforgia, Elena 1421
Kithara 515, 948 Lahošť 1628
Klanins, god 297 Laives/Leifers 1568
Klappspiegel 1091 Lamone 539, 1349, 1457
Klavti, family 154, 1647 Lanciani, Rodolfo 530, 1255
Kleinaspergle 1619, 1623f. Languedoc 1644, 1711–1718
Kleopatra, see Clepatra Lanzi, Luigi 20, 61ff., 71, 95f.

1800 Index
Lape, Vel 482, 1135 Leto 953

Lapie/Lapius, C. 1174 Leucothea 965, 1003f., 1124, 1266
Laran 297, 302, 308, 966 Leukios 1659, 1702
Laraniia, Araziia 1541 Levant/Levantine 6, 74f., 112, 196ff., 320f., 341,
Larino 1557f. 546, 569, 578, 581, 583f., 587, 589ff., 594f.,
Larisa on the Hermos 213 598ff., 604, 607, 739, 795, 799, 804f., 811,
Larna, family 1217 821f., 907, 965, 1303, 1322, 1596, 1669,
Latinos 12, 287, 1657 1671f., 1679, 1690
Latinus, king 285, 621 Levie 1641
Latium/Latini/Latins 29, 40, 166, 172, 202, Lez, river 1714f.
210, 224, 245, 286, 425ff., 438, 523, 538ff, Liber Linteus 100, 179, 306, 633, 693, 1705
561ff., 565, 567, 618, 635, 638, 640, 645, Libri haruspicini 45, 279, 357f., 711
650ff., 661, 665, 667, 730, 734, 789, 832, Libri fulgurales 357ff.
844, 852, 855, 857, 870, 879, 888, 923ff., Libri rituales 279, 306, 357f., 360
928, 964, 1020, 1067f., 1086ff., 1119, 1155, Liburnians 18
1161ff., 1176, 1247, 1283, 1303, 1365, 1373, Libya/Libyans 1646, 1697
1396, 1417, 1486, 1489, 1533–1547, 1558, Liciniae-Sextiae Leges/Licinio-Sextiae Laws 555,
1645, 1648, 1650 557, 1119
Latium Adiectum 1535 Liguria/Ligurians 174, 400f., 427, 548, 550, 674,
Latium Vetus 208, 320, 410, 415, 523, 576f., 934, 1333f., 1342, 1445f., 1505, 1641, 1646,
584, 587, 600, 603, 782,788, 791, 879, 1709, 1711f., 1714, 1716, 1725
904, 924f., 1247, 1283, 1396, 1534, 1538 Linington, Richard 874
Latona 1005, 1008 Lipari 551, 571, 1009, 1147, 1653f., 1658ff., 1665
Lattes 99, 103, 152, 157, 401, 1021, 1709, Liparus 1654
1715–1718 Liri, river 1534
Lattes, Elia 97 Liri, valley 1417, 1535
Laurentina, see Acqua Acetosa Laurentina Lissarrague, François 87
Laurentum 698 Lituus 126f., 134, 282, 285, 505, 507, 509, 511,
Lavello 1555 625, 833f., 858, 895, 1269
–– Tomb 955 Cimitero: 1555 Liverani, Paolo 698
Lavinium 166, 286, 576, 1091, 1538ff. Livius Drusus, M., see Drusus Livius, M.
Law of the Twelve Tables 525, 990 Livorno 399, 425, 427, 430–433, 451, 1312
Lawrence, David Herbert 948, 1507 Livy 18, 22, 39f., 47f, 124f., 130, 135f., 189,
Le Murelle 397, 1252, 1278 221–226, 230f., 277f., 306, 312, 357, 360f.,
Lefkadia 654 364, 371, 456, 506, 542, 553ff., 557f., 618,
–– Tomb of the Judgment 654 621, 631, 640, 661, 670–675, 842, 922,
Lefkandi 584 986, 995, 1009, 1014, 1024, 1103, 1106,
Legoli 1312 1107, 1109, 1110, 1120, 1147, 1192, 1204,
Leinie 1102, 1108 1206ff., 1215, 1223f., 1228, 1322, 1325,
Lemnos 14f., 20f., 24f., 27, 29, 38, 264, 542 1396, 1416f., 1438
Leonardi, Giovanni 1588 Llobregat, river 1732
Leonardo da Vinci 1, 54 Lo Schiavo, Fulvia 1671
Leontini/Leontinoi 469, 1142, 1657ff., 1663, Locri Epizefiri, see Epizephyrian Locris
1682, 1702 Loire, river 1716
Lepidus, M. Aemilius (consul 78 BCE) 1200 Lollini, Delia Giuliana 1488
Leponti/Lepontic 261, 540, 1152, 1505 Lombardy 408, 933, 1470, 1501–1526, 1574,
Lepsius, Karl Richard 95 1576, 1663
Lesbos 13, 25, 38, 541, 1271 Londa 1330, 1332
Lethams 1415 Longola 1362, 1364

Index 1801
Lorenzini, collection 959f. Magna Graecia/Magna Graecians 84, 225, 294,

Lorraine, river 1624 415, 465, 468, 553, 635, 640, 649–656,
Lower Carniola 1589 659f., 1010, 1036, 1049, 1057, 1063, 1066,
Lua 1381 1082, 1087, 1091ff., 1118f., 1153, 1169,
Luas 1381 1374, 1378, 1414, 1517, 1523, 1552, 1557,
Lucania, Lucanus 260, 1081, 1083, 1143, 1146, 1559, 1661, 1664
1388f., 1544, 1553ff., 1620, 1704 Magra, river 393, 400, 548
Lucca 239, 400, 469, 471, 675, 1149, 1248, Mailhac 1711, 1717
1334 Maionia 16
Lucera/Luceria 468, 1557f. Makron 956, 1407, 1517, 1520
Lucumo 125, 666, 994 Maleos/Maleus 397, 510
Lucus Feroniae 420, 1085, 1120, 1258 Malnati, Luigi 577, 932, 1056, 1469
Luna/Luni 393, 556, 675, 1199, 1231 Mamarcina 1374
Luni sul Mignone 544, 801 Manciano 1349
Lurmita 298, 300 Mandolesi, Alessandro 799
Lur(ś) 297 Mandoleto 1153
Lusus Troiae 238, 889 Mandrione di Cavalupo, see Vulci
Luwians 584 Manfredonia 1557
Lycmon, see Lucumo Mania 302
Lycophron 38, 287, 509 Manth 293, 300, 1381, 1387
Lydia/Lydians 1, 12f., 15ff., 19, 25, 37ff., 203, Mantrns 300
373, 394, 510, 833, 1438 Mantua 55, 402, 418, 1010, 1024, 1152, 1287,
Lydus, Johannes 288, 312, 511, 712, 715 1437, 1449, 1501f., 1508f., 1522–1526, 1565
Lydus, John, see Lydus, Johannes Marangone, river 439, 544, 547, 549, 552, 556,
Lyon 41, 932, 1206, 1716 628, 870
Lyra 515 Marano di Castenaso 1444
Lysikrates 1147 Marche/Marches 319, 408, 537, 539, 543, 577,
Lysippus 70, 649, 656 761, 1225, 1286, 1453f., 1457, 1479f., 1482,
1489, 1491ff., 1533, 1703
Maccarese 394 Marcina 402, 1361, 1374
Macchia 1169, 1244 Marecchia, river 401, 1457, 1459, 1461, 1463,
–– del Monte 437 1472
–– della Comunità, see Veii Mari 348, 351
Macchia Valfortore 1557f. Mariana 1646
Macedonia 645ff., 649f., 652, 654, 1057, 1063, Maribor 1591
1086, 1091–1094, 1167 Mariś 300
Macolnia, Dindia 652 Marc/Mark Antony, see Antonius, Marcus
Macri Langoni 1031, 1036–1039, 1043ff. Marius, C. 558, 679, 692, 1198ff., 1350
Maddaloni 1419 Marquess of Courtance 1695
Mae 307, 1206 Marradi 1455, 1457, 1568
Maffei, Scipione 57f, 1112 Marrucatello, see Vulci
Maggiani, Adriano 103, 280, 593, 706, 1025, Mars 169, 174, 300, 618, 1005, 1062, 1231
1135, 1281, 1510, 1701 Marsala 1654, 1658
Magliano in Toscana 298, 547, 673 Marseille, see Massalia
Magliano Sabina 1544 Marsiliana 198, 291f., 321, 323, 397, 437, 544,
Magdalenska gora 1574 547, 853ff., 857, 859f, 875, 893, 905ff.,
Mahdia 1704 1057, 1278f., 1300, 1304, 1306, 1312,
Malacena, ware 1091, 1173 1349ff., 1403, 1463
Malcus 1700 –– Banditella (necropolis) 879, 1274

1802 Index
–– Banditella 2 Tomb: 875 1174, 1180, 1216f., 1230, 1239, 1242ff.,

–– Casa delle Anfore 1057, 1349ff. 1252f, 1262, 1264, 1269, 1277f , 1339, 1341,
–– Circolo della Fibula 292, 893 1344, 1347, 1402, 1458, 1566, 1570, 1572,
–– Poggio del Castello 1057 1574, 1601, 1607ff., 1615, 1617–1620, 1624,
Marta, river 396, 1246, 1286 1626, 1628–1631, 1639–1650, 1653, 1658,
Martanum 396 1662, 1669, 1671ff., 1676, 1681, 1683ff.,
Martelli, Marina 1023, 1095, 1322 1695, 1697, 1699, 1702ff., 1709, 1711,
Martha, Jules 72, 84, 89, 97 1713f., 1716, 1723f., 1727, 1733
Martial, M. Valerius 41, 526 Megara 14, 1659, 1662
Martianus Capella 43, 312, 715 Megara Hyblaea, see Megara Iblea
Martijanec 1593 Megara Iblea 1654f., 1657ff., 1662, 1664
Marzabotto 143, 154, 159, 188, 296, 401, 418, Meiser, Gerhard 104
478, 635f, 959, 972f., 987, 1010, 1024f., Melandri, Gianluca 1401
1049f., 1056, 1124, 1130, 1146, 1308, 1330, Melanippus 966
1332, 1437, 1444, 1446f–1450, 1508, 1514, Melfi 1552–1555, 1557f.
1517 –– Tomb
Marzano, Annalisa 1219 –– – 48 Pisciolo: 1555
Mason, Phil 1589 –– – 58 Cappuccini: 1555
Massaciuccoli 400, 1244, 1248 –– – F Chiuchiari: 1555
Massa Lubrense 1384 Meliton 1383
Massa Marittima 399, 425, 430, 435f., 1006, Memnon 479, 845
1015, 1320 Mende 1144
Massalia 384, 464, 945, 1021, 1264, 1271, 1607, Mendolito 1654, 1657
1609, 1619, 1631, 1688, 1713 Men(e)rva 293, 300, 302f., 307f., 863, 896, 952,
Mastarna/Macstarna 41, 129, 133, 548, 669 963, 966, 1005, 1007f., 1051, 1059, 1066,
Mastia 1649 1123, 1257f., 1266, 1278
Matalia, see Massalia Mengarelli, Raniero 881, 1260, 1265
Matelica 925, 927–931, 1479f., 1483, 1490f. Menippe 14
Mater Matuta 618, 964, 1004, 1133, 1541 Mercurius 479f.
Matves, Larth 988 Merenptah 24
Matz, Friedrich 23 Merhart, Gero von 1585, 1597
Matzanni 1671 Merse 427, 1300
Mazzarino, Santo 694 Mesopotamia/Mesopotamian 76, 112, 209,
McConatha, Douglas 532 341–346, 358, 562, 605
Mechel 1568 Messene 15
Medici, family 55, 57, 428, 1328 Messerschmidt, Franz 85
Medicina 1455, 1471 Messina 15, 585, 1653f., 1657–1661
Medinet Habu 372 Metaponto 1143, 1146, 1153–1559
Mediterranean 6, 13, 20f., 27, 69, 71, 73, 111, Metauros 1557, 1560
113f., 143, 145f., 150f., 156, 158f., 197, 208, Meteli, Aule 1166, 1179f., 1211
210, 218, 264, 341f., 352, 372, 377, 383, Metellus, Aulus, see Meteli, Aule
385, 413, 543, 493, 495, 505, 517, 537, 546, Metl 469
550, 567f., 578, 581–585, 588f., 591–594, Metopengattung 861, 1277
597, 599f., 607, 617, 621, 645–649, 652, Metrodorus of Scepsis 701
654, 656, 660f., 723, 736, 797, 799, 804, Metron/Metru 995, 1147, 1690
811f., 817, 821ff., 832, 836f., 869, 871, 902, Mevania, see Bevagna
921ff., 936, 944, 948, 972, 983, 992, 1018, Meyer, Eduard 21
1020f., 1055, 1063, 1066, 1088, 1095, 1111, Mezentius 124, 129
1141f., 1144, 1153, 1161, 1164, 1167, 1169, Mezzano, valley 1447

Index 1803
Miari, Monica 1470 –– Chibbò 1654, 1662

Micali, Giuseppe 22, 61 –– Circeo 1534
Midas, king 833 –– Copiolo 1455, 1457
Middle Ages 1, 19, 44, 71, 73, 233, 240, 428, –– Coronato 430
448, 715, 1267 –– Falerno 1395
Middle East 836 –– Falterona 1124, 1134, 1239, 1325
Migliarini, Arcangelo Michele 96 –– Gai 435
Migliorie di San Paolo, see Caere –– Gauro 1395
Mignone, river 1220, 1263, 1274 –– Gualandro 334
Milan 1522 –– Labbro 1247
Milazzo 1654, 1657, 1659 –– Mario 1255
Miletos/Miletus 130, 143, 153, 155f., 211, 453, –– Massico 1395
954, 1018, 1374, 1421, 1686f., 1699 –– Michele 859, 890, 1256
–– Sanctuary of Aphrodite 156, 1018, 1686, 1699 –– Olladiri 1675
Milithuna 1383 –– Perticara 1455, 1457
Mincio, river 1501f., 1508ff., 1600 –– Rolo 1494
Mineo 1654, 1657, 1662 –– Rombolo 430
Minervino Murge 1557f. –– Roncione 1255
Minio, river, see Mignone, river –– San Mauro 1654, 1656, 1658
Minotaur 237, 239 –– Sant’Angelo 420
Minto, Antonio 65, 428 –– Sirai 1673ff.
Minturno 1411 –– Soratte 667, 1544
Mirador de Rolando 1729 –– Spinosa 430
Mirandola 1449 –– Tifata 1407f.
Misa/Misala 634, 1446, 1448 –– Tolfaccia 439, 544
Misano 1448 –– Tosto 1260
Mit Rahineh 1704 –– Valerio 430, 432, 451
Mlach 300, 304 –– Vesuvius 569, 1359, 1395f., 1419, 1421
Mogetios, see Mucetis Montecatini 1248
Moldau, river 1630 Montecchio 302, 1179
Monastir 1675 Montecorvino Rovella 1373
Monédière 1717 Montecristo 399
Mont Lassois 1622 Montediano 473, 475, 479
Montagna di Marzo 1654, 1662 Montedinove 926
Montagnana 567, 1588 Montefiascone 552, 556, 1153
Montalcino 302, 305 Montefortini 856, 1331
Montalto di Castro 397, 1282 Montefortino di Arcevia 1091, 1494
Monte Monteleone di Spoleto 413f., 975
–– Amiata 427, 429, 452, 1241, 1245–1248, 1275 Monteluce 1287
–– Argentario 1245, 1252 Montepulciano 58
–– Arsenti 435 Montepulciano, lake 1248
–– Bibele 1146 Monterano 547, 549, 552, 556, 1263
–– Bubbonia 1654, 1664 Montereggi 514
–– Calamita 445f., 449 Montericco 1456, 1470, 1471f.
–– Caleone 1588 Monteriggioni 58, 730, 732, 865, 1311, 1313,
–– Calvi 432 1318
–– Campanile 1256 Monterotondo Marittimo 439
–– Capanne 445, 452 Monterozzi (necropolis), see Tarquinia
–– Castellazzo di Poggioreale 1658 Montescaglioso 1554, 1556f.

1804 Index
Montescudaio 208f., 547, 842f., 889, 1312 –– Leiden, Rijksmuseum van Oudheden 1179
Montetosto, see Monte Tosto –– Liverpool, National Museum 528
Montevetrano 588, 1368 –– London, British Museum 222, 226, 236, 363,
Monti 378ff., 381, 512, 605f., 861, 1062, 1594
–– Ceriti 1260, 1264ff –– Naples, Archaeological Museum 1421, 1559
–– Cimini 667, 1273, 1544 –– New York, Metropolitan Museum 845
–– della Tolfa 425, 427, 438, 1016, 1263f., 1273 –– Paris, Louvre 378, 657, 863, 964, 983, 1164
–– dell’Uccellina 1245 –– University of Missouri, Museum of Art and
–– di Campiglia 425, 427f., 430, 432f., 439 Archaeology 375
–– Ernici 1252 –– Zagreb, National Museum 99, 1705
–– Maures 1714 Mušja jama 1595
–– Rognosi 427 Musti, Domenico 695
–– Volsini 1426 Mutina 672f.
Montieri 430 Mycene/Mycenaeans 562, 581, 583, 591
Montlaurès 1713, 1715 Myron 70
Montmorot 1505 Myson 333
Mount, see Monte
Mounts/mountains, see Monti Nanas 14
Moravia 1607, 1610, 1617, 1630f. Naples
Morbihan 1716 –– Hypogeum of the Cristallini 650
Morel, Jean-Paul 159, 384f Narce 291, 296, 416, 544, 547, 549, 857, 861f.,
Moretti, Mario 1260 923, 1149, 1210, 1258f., 1340, 1544
Moretti Sgubini, Anna Maria 1275 Narnia 668, 715
Morgan, Catherine 1034 Naso, Alessandro 279, 285, 306, 879, 923f.,
Morgantina 1654, 1662 936, 1260, 1522, 1541, 1586, 1689, 1697,
Morrius, king 123, 1253 1258 1701f.
Motto Fontanile 1504 Naucratis 143, 151, 1002f., 1695, 1697, 1699,
Motya/Mozia 1654, 1657ff., 1696 1702, 1713, 1727
Mount, mounts see Monte, Monti Naxos 14, 1654, 1657ff.
Mucetis 1109 Neapolis, see Naples
Mucigliano 302 Neapolis in Sardinia 1675
Mugello 1245, 1332 Near East 6, 21, 25, 75, 112f., 148, 208ff., 280,
Mulin Canale 1323f. 292, 311, 320f., 341–352, 394, 407, 493,
Müller, Karl Otfried 19, 61, 96 525, 527, 537, 541, 581–608, 621, 789, 791,
Mura Pregne 1654, 1659 811, 821f., 831–834, 836, 840–843, 851ff.,
Murlo 66, 112, 199, 201f., 212f., 224, 229, 285, 855, 857, 859ff., 864, 869f., 877, 885, 888,
292, 487, 498ff., 547, 549, 601, 623, 630, 921f., 1270, 1367, 1369f., 1443, 1448, 1538,
638, 837ff., 855, 858, 865, 877, 881, 951f., 1544, 1672
991, 1314, 1467, 1701 Nearchos 1702
Murphy, Martin 532 Negau 173f., 989, 1559, 1595, 1629
Musarna 132, 552, 556, 1054, 1102ff., 1107, 1124, Negova, see Negau
1175 Nekyia 1071
Museums Nemi, lake 1252
–– Cambridge, Fitzwilliam Museum 374f. Neolithic age 486, 561f., 24, 109, 112ff.
–– Città del Vaticano, Musei Vaticani 1149 Nepi 420, 547, 552, 556, 667, 1210, 1259, 1274
–– Copenhagen, Danish National Museum 527 Nestor 1072, 1142f.
–– Fermo, City Museum 1486 Nestor’s cup 843
–– Haifa, Maritime Museum 375 Nethuns 292, 302, 306, 1005, 1740
–– Karlsruhe, Badisches Landesmuseum 512 Niccioleta 435

Index 1805
Nicosia, Francesco 1330, 1671, 1674 Oliena 1671

Nidda-Borsdorf 1626 Oliveto Citra 1367, 1373, 1555, 1557
Niebuhr, Barthold Georg 19, 22, 61 Olmedo 1675
Niemeyer, Hans-Georg 1699 Olmo Bello (necropolis), see Bisenzio
Nigidius Figulus, P. 43, 45, 312, 711, 1002, 1206 Olympia 42, 124, 155, 169, 173, 225, 823, 1002,
Nikaia 550 1062, 1304, 1461, 1655, 1679, 1681–1685,
Nile, river 150, 599, 1271 1689, 1691, 1703
Nimrud 601, 834, 836 Olzscha, Karl 101f.
Nineveh/Ninive 346, 605 Ombrone, river 398, 1242, 1244, 1248, 1300,
Nogara, Bartolomeo 99, 1305, 1312, 1314
Noicattaro 1551, 1548, 1558f. Ombrone, valley 855, 1137, 1245,1344, 1350
Nola 640, 1142, 1359, 1395–1398, 1404, 1406, Ominimorti, grave 22: 1544
1414f., 1419, 1421ff., 1553 Omphale 16, 510
–– Torricelle 1421 Onatas 693
–– – Tomb 98: 1421 Opikoi 1395f., 1403, 1416
–– – Tomb 112 :1421 Oppeano 567, 1568f.
–– – Tomb 308: 1421 Oppido Lucano 1554, 1556f.
Nonnweiler-Schwarzenbach 1624, 1628 Orbetello 175, 391, 393, 397, 552, 556, 671, 1055,
Nora 1673ff. 1182, 1244, 1248, 1278
Norchia 132, 298, 420, 549, 552, 555f., 659, 747, Ordona 1557f.
1102, 1104, 1273f. Orgonius 1153
North Rhine-Westphalia 1610, 1612 Oria 930, 1557f.
North Syria/North Syrians 546, 601, 604, 821, Oristano, gulf 1672, 1675
1303, 1538, 1669 Orontes, river 584
Nortia 1207, 1283 Orpheus 47, 89, 362, 863, 948, 1204f.
Nougayrol, Jean 341 Orsara di Puglia 1557
Notranjsko 1595 Orsi, Paolo 585
Novilara 1453, 1480, 1484, 1489 Ortaglia 1149, 1152, 1312
Novo Mesto 930f., 1569, 1571, 1598 Orto Granara 1454f.
Nuceria 1361, 1374ff., 1384, 1388 Orvieto 64, 135, 150, 174, 183– 187, 189, 215f.,
–– Tomb 107 1375 231, 266, 296, 299, 334, 418ff., 477, 508,
Nulathe 1421 511, 517, 527, 544, 547–552, 561, 564, 566,
Nulathe, Larth 482, 1135 576, 634, 636f. 640, 700, 798, 860, 943,
Numana 415, 1146, 1480, 1492f., 1546 954, 959, 976, 979ff., 985, 987, 989, 991,
Nuoro 596, 1676 994, 996, 1007, 1024, 1050, 1059–1063,
Nuraminis 1675 1073, 1080, 1083, 1088, 1103, 1107f., 1110,
Nuraghe/Nuragics 1674f. 1125f., 1148f., 1162, 1239, 1245f., 1252,
Nurra 590, 1672, 1675 1282ff., 1324, 1492, 1545, 1728
–– – Belvedere 1050, 1061f., 1283, 1505
Ocnus 1287 –– – Cannicella 64, 276, 299, 959, 1007, 1126,
Octavian, see Augustus 1282f.
Odysseus, see Ulysses –– – Crocefisso del Tufo 64, 187, 267, 636f., 996,
Oenotri/Oenotria/Oenotrians 545, 751, 1361f., 1282–1285
1367, 1375, 1551–1554 –– – Pozzo San Patrizio 1282
Ofanto, valley 1373, 1555 –– – San Leonardo 300, 1283
Oglio, river 1501, 1505, 1508, 1521 –– Tombs
Ogulnius, Cn. 689, 1193 –– – Hescanas 1071, 1108, 1285
Ogulnius Gallus, Q. 689, 1122, 1193 –– – Golini I: 185, 215f., 508, 1071, 1103, 1108,
Olbia in Sardinia 1674f. 1125, 1285

1806 Index
–– – Golini II: 1103, 1285 –– Kodros 1145, 1149

Ossaia 1220, 1329 –– London E 777 1146
Osteria (necropolis), see Vulci –– London F 484 1082
Osteria dell’Osa 923, 1535ff. –– Makron 1407
–– Grave 482: 1536 –– Marlay 1149
–– Grave 600: 1537 –– Meidias 1145, 1149
Ostia 1208, 1239, 1247 –– Meleager 1145
Othoca 605 1675 –– Mesagne 1146
Otricoli 925 –– Micali 222, 226f., 371, 379, 943, 950f., 955,
Ovidius, P. Naso 54, 40, 1004, 230, 506 981, 996, 1080, 1280, 1559
–– Narce 861f.
Pacciarelli, Marco 585, 1274, 1535, 1586, 1595ff. –– Nascita di Menerva (Birth of Menerva) 863
Padova/Padua 567, 1587 –– Nepi 1082
–– Tomb 318: 1587 –– Oedipus 1080
–– Tomba dei Vasi Borchiati 1587 –– Paris 980f., 1280
–– Tomba del Re 1587 –– Penelope 1149
Padula 1554, 1556f. –– Penthesilea 1080, 1690
Paestum 222, 227, 658, 671, 1361f. –– Perugia 1081
Paglia, river 637, 1246, 1282 –– Praxias 995
Painter –– Senza Graffiti 1699
–– Aberdeen 1146 –– Settecamini 1083
–– Achilles 1080 –– Sfinge Barbuta (Bearded Sphinx) 864, 1277
–– Aison 1145 –– Sokra(tes) 1718
–– Amsterdam 863 –– The Hague 1084
–– Amykos 1082 –– Vanth 1083
–– Antimenes 1384 –– Vatican Biga 1083
–– Argonauts 1081f. –– Vienna 4008: 1082
–– Argos 861, 1146 –– Villa Giulia 1085
–– Aristophanes 1149 –– Villa Giulia 8361: 1082
–– Athens 12255 1145 Pairault-Massa, Françoise-Hélène 74, 76
–– Berlin 2536 956, 1149 Palaemon 470, 1003
–– Bologna 824, 1081 Palaja 1152
–– Boreas 1517 Palamedes 479f
–– Calliope 1145 Palazzina 1323
–– Castellani 1421 Palazzone (necropolis), see Perugia
–– Cavalli Allungati (Stretched Horses) 236f., 861 Palermo 227, 960, 962, 1654, 1658f.
–– Cesnola 1275 Palestine 342ff., 584, 834
–– Del Chiaro 1082 Palestrina, see Praeneste
–– Diomedes 1145 Pallottino, Massimo 2, 4, 27f., 61, 65f., 74, 85,
–– Diosphos 1408 101ff., 224, 569, 1266, 1487ff.
–– Eptacordo (Heptachord) 237, 515, 862f. Palma 18
–– Eretria 1145, 1149 Palmithe 473, 479
–– Euergides 1408 Palo 394f.
–– Fauvel 1145 Panaro, river 1437, 1444, 1446, 1505
–– Florence 1517 Pandolfini, Maristella 104
–– Gru (Cranes) 862 Pani Loriga 1675
–– Jena 1082, 1145, 1152 Panofsky, Erwin 74, 79
–– Kape 996 Pantalica 1654, 1656f.
–– Kleophrades 956, 1384 Papirius Carbo, Cn. 1200, 1705

Index 1807
Papirius Cursor, L. 842 Perugia 2, 58, 63, 76, 96, 184, 188, 190, 250,
Pare, Christopher 1621, 1628 260–267, 270, 287, 296, 298, 300, 302,
Pareti, Luigi 23 334, 408, 410, 494, 514, 539, 544, 547,
Paribeni, Enrico 85 549, 552, 554–559, 575f., 677, 687, 705,
Parma 672f. 959, 961, 975, 978, 1010, 1021, 1055, 1081,
Paros 1065 1088, 1101f., 1105, 1111, 1113, 1153, 1165,
Parthenope 1404 1194, 1211, 1215, 1217f., 1239, 1245, 1248,
Parthia/Parthians 343f 1251f., 1282, 1287, 1493, 1524, 1574, 1705
Pasquali, Giorgio 124, 1540 –– Palazzone 1287
Passeri, Giovan Battista 58 –– Porta di Augusto 1055
Pastorano, river 1381 –– Porta Marzia 1055, 1287
Pataras, Laris 996 –– Pozzo San Patrizio 1282
Paternò 1654, 1657, 1163, 1665 –– Strozzacapponi 494
Patroklos 493 –– Tomba dei Volumni/Volumnii 184, 687, 704,
Pauli, Carl 97, 99 709, 1287
Pauli, Ludwig 1630 Perusia, see Perugia
Paulilatino 1671 Peruzzi, Baldassarre 55
Pausanias 42, 510, 1682f. Pesaro 359, 1480, 1493f.
Pech Maho 144, 385, 1021, 1713, 1715, 1717 Pescia Romana 397, 544, 870, 1252, 1275, 1278
Peccioli 1149, 1152, 1312 Pethan 300, 302, 303
Pecora, river 438, 1248 Peuceti/Peucetia 151, 1146, 1557, 1558f.
Peithesa 469 Pézenas 1713, 1715
Pelargian Wall 16 Pfatten, see Vadena
Pelasgi/Pelasgians 12–19, 23, 26f., 37f., 58, 71, Pfiffig, Ambros Josef 25
395, 397, 402, 541, 1260, 1376 Phaillos 1141, 1143
Pelasgus 14 Phaone 1148
Peloponnese 12, 15, 1414, 1689 Phersipnai 300, 1005
Peloponnesian War 14, 1082, 1144, 1273, 1718 Philip II, king 646f., 652
Peña Negra 1724 Philistines 1669
Pennabilli 1455, 1472 Philistus 1361, 1387
Peñon de la Reina 1724 Phocaea/Phocaeans 13, 129, 223, 384, 399,
Penthe, Larce 482, 1135 401, 453, 548, 550, 945, 954, 1021ff., 1264,
Penthesilea 83, 1080, 1690 1384, 1609, 1641, 1643f., 1650, 1700, 1704,
Perachora 735, 1686f., 1702 1711ff., 1715, 1718, 1723ff., 1733
Percenna 1351 Phoenicia/Phoenicians 38, 65, 76, 114, 129, 144,
Peretola 1331 146, 149, 151, 157, 197–201, 208, 210, 245,
Pergamon/Pergamum 647f., 1165, 1180 249, 267, 292, 294, 321, 394, 445, 452,
Perkena/Perkna, family 1351 525, 545f., 548, 569, 581–591, 595–608,
Perkins, John Bryan Ward 28, 1341 634, 800, 802, 811, 821f., 832, 834, 836,
Perkins, Philip 28, 1702 843, 853, 855, 857, 860, 863f., 893, 907,
Peroni, Renato 6, 540, 543, 573, 763, 765, 1361, 909f. 936, 994, 1002f., 1006, 1110, 1205,
1487f., 1594 1260, 1277, 1299, 1366, 1369, 1403, 1536,
Persephone 293, 296, 300, 311, 1005, 1070, 1538, 1572, 1586, 1646, 1653, 1656, 1669,
1125 1671–1676, 1684, 1721, 1723f., 1726, 1733
Perseus 470, 1524 Phoenix 1072
Persia/Persians 12ff., 548, 550, 639, 646, 834, Photius 510
945, 1058, 1264, 1271 Phrastor 14
Persian Wars 12f., 1148 Phrygians 16
Persius Flaccus, Au. 703 Phthiotis 12

1808 Index
Piacenza 280, 307, 341f., 363, 1206, 1415 Plautius Silvanus, M. 709
Pian di Castello 1312 Plikaśna 238, 857, 1322
Pian di Rocca 398 Pliny the Elder 18, 22, 42, 55, 126, 240, 396,
Pian di Venola 1444 445, 457, 506, 510, 648, 839, 1133, 1444,
Piana del Lago 1162 1522, 1534
Pianacce 1323f. Plutarch 42, 362, 538, 692, 923, 1199, 1220,
Pianello 1457 1647
Pianmiano 675 Pluto 960, 962
Piano di Civita, see Tarquinia Po, river 401, 541, 955, 995, 1057, 1110, 1446f.,
Piano di Sorrento 1374 1503, 1508, 1521, 1524, 1576, 1600
Pianosa 399 Po Plain 18, 37, 39, 85, 110, 123, 128, 143, 145f.,
Piantata 1286 154, 157, 159, 189, 207, 222, 227, 288, 296,
Piave, river 1587 300, 329, 418f., 543, 553, 570ff., 635, 640,
Picenes/Picenians/Picenum 157, 172, 415, 651, 779, 812, 887, 890, 931, 933, 943, 954f.
855, 874, 921, 926, 929f., 1025, 1089, 973, 983, 1013, 1022, 1024–1026, 1055,
1091, 1094, 1533, 1544, 1595, 1703 1057f., 1102, 1129, 1130f., 1141f., 1144,
Picentia 1361 1146, 1152, 1197, 1245, 1283, 1343, 1362,
Picentino, river 588, 1366, 1373, 1404 1437, 1438, 1441, 1444f., 1489, 1507, 1517,
Piediluco 592 1551, 1553, 1558, 1565ff. 1570ff., 1576f.,
Piedmont 540, 933, 1501, 1565, 1663 1594, 1612, 1623, 1688
Pietramarina 1331 Po Valley, see Po Plain
Pietrasanta 400, 471, 934 Poble Nou 1728
Pietrisco, river 422 Podere
Pieve Socana 1325 –– Altini 435
Piganiol, André 25 –– Cosciano 1220
Pigorini, Luigi 22 –– I Cancellini 432
Pindar 37, 551 –– Tartuchino 1014ff., 1022
Pinie, family 467, 996, 1272 Poggio
Piombino 399 –– Aguzzo 487, 1315, 1319, 1321
Piordo, river 1255f. –– Alto 1057, 1349ff.
Pirithoos 1070 –– alla Guardia 590f., 1303
Pisa 57f., 134, 145, 250, 334, 391, 393, 398ff., –– all’Aione 430
428, 451, 469, 478, 510, 544, 547–552, –– al Marmo 400
556, 639, 674, 934, 1102, 1143, 1148f., –– al Montone 437
1152f., 1199, 1239, 1244, 1248, 1312, 1333, –– Berni 543, 1455, 1457
1444, 1620, 1647 –– Bruscoline 435
Pisaeus Tyrrheni 371, 374 –– Buco 544, 547, 549, 628f., 637, 910, 1282
Pisticci 1555f. –– Casetta 1162
Pistoia 55, 1152, 1248 –– Colla 1301, 1331f.
Pithecusa 148f., 546, 772, 832, 934, 1275, 1366, –– Civitate 224, 498ff., 911f., 951, 1299–1302,
1369, 1403, 1553, 1659 1306f., 1312–1322, 1344
Pitigliano 420, 544, 547, 549, 888f., 1282 –– del Sole 1325
Pitino di San Severino 925, 927, 929 –– dell’Asino 923, 1260
Pivola 1593 –– dell’Impiccato 507, 786, 1267f.
Plato 159, 243, 1589 –– della Sorgente 1267
Plauti Laterani, family 709, 710 –– Evangelista 1286
Plauti Silvani, family 709, 710 –– Falchetto 1286
Plautia Urgulanilla 710 –– Gallinaro 230, 865, 1267f., 1270
Plautius, Novius 652 –– Guardiola 1309

Index 1809
–– Malinverno 438 –– – Sant’Antonio 296, 474, 764, 896f., 1053,

–– Maremma 1274f., 1135, 1137, 1207f. 1671
–– Quarto degli Archi 1267f. –– Tombs
–– Renzo 1322 –– – 74: 1367
–– Selciatello 1267f. –– – 111: 924, 1367
–– Selciatello di Sopra 334, 1267f. –– – 180: 1365
–– Sommavilla 576, 925, 1544f –– – 889: 1365
–– Tondo 1349 –– – 926: 323f., 1370
Poggiomarino 1362 –– – 928: 323, 325, 1370f.
Poiseul-la-Ville 932, 1504, 1612 –– – 2465: 875, 1371f
Poland 815, 1618, 1630 –– – 2500: 1365
Polanyi, Karl 1133 –– – 3509: 633, 1372f.
Polizzello 1654, 1656 –– – 4461: 1369f
Polledrara 488, 493, 597, 1275, 1286 –– – 6034: 1373
Polles 1148, 1204 Pontesanto 1454, 1456
Polybius 39, 638, 1021, 1225ff., 1649, 1700 Popilius, C. 1176
Polyclitus/Polykleitos 70, 1062 Popluna, goddess 1418
Polynices 669 Populonia 65f., 134, 146f., 150, 155, 174, 250,
Polyphemus 212, 844, 863 282, 296, 306, 333f., 391, 393, 398ff., 410,
Polyxena 946, 1514 411, 413, 417, 422, 425, 427f., 433f., 438,
Pomerance 1312 445, 447ff., 451–456, 463–470, 478, 507,
Pompeii 475, 486, 635, 1182, 1359, 1364, 512, 514, 540, 544, 547ff., 551f., 556, 576,
1374–1381, 1386, 1388, 1421 591, 593, 598, 607, 694f., 740, 745f., 765,
–– Altstadt 1377, 1379 802f., 815, 817, 819, 857, 905, 995, 1013,
–– Bottaro 1381 1016f., 1023f., 1054f., 1101f., 1108, 1110,
–– Casa della Colonna Etrusca 1377 1129, 1136, 1142, 1147ff., 1152f., 1155, 1165,
–– Fondo Iozzino 1381 1215f., 1299f., 1303, 1306–1310, 1318,
–– Old city 1377 1320f., 1522, 1642, 1690, 1739f.
–– Sanctuary of Apollo 1368, 1378, 1679 –– – Baratti 333, 399, 433f., 439, 452, 454, 456,
–– Sant’Abbondio 1480 1016, 1054, 1147, 1216, 1308ff.
–– Triangular Forum 1379 –– – Cala San Quirico 1054
Pompeius Trogus, Cn. 18, 41 –– – Falda della Guardiola 282
Pomponius Mela 393 –– – Le Grotte 1110
Ponte Messa 1472 –– – Poggio della Porcareccia 1016f.
Ponte Rotto 1122, 1274, 1278, 1281 –– – San Cerbone 174, 1216
Pontecagnano 148, 186, 282f., 321, 323–326, –– – Tumulo dei Carri 410f., 417, 507
328, 402, 537, 543, 563, 575, 585, 587f., Porano 1108, 1284
625, 627, 633, 636, 638, 744ff., 751, 764, Porcius Cato, M. 695
785f., 789, 799, 817, 820, 822f., 857, Porquerolles, island 1716
874f., 936, 1359, 1361, 1362, 1363–1366, Porsenna 55, 129, 133, 360, 550, 634, 986,
1368–1373, 1376, 1381–1384, 1387, 1389, 1059, 1283, 1322, 1542,
1398, 1404, 1415, 1545, 1552ff., 1615 Port of Argo 1142
–– – Bisogno 764 Portitxol 1726
–– – Casella 1368 Porto
–– – ECI 321 –– Azzurro 398, 454
–– – Lago Piccolo 1364 –– delle Conche 400
–– – Pagliarone 1364, 1368 –– Madonna 1286
–– – Piazza Sabbato 1383 –– Vecchio 1646, 1648
–– – Sanctuary of Apollo 1368, 1378, 1679 Portonaccio, see Veii

1810 Index
Portovecchio 399 Pruślna, family 1281

Portunus 470 Przęsławice 815, 1610
Portus Augusti (Porto) 393 Ps.-Aristotle, see Aristotle
Portus Pisanus 399f. Ptolemy II 648
Portus Siracusanus 1141 Pürgen 1614, 1662
Posada 1676 Puglia, see Apulia
Poseidonia 402, 1361, 1376, 1378f., 1381–1385, Puinel, Karthazies 1701
1387ff. Pule 1148, 1204
Posidonius 39, 48, 188, 242, 1104, 1193 Puleisnai, Kuvei 634
Postel, Guillaume 57 Pulena, Laris 358, 364, 1148, 1204f.
Postumius, pirate 1147, 1389 Pulena, family 358, 1272
Postumius Megellus, L. 554 Pumpu, family 1272
Poštela 1591 Pumpun 1705
Potentino 1554 Punicum 1252
Potter Punta
–– Erginos 1149 –– Braccetto 1654, 1661
–– Hieron 1407 –– Campanella 1376
–– Nikosthenes 1690 –– della Vipera 302, 361, 1120, 1123
Pottier, Edmond 25 –– Galèra, see Ustica
Poulsen, Fredrick 84 Puntata di Fonteblanda 1252
Pozzatella 1274, 1278 Punics 1004, 1065, 1650, 1750
Pozzomaggiore 1675 Pupluna 466, 1308
Pozzuoli, see Dicaearchia Puteoli, see Dicaearchia
Pozzuolo 471, 1254, 1256 Putto
Praeneste 198f., 323, 410, 480, 651f., 661, 832f., –– Corazzi 1179
852ff., 856f., 860, 878f., 924f., 1229, 1403, –– Graziani 1179
1535, 1537f. Pyrgi 65f., 76, 102, 129, 143, 150f., 158, 188,
–– Sanctuary of Fortuna 661 202, 267, 294–298, 302, 309ff., 382, 391,
–– Tombs 393–397, 420, 548ff., 552f., 555f., 618,
–– – Barberini 410, 853f., 878f., 1537f. 620, 634f., 670, 909, 963f., 966f., 986,
–– – Bernardini 198, 323, 832, 845, 857, 853, 994, 1001–1004, 1008, 1021, 1049f., 1053,
924, 1537f. 1062, 1064, 1093, 1102, 1123f., 1133, 1141,
–– – Galeassi 852, 1537 1148, 1152, 1209, 1219f., 1252, 1266f., 1700,
Praetutia 18 1727
Prato 635, 1152 –– Area Sud 1053
Prato Magno 1248 –– Temple B 151, 294f., 309ff., 618, 634, 965,
Prato Ranieri 439 1003, 1050, 1124, 1266, 1700
Praxias, Arnth(e) 995, 1079 Pyrgoteles 656
Praxitelean/Praxiteles 70, 1063f., 1066f. Pyrrhos/Pyrrhus 654, 661, 1649
Prayon, Friedhelm 321, 881 Pythagoras of Samos 42, 240, 330, 660, 1205,
Preara 1570 1560
Precu, family 1287
Predda Niedda 1675 Quarata 297
Prestino 1136, 1152, 1522, 1568 Quattro Fontanili (necropolis), see Veii
Prins de Jong, Erika 1697 Quintilian, M. Fabius 70
Procida 1395 Quinto Fiorentino 1615
Propertius, king 40, 123, 1253, 1258 –– – Montagnola 1320, 1331
Provence 548, 1711, 1713, 1718 –– – Mula 1331
Providence 1085, 1600 Quinzano d’Oglio 1506

Index 1811
Quyunjik, see Nineveh Ripa Calbana 1455, 1457

Ripacandida 1554
Raeti/Raetia 18, 20, 22, 27 Ripatransone 926, 1480
Rahmstorf, Lorenz 1628 Riserva del Bagno (necropolis), see Veii
Rakob, Friedrich 1699 Risorgimento 19, 26, 96, 1369f., 1382
Ramacca 1654, 1658f. Rio Marina 435, 439, 446, 448f.
Ramesses III 24 Rittatore Vonwiller, Ferrante 539
Raoul-Rochette, Desiré 83 Riu Mannu-Samassi, river 1675
Rapinium 396 Rix, Helmut 101, 103ff., 687, 1192, 1198
Ras el-Bassit 584 Roca/Rocavecchia 571, 1557, 1559
Rasenanus 1493 Rocca di Morro 813
Rasenna 17, 20, 22, 27, 29, 622, 624, 633, 1480, Rocca San Silvestro 428
1493 Roccanova 1554–1557
Rasmussen, Tom 1504, 1506, 1554, 1559, 1618, Roccastrada 430
1658, 1685, 1697, 1725f. Rofalco 1349
Rathje, Annette 877 Romagna 170, 319, 408, 537, 543, 577, 753, 922,
Ravazzi, Cesare 1508 1286, 1444, 1446, 1453–1473, 1479, 1488,
Ravenna 402, 1471, 1664 1533, 1664, 1683
Ré, Adele 532 Rome 1f., 4–7, 15f., 18, 35, 39ff., 43, 48, 53f.,
Regae/Regisvilla 391, 393, 397, 635, 1252, 1278 57f., 63f., 66, 105, 123ff., 127, 129ff., 135,
Reggio Calabria 1557 147, 153, 154, 158, 183, 185, 189f., 203, 210,
Reggio Emilia 418, 478, 543, 1449, 1507 212f., 223, 225, 228–231, 235, 239ff., 254,
Remedello Sotto 1506ff. 277f., 286, 288, 292, 298, 311, 328, 360f.,
Remus 894 363ff., 393, 395, 399, 412, 416, 420, 425,
Renaissance 1, 26, 57, 71, 73, 428, 430, 438 467f., 473, 476, 480ff., 506, 511f., 530f.,
Renard, Marcel 26 537, 541, 546, 548, 550, 553–559, 567,
Rendeli, Marco 1344 569, 577, 599, 617f., 631, 633–641, 645f.,
Renfrew, Colin 1022, 1596 648, 651–654, 659ff., 665–678, 680, 685,
Reno, river 1437, 1446, 1448f. 689, 691, 695f., 700f., 703f.,706, 709, 711,
Rhaetia/Rhaetians 1210 714f., 759, 762f., 771, 775, 837, 844, 870,
Rhegium 15 874, 879, 948, 952f., 963f., 983, 989f.,
Rhein/Rhine, river 1572, 1574, 1609f., 1623f., 993f., 1018, 10221ff., 1053f., 1062f., 1072,
1626, 1663 1087, 1091, 1101, 1103f., 1106ff., 1110, 1112,
Rhodes/Rhodians 25, 157, 926, 1036f., 1216, 1118–1123, 1129, 1132ff., 1136, 1138, 1141,
1552, 1554f., 1558, 1560, 1621, 1643, 1663, 1152f., 1155, 1161–1164, 1174f., 1191–1194,
1687, 1702f., 1724 1196, 1198, 1204, 1209ff., 1215, 1219f.,
Rhône, river 457f., 1607, 1609, 1630f., 1711, 1223ff., 1228, 1230ff., 1239, 1241, 1245,
1713, 1715ff. 1247, 1251ff., 1255ff., 1259, 1266f., 1269,
Rhotanos 1643 1273f., 1281–1287, 1347f., 1369, 1445,
Riccardina 1447 1447, 1450, 1490, 1533–1537, 1540ff., 1546,
Ricci, hydria 203 1596, 1631, 1641, 1644–1949, 1700f.
Ridgway, David 734, 1536 –– Aventine Hill 1541
Riegl, Alois 73 –– Caelian Hill 1540
Rieti 1533, 1543 –– Capitoline Hill 124, 311, 952, 1209, 1541f.
Rifnik 1598 –– Circus Maximus 223, 230, 1541
Rimigliano 399 –– Forum Boarium 1541
Rimini 401, 761, 1444, 1617 –– Forum Romanum 660, 1120, 1306, 1542, 1674
Rio Carpena 1472 –– Palatine 582, 775, 1162, 1540f.
Riotinto 589 –– Temple of Jupiter Stator 1231

1812 Index
–– Temple of the Magna Mater 1162 Sala Consilina 537, 575, 751f., 761, 786, 1361f.,
–– Temple of Mars in Circo 1231 1364, 1551, 1554, 1556f.
–– Temple of Mater Matuta 618, 964, 1004, 1133, Salamina/Salamis of Cyprus 603, 840, 1270
1541 Salamina/ Salamis, battle 551
–– Vicus Tuscus 311, 1540, 1542 Salerno/Salernum 402, 1359
Romito di Pozzuolo 471 Salerno, gulf 1359, 1374, 1381, 1388
Romulus 125f., 135, 288, 511, 541, 706, 775, 872, Salii 123, 169, 239, 241, 791
894, 1129, 1253, 1257 Salus 652, 1087
Roncalli, Francesco 88, 89, 329f. Šamaš 342, 345, 348–351
Rondelli 435, 451, 953, 1017 Samnites/Samnium 551, 554, 640, 657, 668,
Rondineto 1503 670, 672, 983, 1102, 1141, 1152, 1388,
–– Tomb Vigna di Mezzo 1503 1396, 1494, 1544, 1704
Roselle 218, 250, 391, 398, 544, 547, 549, 552, Samos 143, 153ff., 327, 823, 909, 954, 1018,
556, 626, 638, 854, 990, 1137f., 1149, 1144, 1271, 1304, 1682, 1684, 1699, 1703
1152, 1215, 1244, 1299, 1300, 1302, 1305ff., San Basilio 401
1312ff., 1318, 1620 San Bennato 439, 455
–– Casa con recinto 1306ff., 1313, 1318 San Bernardino 933, 1286,
–– Casa dell’Impluvium 990, 1302 San Biagio Saracinisco 1544
Rosenberg, Arthur 100 San Giacomo degli Schiavoni 1555, 1557
Roth, Roman Ernst 681 San Giorgio Mantovano 1521
Rouillard, Pierre 1702 San Giovanni in Persiceto 1441, 1444
Roussillon 1714f., 1717 San Giovanni Lipioni 657
Rouveret, Agnès 89 San Giovenale 291, 418, 422, 544, 547, 724ff.,
Rubiera 128, 634, 1444, 1448 728ff., 735f., 987, 1263, 1273
Rudiae 1557f. San Giuliano (necropolis) 544, 547, 549, 552,
Ruscino 1713 1125, 1263, 1273
Rutigliano 1146, 1554, 1557ff., San Giuliano di Puglia 1557f.
Rutile Hipukrates 149, 872f., 922 San Ilario d’Enza 418
Rutilius Namatianus 43, 400, 457 San Lazzaro 1441, 1444
Ruvo di Puglia 1558 San Leo 1457
–– Tomb 103 1558 San Manno 1287
Ruvo del Monte 1555, 1557 San Marino 1457f., 1459
–– Tomb 64 1555 San Mario 1220
San Martino ai Colli 1149
S’Archittu 1675 San Martino in Gattara 1455, 1470f., 1664, 1703
Sa Sedda 1671 San Marzano sul Sarno 1364, 1366
Saar, river 1609, 1623 San Nicola 395
Saarland 1618, 1624, 1628 San Piero a Grado 400, 451, 1143
Sabellians 23 San Piero a Sieve 1332
Sabina/Sabines 125, 541, 672, 921, 923, 925, San Polo d’Enza 296
1258, 1533, 1543f. San Rocchino 400, 934
Sabucina 1654, 1662f. San Rossore 399f.
Sacca di Goito 1501 San Sepolcro 1472
Sacco, river 1533ff., 1544 San Severino 925, 927, 929, 1480, 1490f.
Säflund, Gosta 25 San Severo 1962, 1555, 1557f.
Saguntum 1724 San Sperate 1675
Sakikkû 347 San Valentino di Marsciano 1287
Saint Blaise 152, 1021, 1713, 1718 San Valentino Torio 1364, 1366
Sainte Colombe 1622 San Varano 1444, 1472

Index 1813
San Vero Milis 1675 –– Pisano 1124

Sant’Agata dei due Golfi 1374 Sassoferrato 1480, 1490
Sant’Anatolia di Narco 925 Sassofortino 438
Sant’Angelo 1267, 1480 Satie, family 1072, 1102, 1143, 1149, 1281
Sant’Angelo in Formis 1400 Saties, Vel 361, 488, 658, 1072
Sant’Antonio 296, 474, 729, 764, 896f., 1052f., Satricum 202, 523, 525, 531, 576, 598 1538ff.
1135, 1137, 1207f., 1261, 1265f. –– Hut VI: 1539
Sant’Antonio (Siligo) 1671 –– Hut XIII: 1539
Sant’Imbenia 590, 1672, 1675, –– Sanctuary of Mater Matuta 964
Santa Anastasia di Sardara 596f., 1675 –– Tumulus F: 597, 857
Santa Cecilia 1545 Saturnia 226, 544, 547, 549, 552, 556, 672–675,
Santa Cornelia 1257 692 1014, 1282
Santa Cristina 1671 Satyrion 1557, 1559
Santa Maria a Vico 1373 Sava, river 1589
Santa Marinella 394, 439 Savignano 1441, 1444
Santa Palomba 166, 1536 Savone, river 1417
Santa Severa 394 Scalea 1557, 1560
Santa Vittoria di Serri 1671, 1675 Scansano 1349
Santerno, river 1437, 1444 Scarani, Renato 1459
Santocchini Gerg, Stefano 1673f. Scarceta 801
Sanzeno 1577 Scarlino 430, 438, 1349
Saône, river 1607, 1609, 1630f. Scevaś, Petru 190, 687, 1218, 1351
Saracino, Massimo 1587 Schachermeyr, Fritz 24
Sarcapos 1674 Schnabelkanne/Schnabelkannen 155, 972f.,
Sarcophagus 975, 1521f., 1555, 1558, 1574f., 1607, 1622,
–– – delle Amazzoni (of the Amazons) 493, 653, 1624f., 1630, 1704, 1728f.
1072f. Schnapp, Alain 87
–– – del Sacerdote (of the Priest) 554, 1072 Scipio Africanus Cornelius, P., see Cornelius
–– – Torre San Severo 1062 Scipio Africanus, P.
Sardinia 6, 13, 146f., 238, 241, 398, 433, 449, Sea Peoples 372, 581
545f., 548, 550, 581f., 585, 588ff., 591, Secchia, river 1437, 1444f.
594ff., 598, 605, 607, 638, 763, 802, Seddin 815f., 1610
811f., 817ff., 822, 1239, 1264, 1303, 1365, Segóbriga 1729
1367, 1541, 1596, 1641, 1644, 1646ff., Segura, river 1723
1669–1678, 1696, 1700, 1724, 1726 Seianti, Hanunia Tlesnasa 1111
Sardinian/Sardonian Sea 223, 550, 1700f. Sele, river 151, 1359, 1364, 1368, 1373, 1551,
Sargon II 600f. 1554f.
Sarkad 1612 Sele, valley 1359, 1361, 1373, 1554f.
Sarno, river 1359, 1362, 1378ff. Seleucid, dynasty 343, 344, 647
Sarrasti 1376 Selinunte 1003, 1654, 1657ff., 1662f.
Sarsinati 1287 Selva Ciminia 554
Sarteano 1072ff., 1322ff. Selvans 288, 298, 300, 302f., 308, 1207
–– Tomba della Quadriga Infernale (Tomb of the Semitic people 550, 1723
Infernal Quadriga) 1073 Sentinati, Thania Cumerunia 1164
Sassa 1312 Sentinum 554, 1226, 1287, 1450
Sassatelli, Giuseppe 1131, 1470, 1488 Serchio, river 399, 400, 1248
Sasso Serio, river 1501
–– di Furbara 486, 491, 1260 Serra Niedda 1671, 1675
–– Marconi 1146, 1447 Serra Ridgway, Francesca Romana 734

1814 Index
Serra di Vaglio 1554, 1556f. Slovakia 1630

Serra Sanguigna 1559 Slovenia 173, 930f., 1572, 1589, 1593, 1595,
Serra Sant’Abbondio 1480, 1495 1598f.
Serrabottini 435ff. Smindja 306, 1210
Serracapriola 1555, 1557 Smurinas, family 708
Serri 1671, 1675 Social War 130, 190, 677, 679, 685, 1191, 1196,
Servius 40, 125f., 509, 1438, 1642, 1645 1207, 1232
Servius Tullius 41, 124f., 129, 548, 631, 1022, Solaia 1322ff.
1072, 1206, 1348, 1445, 1540 Solinus, C. Iulius 1642
Sestino 1704 Solofrana, river 1359
Sesto Calende 934, 1501, 1505 Solunto 1658
–– First Tomb of the Warrior 1504 Sondrio 1501
Sesto Fiorentino 547, 1320 Sophocles 36, 509, 1361, 1387
Settecamini 64, 174, 1071, 1083, 1108, 1284 Sorano 420
Settimo San Pietro 1675 Sordi, Marta 695
Sferracavalli 1322f. Sorgenti della Nova 181, 726f., 801
Sherrat, Andrew 1672f. Sorradile 1675
Sherrat, Susan 1672f. Sorrentine Peninsula 402, 1359, 1374ff., 1384,
Sibari 153, 1557, 1559 1395, 1405
Sicani 1653 Sorrento 402, 1361, 1374ff.
Siccomonte 1449 Sorso 1671, 1675
Sicels 17f. Sos Carros 1671
Siculi 1653 Sostratos/Sostratus 151, 639, 994, 1002, 1018,
Sicilian Sea 15 1271
Sicily 6, 13ff., 17, 38, 64, 128, 146, 156, 158, 174, South Scandinavia 1600
454, 464f., 468f., 506, 546f., 550f., 582, Sovana 420f., 539, 549, 552, 555, 659, 1104,
588, 638, 649, 706, 822, 934ff., 995, 1059, 1137, 1153, 1165, 1280f.
1118, 1122f., 1142, 1149, 1205, 1239, 1365, Spain 174, 546, 590, 800, 834, 881, 1021, 1220,
1389, 1560, 1620f., 1641, 1644, 1648, 1650, 1644, 1672, 1685, 1696f., 1703, 1721,
1653ff., 1672, 1679, 1682, 1687, 1696f., 1766
1700, 1702ff. Spannagel, Martin 479
Siena 55, 58, 66, 200, 224, 285, 300, 427, 478, Sparta 159, 200, 327, 909, 1142, 1147
837, 1080f., 1083, 1241, 1248, 1301, 1324, Spello 1091, 1287
1344, 1412, 1701 Sperandio 959, 961, 1287
Sieve, river 1245 Speyer 1704
Sigmaringen 83 Spina 14, 143, 145, 154, 156, 159, 305, 401f.,
Silesia 1607, 1610, 1631 418, 553, 635, 639, 666, 943, 954f., 973f.,
Silius Italicus 41, 127, 457, 510 987, 995, 1010, 1024, 1026, 1033, 1035,
Silla, see Sulla, L. Cornelius 1057f., 1102, 1110, 1130f., 1141, 1144–1148,
Silqetenas, Araz 1541 1152f., 1155, 1217, 1437, 1446–1450, 1508,
Simon, Erika 86f. 1517, 1576, 1629, 1679, 1688, 1691
Siniscola 1676 –– Cavallara 1448
Sinni, river 1552, 1554 –– Tombs
Siris 1557, 1559, 1620 –– – Valle Pega
Sirolo, see Numana –– – 136A: 1145
Sisani, Simone 1489, 1494 –– – 147A: 1145
Sittig, Ernst 100f. –– – 1049B: 1145
Skopadean/Skopas 1067 –– – Valle Trebba
Skutsch, Franz 97 –– – 35: 1145

Index 1815
–– – 104: 1145 Suelli 1675

–– – 128: 329 Suessula 1404, 1412, 1414, 1419, 14121, 1423,
–– – 405: 1145 1553
–– – 464: 1146 Sulcis/Sulky 607, 811, 822, 1541, 1671–1675
–– – 564: 1145f. Sulla, L. Cornelius 558f., 675, 679, 692, 712,
–– – 733: 1146 1198–1200, 1350
–– – 743: 1146 Sulm, river 1592f.
–– – 991: 1146 Surripa 1282
–– – 1007: 1145 Śuri 288f., 293, 296, 298, 300, 302, 304, 306,
–– – 1166: 1145 308, 361, 1053, 1266, 1283
Spinelli, collection 1421 Sutri/Sutrium 549, 552, 554, 556, 667f., 1210,
Spinete, river 541, 1447 1259, 1274
Spitu, family 1112 Süttő 1593
Split 1147 Syme, Ronald 704
Spoleto 413f., 539, 845, 925, 975 Syracuse 173, 399, 454, 465f., 469, 537, 550ff.,
Spolverino 398 666, 705f., 936, 943, 953, 1004, 1023,
Spurianas 1541 1133, 1136, 1141ff., 1152, 1147, 1266, 1273,
Spurinas, Arnth 707f. 1308, 1646ff., 1654–1658, 1661f., 1679,
Spurinas, Vel 708 1681f., 1704, 1707
Spurinna, family 704, 708 Syria/Syrians 25, 208, 320f., 342ff., 546, 584,
Spurinna, Aulus 131, 707f., 1153, 1253 601f., 604f., 607f., 821, 834, 836, 840,
Spurinna, Velthur 705, 1142, 1273, 852, 855, 888, 893, 1205, 1260, 1443,
1655 1538, 1669, 1690
Spurinna, Vestricius 707 Sweden 1574, 1622
Stabiae 402, 1374f. Szilágyi, János-Györgi 1699
Stackelberg, Otto Magnus von 83
Štajerska 1598 Tabanelli, Mario 524
Štajersko 1593 Tabbat el-Hamman 584
Statlane, family 1273 Tablets Iguvine 678
Statius, P. Papinius 41, 509, 966 Tabula Capuana 267, 624, 1408f., 1414
Statonia 552, 556, 675, 692, 1282 Tabula Cortonensis 190, 687f., 1105, 1215, 1218,
Stauropolis 1086 1329, 1351
Stefani, Enrico 1255 Tacitus, Cornelius 15, 41, 364, 398
Stična 1589f., 1594 Tages 43f., 47f., 279f., 288ff., 358, 360, 714,
Stillfried-Hostomice 749, 815f. 759, 761, 1123
Strabo 14f., 38, 40, 70, 144, 154, 393, 395, 397, Talamonaccio 175, 544, 1052,
401f., 456, 512, 1016, 1102, 1142f., 1215, Talamone 391, 393, 397, 552, 556, 1017, 1063,
1361, 1374, 1395, 1398, 1411, 1419, 1421, 1165, 1175, 1181f., 1199f., 1210, 1225, 1231,
1488f., 1600, 1648, 1653f., 1723 1252, 1275, 1278
Strait Talnithe 473, 479ff.
–– Bonifacio 590 Tamariceto 1274, 1276
–– Messina 15, 585, 1653 Tamaris 1713f.
–– Otranto 1144 Tammaro, river 1557
Strettweg 1575, 1599 Tamsnie, family 1267
Striano 1364, 1366 Tanaquil 125, 360, 363, 879
Stuttgart 1272, 1620 Taranto 645, 649ff., 653, 656, 660f., 1063,
Styria 1591ff., 1599 1066f., 1088, 1093f., 1122, 1143, 1153, 1161,
Su Monte 1675 1557, 1559f.
Su Romanzesu 1671 Tarchon 38, 43, 288f., 362, 545, 696, 698, 714,

1816 Index
759, 761, 1120, 1133, 1153, 1208, 1267, –– Tombs

1269, 1438 –– – Anina 1104, 1169
Tarchunies Rumach, Cneve 1546 –– – Arcatelle M 3: 1593, 1595
Tarchunus, Avle 289, 480 –– – Auguri (Augurs) 224, 226f., 943, 948,
Tarentum, see Taranto 1744ff.
Taro, river 1445f. –– – Baccanti (Bacchants) 85, 1755
Tarquinia 19, 20f., 58, 63, 65f., 79, 85, 89, 111, –– – Bartoccini 992
145ff., 149f., 152, 181–184, 187, 189, 196, –– – Biclinio (Biclinium) 1069
202, 213, 216, 218, 221–226, 228, 230, –– – Bighe (Chariots or Bigae) 230, 956, 959,
234, 242, 245, 260, 282, 286, 288f., 298, 993, 1007
300, 302, 319f., 328f., 358, 361, 372, 375, –– – Bocchoris 1269
377, 381, 391, 396f., 419, 463f., 466ff., 477, –– – Bruschi 134, 1168
488, 490–495, 507f., 510–514, 516f., 529, –– – Caccia e Pesca (Hunting and Fishing) 943,
544, 546–549, 552, 554f., 556ff., 561, 563f., 947, 958, 992, 1746–1749
566f., 572–577, 598ff., 603, 625ff., 634, –– – Cacciatore (Hunter) 495, 1753f.
637, 650, 653, 658, 666, 668, 671, 690ff., –– – Cardarelli 225f.
694ff., 698, 706f., 712ff., 729f., 731, 733, –– – Cardinale (Cardinal) 707, 1169, 1205
759f., 763f., 765ff., 774, 780ff., 799, 803, –– – Caronti (Charuns) 1009, 1169
813, 834, 837, 841, 851f., 859, 861, 870, –– – Convegno (Meeting) 134, 136, 634, 1168,
873, 901, 911, 916, 922, 932, 943, 947, 1757ff.
955, 958f., 972, 985ff., 988, 990, 992f., –– – Demoni Azzurri (Blue Demons) 88, 90, 330,
995f., 1005, 1009, 1014, 1016, 1018ff., 958, 1049, 1069ff., 1125
1024, 1049, 1051f., 1054, 1057, 1065f., –– – Doganaccia 230, 1268, 1270
1068, 1071ff., 1087f., 1091, 1095, 1101f., –– – Festoni (Festoons or Garlands) 654, 1153,
1105, 1107, 1111f., 1120, 1131, 1138, 1142, 1169
1148f., 1152f., 1162f., 1166–1169, 1175, –– – Giglioli 175, 467, 1166, 1756
1178, 1191, 1194, 1204, 1209, 1215, 1218ff., –– – Giocolieri (Jugglers) 514, 996
1245f., 1300, 1304, 1308, 1324, 1384, 1445, –– – Giustiniani, Francesca 1069
1463, 1465, 1503, 1520, 1570, 1593ff., 1644, –– – Guerriero (Warrior) orientalizing 246, 602,
1648f., 1655, 1662f., 1674, 1684, 1686, 774, 852, 857
1696, 1699, 1743, 1752f. –– – Guerriero (Warrior) classic 989, 1069
–– Ara della Regina 288, 696, 713f., 1051f., 1120, –– – Iscrizioni (Inscriptions) 80, 83–90, 215, 225,
1133, 1153, 1208, 1268, 1272f. 286, 618, 987f.
–– Arcatelle 573f., 765ff., 813, 1267f. –– – Leonesse (Lionesses) 87, 508, 993, 1272,
–– Calvario 181, 729, 731, 1125, 1268 1749ff.
–– Castellina 1054 –– – Letto Funebre (Funeral Bed) 229, 241
–– Civita 58, 122, 282, 290, 573, 858, –– – Luzi 1270
1267 –– – Mercareccia 656
–– Cretoncini 573, 857, 1267 –– – Morto (Dead Man) 85
–– Le Rose 491f., 760, 765, 780, 1268 –– – Nave (Ship) 330, 379f., 385, 958, 1262
–– Monterozzi 79, 230, 573, 625, 986, 1148, –– – Orco I (Orcus I or 1) 305, 708, 1103, 1070,
1203ff., 1267, 1269f. 1125, 1271
–– Pian della Regina 573, 1054, 1267, 1269 –– – Orco II (Orcus II or 2) 172, 330f., 493, 1070,
–– Pian di Civita 507, 573, 625, 779, 788, 895, 1072, 1203f.
1054, 1267, 1269 –– – Pantere (Panthers) 842
–– Poggio dell’Impiccato 507, 786, 1267f. –– – Pigmei (Pygmies) 134, 958
–– Scataglini 1105 –– – Poggio del Forno 230, 1270
–– Secondi Archi 707 –– – Pulcella (Maiden) 1069
–– Selciatello Sopra 334, 780f., 1267f. –– – Querciola I 63, 1069

Index 1817
–– – Querciola II 63, 1169 Terramare 22f., 570, 572

–– – Scrofa Nera (Black Sow) 1069 Terravecchia
–– – Scudi (Shields) 63, 134, 169, 658, 837, 1057, –– di Cuti 1654, 1662
1071, 1103, 1125 –– di Grammichele 1654, 1663
–– – Triclinio (Triclinium) 63, 242, 513, 957, 959, Terrenato, Nicola 680
1104, 1755 Teržan, Biba 1594
–– – Tumulo della Regina 603 Tessennano 1120, 1122, 1177
–– – Tifone (Typhon) 63, 134, 1168f., 1282, Tetnie, family 1065, 1281
1760 Tetnie, Arnth 1111
–– – Vasi Dipinti (Painted Vases) 85 Teutamides 14
–– – Vecchio (Old Man) 85, 988 Thanchvil 708, 1148
–– – 5636: 1169 Thanr 297, 300, 302, 304
–– Villa Bruschi-Falgari 319, 574, 764, 1267f. Tharros 1674f.
Tarquinia, family 124f., 952, 1540ff. Thebes 966, 978, 1644
Tarquinius Priscus, L. 124–127, 221, 223, 226, Thefarie Velianas 75, 124, 129, 151, 188, 267,
230, 631, 837, 879, 1269, 1540f., 1544 294, 618, 634, 965, 967, 986, 1003, 1021,
Tarquinius Superbus, L. 46, 124f., 127, 129, 550, 1266, 1700
1072, 1257, 1540f. Theodoret of Cyrrhus 509
Tarquinius the Elder, see Tarquinius Priscus. L. Theodoros of Samos 834
Tarquitius Priscus, M. 45, 312, 358, 712–715 Theophilus 1647
Tarragona 1152 Theophrastus 506, 1647
Tartessos/Tartessus 548, 1629, 1644, 1733 Theopompus of Chios 38, 42, 287, 1112
Tarthish, see Tartessos Thesan 293, 964f., 1004, 1266
Tatianus 509 Theseus 237–240, 844, 861, 863, 964, 1070
Tatius, Titus 541 Thessalia 619
Taucheira 1697, 1702 Thessaliotis 12
Taurus Mountains 601 Thezi/Thezle 463f., 470, 1023
Tavignani 1643 Thiessen polygons 572
Teace 1148 Thrace 649
Teano 1417ff. Thuburbo Maius 1200
–– Fondo Ruozzo 1418 Thucydides of Athens 15, 24, 38, 48, 705f., 1142
–– Loreto 1418 Thuflthas 302f.
Tecco Hvala, Sneža 1589 Thuillier, Jean-Paul 26
Tece Sanś 1166, 1211 Thürmer, Joseph 83
Tel Jatt 595f. Thurii 1082, 1142
Telamon, see Talamone Thuringia 1615, 1618, 1624
Telegonus 12 Tiati 1555, 1557f
Telemachus 286 Tiber, river 16, 123, 229, 293, 394, 420, 539,
Telephus 16, 25, 1122 543, 577, 598, 667, 685, 706, 923, 925f.,
Telikles, Larth 153, 873 952, 996, 1004, 1103, 1129, 1147, 1239,
Tell Sukas 584, 1690 1241f., 1244ff., 1248, 1251ff., 1257, 1274,
Tell Tayinat 584 1282, 1286f., 1299, 1343, 1346, 1479,
Temesa 1560 1533f., 1540, 1543ff.
Temo, river 1675 Tiberius, emperor 41, 366, 707, 712f.
Temperino 432 Tibiae 506
Tenna, river 1482 Ticinus, river 1446
Termoli 1557f. Tiglath-Pileser III 600
Terni 592, 925, 1724 Timoleon 466, 470, 1147, 1389
Terra di Lavoro 1399, 1415, 1417f. Tina/Tinia 292f., 296, 300, 302ff., 306, 309,

1818 Index
359, 952, 959, 966, 1005, 1050, 1062, 1210, Trucco, Flavia 319, 574, 764
1257, 1283, 1449 Tuba 505, 509f.
Tintinnabula/tintinnabulum 496f., 513, 516, Tuchulcha 305, 333, 1009
876, 890, 1463 Tuder, see Todi
Tipasa 1702 Tullius, Servius 41, 124f., 129, 548, 631, 1022,
Tiphile 1109 1072, 1206, 1348, 1540
Tiples, Vel 1133 Tunisia 306, 607, 693, 1210, 1695, 1704f.
Tiresias 331, 1070 Tuoro 304f.
Tiu 302, 306 Tuppedili 1675
Tizzanu 1646 Turan 256, 293, 296, 300, 304, 1005f., 1008,
Tlenasie 302 1018, 1024, 1271, 1387, 1449
Tluschva 293, 296, 302 Turfa MacIntosh, Jean 532, 1132
Tocra 1697 Turms 89, 302f., 466, 469, 473, 479ff., 482,
Todi 173f., 552, 556, 1062, 1088, 1149, 1287 1005, 1008, 1063, 1135
–– Tomba Peschiera 1: 1094 Tursha/Turusha 24, 27, 372
Tolfa 181, 425, 427, 438ff., 539, 762, 870, 972, Tuscan 19f., 40, 57, 70f., 110, 112ff., 225, 231,
1016, 1149, 1241, 1244, 1263f., 1273, 1345 364, 694, 703, 951f., 965, 1242, 1266,
–– Pian Conserva 1263 1386, 1656
–– Pian dei Santi 1263, 1400 –– archipelago 399, 590, 1239
Tolumnius, Lars 123f., 1008, 1253 –– coast 18
Tolve 1554 Tuscania 63f., 132, 184, 242, 289, 364, 507,
Toms, Judith 770 517, 547, 549, 711, 991, 1091, 1102f., 1153,
Tonnerre 1713 1177f., 1205, 1273f.
Torebus 16 –– Tomb Vipinana 1273
Torelli, Mario 329, 859, 925, 1001, 1080, 1086, Tuscany 24, 37, 53ff., 109f. 112f., 171, 408, 420,
1205, 1271 425ff., 539, 545, 665, 751, 870, 934, 1141f.,
Torp, Alf 97 1241f., 1244f., 1310, 1437, 1457, 1472, 1688
Torralba 1675 Tusci 11, 18, 29, 36f., 312, 358, 1005, 1014, 1535
Torre Cassero 1325 Tusciano, river 1368
Torre Galli 575, 581, 585ff., 763, 1365 Tusculum 1535
Tragliatella 128, 238f., 321, 863 Tvnth 307
Transdanubia 1593 Tyche 301
Trasimene/Trasimeno, lake 300, 304f., 687, Tydeus 966, 1004
1179, 1211, 1228, 1248, 1286f., 1327, 1352 Tyre/Tyrians 581, 583f., 600, 1671f.
Tre Portelle, see Mineo Tyrrhenian Gulf 15
Treja 667, 1257 Tyrrhenian Sea 15, 173, 372, 381, 383, 394,
Trentino-Alto Adige 408, 1565ff. 402, 445, 448, 453, 456, 463, 545, 551,
Trestina 926 578, 666, 798, 817, 820, 860, 943, 954,
Tret 1570 1024, 1141ff., 1147, 1152, 1239, 1248, 1264,
Trevignano Romano 416, 602 1266, 1395, 1560, 1641f., 1641, 1644, 1653,
Tricarico 1554 1656ff., 1661, 1672, 1674, 1711, 1717
Trigger, Bruce 804 Tyrrhenoi/Tyrsenoi 12ff., 15ff., 394, 542, 622,
Trimalchio 225 1387, 1389, 1702
Troja/Trojans 16, 40, 669 Tyrrhenus 15f., 38, 545, 1438, 1654
Trojan War 14, 16f., 27, 361, 479, 946 Tyrrhenians/Tyrsenians 12–17, 19f., 22, 24f., 27,
Trombetti, Alfredo 23 37, 287, 373, 510, 512, 541f., 621f., 1361,
Tronchetti, Carlo 1671, 1674 1396, 1461, 1488, 1650, 1656
Tropea 585 Tyrsenie 14
Trozzelle 1155 Tyrsenikos Kolpos 15, 1361, 1387

Index 1819
Tyrsenus 13, 17, 37 –– Tellina 1501

Valchetta 1255
Uadi Milian, see Wadi Milian Valdicastello 400
Uchs, Vel 481f. Valdichiana, see Chiana, Val di
Ugas, Giovanni 1671, 1674 Valeggio 1501
Ullastret 1726, 1728 Valenzano 1554, 1557f.
Ulysses 12, 38, 212, 287f., 621f., 842, 844, 863, Valerius Maximus Corvus, M. 557
1376 Valerius Poblicola, P. 618
Umbertide 1287 Valesio 1557f.
Umbria/Umbrians 13, 17f., 20 Valle dello Stregaio 435
Unata Zutas, Marce 693, 1705 Vallo di Diano 1361, 1554
Uni 129, 151, 293ff., 297, 300, 302, 306, 550, Van Essen, Carel Claudius 84
632, 952, 965, 1003–1006, 1009, 1018, Vanth 291, 305, 333, 1009, 1071, 1125, 1169
1021, 1051, 1123f., 1266, 1271, 1278, 1408, Varaždin 1593
1410, 1488, 1700 Varro, M. Terentius 40, 43, 46, 55, 123, 135, 290,
Unqi-Patina 584 311, 538, 541, 695, 963, 1014
Urartians/Urartu 76, 605, 836 Vasari, Giorgio 54f., 71
Urgulania 709f. Vaskeresztes 1593
Urnfield culture 372, 749, 813, 815, 1590, 1608, Vaste 1557ff.
1610ff., 1618, 1630 Vatl 468, 1302
Urso 365 Vatlmi 300
Usil 300f., 1005 Vedius, see Veiovis
Ustica 1654, 1660 Vegoia 42, 190, 279, 359, 363, 557, 679, 692,
Utaves, Tite 1176 1191, 1194, 1197, 1206f., 1217
Utica 1649, 1696 Vei, god 293, 296, 298, 302, 307, 1005ff., 1051,
1123, 1206, 1253, 1257, 1265, 1271, 1278,
Vacanae, see Baccano 1283, 1410
Vaccina, river 396 Veii 2, 40, 57, 66, 105, 123f., 127, 130ff., 134f.,
Vače 1574 145, 148, 155, 167, 170, 186, 196, 202, 212f.,
Vada Volaterrana 400 223, 225, 250, 252f., 267, 277f., 286ff.,
Vadena 291f., 300, 328, 361, 373f., 376, 394, 416,
Stadlhof 1569 418ff., 422, 490, 516, 544, 546f., 549,
Vadimo/Vadimone, lake 554, 1226 552f., 561, 563–566, 572, 575f., 578, 593f.,
Val 598ff., 601ff., 619, 627, 631f., 635f., 638,
–– Camonica 238 640, 645, 666f., 685, 695, 729, 736, 747ff.,
–– d’Aspra 435 752f., 767–770, 772ff., 780f., 783–786,
–– d’Elsa 1149, 1349, 1472 789, 815f., 822f., 841f., 851f., 858f.,
–– d’Era 1149, 1152 861–864, 870, 876, 879, 885f., 890, 892,
–– d’Orcia 1344 901, 904, 910, 916, 923, 928, 936, 944,
–– d’Oro 672 963f., 986, 992, 996, 1057, 1059, 1062f.,
–– dell’Asso 1350 1103, 1106, 1118f., 1129, 1141, 1147, 1149,
–– di Bruna 438 1152, 1177, 1208, 1210, 1245, 1251–1259,
–– di Cecina 1016 1283, 1300, 1308, 1339, 1341, 1346, 1348,
–– di Merse 427 1375, 1399, 1503, 1522, 1535, 1537, 1540,
–– di Non 1570 1542, 1569, 1574, 1592, 1610, 1648, 1657
–– di Pecora 438 –– Arco del Pino 422
–– di Sieve 1332 –– Campetti 286f., 1120, 1205, 1209, 1254, 1257
–– Fuino 1152 –– Casale del Fosso 594, 599, 602, 771, 886,
–– Gardena 22 1254ff.

1820 Index
–– Casale Pian Roseto 996 Verona 19, 58, 933, 1501f.

–– Grotta Gramiccia 167, 781, 1254ff. Verrius Flaccus, M. 41f., 45, 312, 695
–– Macchia della Comunità 1254, 1256 Versilia 401, 934
–– Macchiagrande 1210 Vertumnus, see Voltumna
–– Piazza d’Armi 285, 631f., 635f., 1008, 1254f., Verucchio 157, 170, 186, 207, 217f., 401, 416,
1542 485f., 488–494, 496f., 516, 537, 543, 577,
–– Ponte Sodo 422, 853, 894f., 1276 602, 748f., 753f., 761, 783, 786, 799, 816,
–– Portonaccio 73, 202, 252, 266, 292f., 361, 852, 854, 858, 876, 879, 886ff., 893f., 925,
896, 944, 952f., 963, 992, 1008, 1061, 928, 930, 932, 1441, 1444, 1446, 1453ff.,
1208ff., 1254, 1256, 1258, 1540, 1544 1457f., 1460–1472, 1479, 1481, 1484, 1487,
–– Quattro Fontanili 186, 748, 767–774, 784, 1489, 1568f., 1573, 1595, 1617, 1630, 1683
786, 1254ff., 1592, 1610 –– – Cappuccini 1399f., 1459, 1555
–– Riserva del Bagno 1254, 1256 –– – Casalecchio di Verucchio 1457
–– Valle La Fata 1256 –– – Lavatoio 1459, 1461
–– Tombs –– – Le Pegge 1459, 1461, 1464
–– – Anatre (Ducks) 842, 862, 892, 1256 –– – Lippi 876, 886f., 893f., 930, 1459, 1461,
–– – Campana 292, 321, 842, 892, 1256 1463–1468,
–– – Casale del Fosso 594, 599, 602, 771, 886, –– – Moroni 1459, 1461, 1464
1255f. –– – Pian del Monte 1457, 1459f., 1468ff.,
–– – Leoni ruggenti (Roaring Lions) 841f., 861f., 1472f.
892, 1256 –– Tombs
–– – Vaccareccia 1256 –– – Lippi
Veivis, god 298 –– – B/1971: 490f., 894
Veiovis 298, 307 –– – 26/1969: 491
Velchaina, Laris 925, 1539f. –– – 32/2006: 1464f.
Veliinas, Larice 618 –– – 40BIS/2006: 1465
Velianas, Thefarie 75, 124, 129, 151, 188, 267, –– – 47/1972: 1465
294, 634, 965, 967, 986, 550, 618, 1003, –– – 85/1972; 490, 1595
1021, 1266, 1700 –– – 89/1972: 490, 876, 886f., 893, 1464f.
Velleius Paterculus, M. 41, 1397 –– – Tomba del Trono (tomb of the Throne),
Velletri 212f., 576, 923, 1542f. see tomb Lippi 89/1972
Velthina, Aule 1218 Vesta 292, 1306
Veltune, see Voltumnae Vestarcnie, family 707
Velzna 64, 557, 1282 Vestini 468, 1025
Venetians/Venetic/Veneto 154, 401, 538, 540, Vesuvius 569, 1359, 1395f., 1419, 1421
561, 565, 567, 571, 753, 799, 812, 931f., Vetis 307, 1009
1439, 1445f., 1470, 1501, 1505, 1526, Vetralla 196, 1006
1565ff., 1569, 1572, 1574, 1576f., 1589, Vetter, Emil 101
1592, 1596ff., 1703 Vetulonia 127, 134f., 147, 169, 171, 173, 183,
Ventriglia, Alessia 1410 196, 250, 323, 334, 391, 398f., 416, 425,
Venus 959, 1087, 1647 427, 437f., 457, 468, 470, 478, 493, 540,
Venusia 468 544, 547ff., 551f., 556, 576f., 590f., 594,
Vercnas 469 598, 607, 623, 698, 740, 754, 816f., 819,
Vergiate 1505 841, 851, 853ff., 857f., 860, 865, 891,
Vergilius, P. Maro 15, 40, 125, 129, 238, 393, 901, 905, 916, 926, 930, 932f., 987, 989,
457, 506, 509, 1526 1016f., 1135, 1137, 1152, 1163, 1165, 1244,
Vergina 647, 1086 1299–1310, 1313f., 1318, 1320, 1349,
Vermiglioli, Giovanni Battista 63, 96 1369f., 1463, 1465, 1503f., 1537, 1558f.,
Vernant, Jean-Pierre 79 1569, 1571ff., 1612, 1615, 1683f., 1696

Index 1821
–– Casa di Medea 1163 813, 815ff., 819, 821ff., 831, 836, 851ff.,
–– Circolo delle Pellicce 1596 902, 928, 931f., 1132, 1303, 1308f., 1312,
–– Circolo delle Sfingi 1596 1323, 1328, 1330f., 1343, 1359, 1361f.,
–– Costa Murata 1163 1364, 1399, 1401, 1437, 1439, 1441, 1445,
–– Mura dell’Arce 173 1453f., 1458f., 1461ff., 1467ff., 1472, 1479,
–– Pian d’Alma 1135 1481f., 1485, 1487ff., 1503ff., 1551, 1565ff.,
–– Poggiarello Renzetti 1163 1569f., 1574, 1577, 1594f., 1610f., 1615,
–– Poggio alla Guardia 590f., 1303 1669, 1671f., 1716, 1724
–– Tomba del Duce 493, 854, 1313 Vindelici 18
–– Tomba del Littore (of the Lictor) 854, 858, 891, Vipinas, Avle 1206, 1223
1306 Virgil/Vergil, see Vergilius, P. Maro
–– Tomba Pietrera 623, 841, 1304f., 1314 Visentium, see Bisenzio
Vézelay 1623 Visnai, Ramtha 134, 1111
Via Visso 1493
–– Amerina 677, 1259 Vitali, Daniele 1525
–– Appia Antica 412 Viterbo 54, 66, 298, 361, 419, 837, 1124, 1149,
–– Aurelia 397, 672ff., 676, 1219f., 1255, 1267, 1208, 1245, 1251
1282 Vitruvius, M. Pollius 40, 55, 675, 723, 726, 734f.,
–– Cassia 674, 676, 1210, 1285, 1544 952, 965
–– Clodia 674, 676, 1274 Vix 1609, 1622, 1624, 1626
–– Flaminia 677, 1259 Vladař 1629
–– Latina 1396 Volaterran, territory 468, 694f., 703, 1179, 1181,
–– Pontina 1536 1224
–– Prenestina 1535 Volcatius 713
–– Tiberina 1255 Volsci 640, 1102, 1533
Viareggio 400 Volsinii (Veteres), see Orvieto
Vibe 123 Volsinii Novi, see Bolsena
Vibenna, Aulus 129, 1008 Volterra 58, 76, 83, 133f., 154, 158, 184, 196,
Vibenna, brothers 362, 990, 1224 250, 305, 334, 364, 379, 391, 398, 400,
Vibenna, Caele/Caelius 40f., 129 427, 463f., 466f., 469f., 477f., 511, 514,
Vibii Pansae, family 1220 540, 544, 547, 549, 552, 554–559, 575f.,
Vicarello 1124 601, 627, 638, 661, 676, 679ff., 711, 841,
Vico, lake 1241, 1252f. 854, 905, 959f., 1010, 1016, 1023, 1049f.,
Vico Equense 402, 1374f., 1388 1055, 1066, 1081, 1083, 1090–1093, 1103,
Victorinus, dentist 530 1105, 1112, 1149, 1152f., 1161, 1165, 1173,
Vidal-Naquet, Pierre 79 1180f., 1184f., 1196, 1199, 1200, 1207, 1210,
Vietri sul Mare 1374 1215f., 1221, 1248, 1299, 1301f., 1308,
Villa del Barone 1309 1310ff., 1314, 1350, 1462, 1505, 1523, 1642,
Villa Marchi, see Fiesole 1644, 1741
Villamarzana 567 –– Acropolis 627, 695, 1010, 1161, 1210
Villanova di Castenaso 1437f. –– Porta dell’Arco 1055
Villanovaforru 1671 Voltumna 40, 135, 221, 231, 277, 297, 641,
Villanovafranca 1675 698ff., 702, 1133, 1209, 1283
Villanovan 20, 23–27, 122, 145, 166–170, 181, Volturno, river 1401
207f., 218, 234, 281, 319, 427, 438, 486, Volturnum 1408, 1416
494, 500, 513, 537ff., 541, 543, 545, 563, Volumnius Violens, P. 704f.
569, 573ff., 577, 582, 588f., 598, 607, 617, Volumnius Flamma Violens, L. 689
723f., 726–730, 733–736, 739f., 742–745, Vulca 127, 963
747, 749, 751f., 759ff., 764f., 800, 803f., Vulci 62f., 76, 79ff., 129, 133f., 148, 150–157,

1822 Index
172f., 196, 222, 230, 267, 292, 296ff., Wikander, Örjan 912
300, 302, 304, 311, 321, 333f., 361, 363, Williams, Dyfri 1407
378f., 381, 391, 396f., 408, 410, 413f., Winckelmann, Johann Joachim 60f., 65, 70ff.
422, 463, 470, 477, 488, 493, 512, 515, Wörgl 1568f.
544, 546–549, 552, 554ff., 561, 564, 566, Workshop
568, 572, 576, 597, 605, 637, 650, 658, –– Urna Calabresi 863
668–673, 692, 695, 698, 733, 745, 749, Woudhuizen, Frederik 23
763, 786, 788, 802, 817, 820, 853, 855, Wreck
859ff., 864, 880, 894f., 901, 915f., 925, –– Bon Porté 1: 371, 383f., 1716
928f., 943, 949ff., 954f., 973f., 976–981, –– Campese 383, 507, 909, 1659
983, 987, 989, 995f., 1006, 1014, 1016, –– Cap d’Antibes, see La Love
1018, 1020f., 1023, 1033, 1050ff., 1054, –– Capo Enfola 381
1057, 1063, 1065f., 1071ff., 1080, 1083f., –– Capo Vite 381
1087f., 1091–1095, 1102, 1107, 1109, 1111, –– Dattier 383, 1716
1113, 1123, 1125, 1138, 1143, 1148f., 1152f., –– Ecueil de Miet 382
1162, 1165f., 1176, 1191, 1194, 1205, 1224, –– El Sec 1729
1245, 1247, 1251f., 1257, 1274–1283, 1286, –– Giglio 149, 155, 157, 371, 383f., 507, 1020,
1306, 1322, 1342, 1346, 1348f., 1384, 1405, 1656, 1659, 1684, 1714
1416, 1420, 1546, 1552, 1555, 1559, 1560, –– Grand Ribaud F: 156, 371, 382–385, 1020,
1594, 1623, 1628, 1657ff., 1674, 1696, 1716
1699, 1701, 1704, 1713f., 1718, 1728 –– Isola dello Sparviero 381
–– – Banditella 788, 875, 879, 1274 –– Jules-Verne 7: 384f.
–– – Fontanile di Legnisina 302, 1051, 1120, 1205, –– Jules-Verne 9: 384f
1210, 1276, 1278 –– La Love 371, 382, 1699
–– – Mandrione di Cavalupo 1274ff. –– Pabuç Burnu 384
–– – Marrucatello 1275f. –– Pointe Lequin 1A: 382
–– – Porta nord (Northern Gate) 1176, 1276 –– Pointe Lequin 1B: 1716
–– – Osteria 923, 1274–1277, 1535ff. –– Pozzino 1216
–– – Polledrara 488, 493, 597, 1261, 1275f., 1286 –– Rochelongue 155, 1713
–– – Ponte Sodo 422, 853, 894f., 1276 –– Secche della Meloria 381
–– – Tempio Grande 1050, 1276, 1278
–– Tombs Xàbia 1728
–– – Bronzetti Sardi 820 Xanthus of Lydia 16, 39
–– – Carro (Bronze Chariot) 859, 875, 1277, 1599 Xenophon 159
–– – Cuccumella 230, 1006, 1274, 1277 Xerxes 14
–– – Cuccumelletta 1277 Xoana 1621
–– – François 76, 129, 361, 488, 493, 554, 656,
658f., 668, 990, 1057, 1071f., 1093, 1125, Zagreb 99, 306, 495, 633, 693, 1705
1223, 1281, 1546 Zazoff, Peter 1094
–– – Guerriero (Warrior) 493, 602, 989, 1069 Zeus 16, 124, 173, 292f., 296, 304, 359, 479,
–– – Iside (Isis) 292 842, 952, 966, 1004f., 1461, 1679, 1681ff.,
–– – Polledrara 493, 1275, 1286 1689
–– – Soffitti Intagliati (Carved Ceilings) 1277 Zifferero, Andrea 797, 905
–– – Tetnie 1065 Zolyom 1569
Zonara 1193
Wadi Milian 693, 1199 Zucca, Raimondo 1671, 1674
Weege, Fritz 84 Zuffa, Mario 1470, 1702
Weiskirchen 1624 Zurich-Alpenquai 1569
Weltenburg-Corcelettes 813

Index 1823
Figures
Part 1
4 Della Fina
Fig. 4.1 Thomas Dempster, De Etruria regali, Florentiae 1723 (photo Della Fina)
Fig. 4.2 Anton Francesco Gori, Museum Etruscum, Florentiae 1737 (photo Della Fina)
Fig. 4.3 Coat of arms of the Accademia Etrusca in Cortona (photo Della Fina)
Fig. 4.4 Portrait of Luigi Lanzi (1732–1810). Oil painting, circa 1800 (photo Della Fina)
Fig. 4.5 View of the Campanari Garden, Tuscania (after Dennis 1848)
6 Lubtchansky
Fig. 6.1 Tarquinia, Tomb of Inscriptions (after Torelli 1997, 134, fig. 107)
Fig. 6.2 Calyx-krater from Vulci (after Monuments Inédits 1834, pl. 9)
7 Benelli
Fig. 7.1 Portraits of famous linguists
10 D’Ercole
Fig. 10.1 The chariot of Bisenzio. Rome, Villa Giulia (after Woytowitsch 1978, pl. 24)
Fig. 10.2 Main types of Etruscan trade amphoras (after Py 1985, fig. 2)
11 Egg
Fig. 11.01 Chronological development of Etruscan helmets (drawing M. Ober, RGZM)
14 Colivicchi
Fig. 14.1 Etruscan wine amphora from Miletus (photo A. Naso)
Fig. 14.2 White-on-Red pithos with Ulysses blinding Polyphemus (from Menichetti 2002,
91 fig. 16)
Fig. 14.3 Terracotta frieze of Murlo, banquet scene (from Menichetti 2002, 85 fig. 9)
Fig. 14.4 Terracotta frieze of Acquarossa, banquet scene (from Menichetti 2002, 88 fig. 11)
Fig. 14.5 Sarcophagus of the Spouses, from Caere, detail. Museum of Villa Giulia, Rome
(foto SAR-Laz)
Fig. 14.6 Orvieto, Archaeological Museum, fresco of tomb Golini 1, detail (from Torelli 2000b,
254)
16 Cherici
Fig. 16.1 Bisenzio, necropolis of Olmo Bello, Tomb 22. Bronze situla (detail). Rome,
Villa Giulia (photo SAR-Laz)
Fig. 16.2 Oinochoe of the Painter of the Stretched Horses (detail). London, British Museum
Fig. 16.3 Amphora of the Painter of the Heptachord (detail). Würzburg, Martin
von Wagner Museum
Fig. 16.4 Tragliatella, oinochoe from the necropolis (detail). Rome, Musei Capitolini.
Fig. 16.5 Choreography with the movements of the strophe (signed +), the antistrophe
(signed –),
and the epode (A and B), according to Chiarini
17 Benelli
Fig. 17.1 Distribution map of the Etruscan Inscriptions, 700-630 BC
Fig. 17.2 Distribution map of the Etruscan Inscriptions

1824 Index
Fig. 17.3 Table of Etruscan Abecedaries

Fig. 17.4 Table of recent age scripts
18 Maras
Fig. 18.1 Cover of an ash-urn from Pontecagnano with a pair of molded human figures with
freakish features, probably representing a hierogamy. Eighth century BCE.
Pontecagnano, National Museum (from Gli Etruschi fuori d’Etruria, edited by
G. Camporeale, Verona 2001)
Fig. 18.2 Reconstruction of a terracotta statue representing Aeneas and Anchises from Veii:
in the circle the only fragment found during the excavation at Veii, Campetti
(drawing: courtesy of S. Barberini, Rome)
Fig. 18.3 Bronze statuette representing an infant rising from the ground, found in a sacred
context in Tarquinia. Vatican Museums (after Cristofani 1985: 238, Fig. 126)
Fig. 18.4 Reconstruction of the central acroterium of Temple B at Pyrgi with Herakles and Hera
(after Colonna 2000: 288, Fig. 26)
Fig. 18.5 Inscription Fuflunsul Pachies Velclthi, “To the Bacchic Fufluns at Vulci”, scratched
under the foot of an Attic kylix, from Vulci, Doganella. Last quarter of the fifth
century BCE. Florence, Archaeological Museum (photo by D. Maras)
Fig. 18.6 Marble statue representing a nude goddess, so-called “Venere della Cannicella”,
from Orvieto, necropolis of Cannicella. End of the sixth century BCE (after Andrén
1967, pl. 3a)
Fig. 18.7 Bronze statuette with dedication to aiseras Thuflthicla of uncertain provenance,
probably from Volsinii. Second half of the 4th century BCE. Vatican Museums
(drawing by D. Maras).
Fig. 18.8 Bronze statuette representing Culsans from Cortona, Porta Ghibellina. Cortona,
Museum of the Accademia Etrusca (after Cristofani 1985: 209, Fig. 104).
Fig. 18.9 Bronze statuette of a child holding a bird from Tuoro, near Lake Trasimene.
Vatican Museums (after Cristofani 1985: 241, Fig. 127).
Fig. 18.10 Inscription on the statuette of fig. 18.9, incised along the right leg (drawing by
D. Maras)
Fig. 18.11 Pierced altar from Bolsena, Poggetto, with consecration to Tina (drawing by
D. Maras)
Fig. 18.12 Pyrgi. Plan of the earliest layout of Temple B with its precinct and the building
of “Venti Celle” (after Colonna 2007: 19, Fig. 2)
19 Naso
Fig. 19.1 Villanovan graves from Tarquinia
Fig. 19.2 Tumuli with several chamber tombs in the necropolis of Caere: the oldest tomb
is always oriented north-west (after Prayon 1975, Taf. 82)
Fig. 19.3 Etruscan conception of the heaven
Fig. 19.4 Plans of grave 926 at Pontecagnano (from B. d’Agostino, Tombe principesche ...,
Roma 1977)
Fig. 19.5 Plans of grave 928 at Pontecagnano (from B. d’Agostino, Tombe principesche ...,
Roma 1977)
Fig. 19.6 Tarquinia, Tomba dell’Orco II: Agamemnon and Tiresias in the Netherworld; on the
tree, animulae (after Steingräber 2006, 189)
Fig. 19.7 Cinerary urn from Chiusi with Orestes killing his mother Clytaemnestra (Chiusi, Nat.
Mus. 234) (Steuernagel 1998, 197 n. 75)

Index 1825
22 Pomey
Fig. 22.1. a–d Villanovian clay models of boats (9th – 8th c. BCE) (after Höckmann 2001, figs. 3–6)
Fig. 22.1.e Ship graffito on a vase from Veii (beginning 7th c. BCE) (after Höckmann 2001,
fig. 8)
Fig. 22.1.f Detail of a boat from the procession of ships on an Etrusco-Corinthian oenochoe
(circa 700-675 BCE, Museum of Art & Archaeology, University of Missouri).
(Drawing P. Pomey)
Fig. 22.2 Bronze ram (Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge) (after Basch 1987)
Fig. 22.3.a Aristonothos krater (circa 675-650 BCE, Palazzo dei Conservatori, Rome)
(after Höckmann 2001, fig. 16)
Fig. 22.3.b Ivory pyxide from Chiusi. (Drawing P. Pomey)
Fig. 22.3.c Warship graffito on a vase from Tarquinia (7th c. BCE) (after Höckmann 2001, fig. 9)
Fig. 22.3.d Warship on a vase from Vulci (beginning 6th c. BCE, British Museum, H 230).
(drawing P. Pomey)
Fig. 22.3.e Warship on the “navarch’s” stele from Felsina (Bologna) (end 5th c. BCE).
(after Basch 1987)
Fig. 22.4.a Bireme on the hydria of the Micali painter from Vulci. London, British Museum,
end 6th c. BCE (after Höckmann 2001, fig. 21)
Fig. 22.4.b Ship from the Tomba della Nave, Tarquinia, beginning 5th c. BCE (Drawing M. Rival,
Centre Camille Jullian, CNRS, Aix-en-Provence)
Fig. 22.4.c Ship on an Attic cup. London, British Museum, B 436, late 6th c. BCE. (drawing
M. Rival, Centre Camille Jullian, CNRS, Aix-en-Provence)
Fig. 22.5 Plan of the Grand Ribaud F wreck (drawing M. Rival, Centre Camille Jullian, CNRS,
Aix-en-Provence)
23 Michetti
Fig. 23.1 Main Etruscan harbours and related cities, 600-150 BCE
24 Emiliozzi
Fig. 24.1 The cultural areas of the pre-Roman Italy that adopted the custom of burying
vehicles in the tombs of the elite. The numbers indicate how many finds were known
in each area in 1997. The + sign indicates the numbers that have increased since the
count was made.
Fig. 24.2 Reconstruction of the fast chariot from Populonia, Tumulo dei Carri
(drawing Emiliozzi)
Fig. 24.3 Reconstruction of parade Chariot I from Castel San Mariano (Emiliozzi)
Fig. 24.4 The parade chariot from Rome, Via Appia Antica, as reconstructed in the Museo
Gregoriano Etrusco (drawing Emiliozzi)
Fig. 24.5 Metal roads fanning down from the side rail of the fast chariot from Populonia.
Fig. 24.6 Sixth-century parade chariots. (A) Bronze decoration on the rear side panels and
shock-absorption systems of the chariots from (1) Monteleone, (2) Castro, and (3)
Castel San Mariano (chariot I); (d) the chariot remains from the Barsanti collection.
(B) The chariot from Castro. (C) Reconstruction of the shock-absorption system in
the substructure between the chassis and the axle of the Monteleone chariot
(after Emiliozzi 2011)
Fig. 24.7 The cart from Trevignano Romano, Tomba dei Flabelli. (A) detail of the trident-
shaped finial. (B) Proposed reconstruction (drawing Emiliozzi)

1826 Index
Fig. 24.8 The iron brackets from Casale Marittimo, Casa Nocera necropolis, tomb A: (a) One
bracket; (b) the axle revolving under the grooved beam beneath the chassis
(drawing Emiliozzi)
Fig. 24.9 Acquarossa near Viterbo, a segment of a road in the area F
(from Östenberg 1975, 193)
Fig. 24.10 View of an Etruscan via cava near Sovana, in Fiora River Valley (photo Emiliozzi)
25 Zifferero
Fig. 25.1 Distribution of metallic and non-metallic ore in ancient Etruria (Tuscany and Latium):
the area between the rivers Cecina and Bruna is identified as Etruria mineraria
Fig. 25.2 Plan of the Miniera del Cornacchino at Monte Amiata (Castell’Azzara, Grosseto),
active between 1872 and 1921 for the extraction of mercury. The position of
Prehistoric galleries for the extraction of cinnabar is marked on the right side of the
sketch as linea del giacimento lavorato dagli antichi (after De Castro 1914)
Fig. 25.3 Plan and section of the Etruscan mine Buche al Ferro 2 (Castagneto Carducci,
Livorno), showing a complex system of pits, shafts and cultivation rooms for the
extraction of polymetallic sulfide ore (courtesy A. Casini and G. Cascone; drawing
by G. Cascone)
Fig. 25.4 Cultivation room at the bottom of the Etruscan mine Burian-Fohn (San Vincenzo,
Livorno), with discarded material from the excavation of the skarn masses (courtesy
A. Casini)
Fig. 25.5 Hypothetical reconstruction of Etruscan iron furnaces in the Golfo di Baratti
(Populonia) area, showing the different steps of iron ore smelting, including the
spilling of silicate slag and the final recovery of iron blooms through the demolition
of the plant (courtesy Edizioni Polistampa, Florence)
Fig. 25.6 Distribution of ancient and modern mines for working polymetallic sulfide ore
around Massa Marittima (Grosseto), in the heart of the Colline Metallifere. Most
places are mentioned in the text: the southern portion of plan shows the position of
the Etruscan site at Lago dell’Accesa, close to the mining area of Serrabottini
(courtesy L. Dallai; drawing by A. Bardi)
26 Corretti
Fig. 26.01 Map of the metal resources on the island of Elba
28 Maggiani
Fig. 28.1 Etruscan Bronze Mirror. Madrid, Museo arqueologico Nacional, inv. nr. 9829
(from Blázquez 1960)
Fig. 28.2 Weight. Privat collection (from Bonfante 1993)
Fig. 28.3 Weight. From Caere (from Cristofani 1996)
Fig. 28.4 Table of Etruscan Weights (from Maggiani 2007, 147)
29 Gleba
Fig. 29.1 Mantles from Tomb 89, Verucchio, late 8th century BCE: a) mantle 1; b) mantle 2
(© Cologne University of Applied Sciences)
Fig. 29.2 Verucchio, Garment from Tomb 89, end 8th century BCE (© Cologne University
of Applied Sciences)
Fig. 29.3 Garment from Tomb B/1971, Verucchio, late 8th century BCE (© Cologne University
of Applied Sciences)

Index 1827
Fig. 29.4 Tarquinia Le Rose, Textile traces on a fibula from Tomb XLIV, early 7th century BCE;
the drawings show two sides of the same fibula, preserving different textiles
(after Buranelli 1983, fig. 102)
Fig. 29.5 Scenes from the Throne of Verucchio depicting women spinning and weaving, Tomb
89, Verucchio, late 8th century BCE (after von Eles 2002, fig. 127)
Fig. 29.6 Tintinnabulum from Bologna, Arsenale Militare, Tomba degli Ori, bronze, late 7th
century BCE: a) side A, with scenes of spinning (top) and dressing the distaffs
(bottom); (b) side B, with scenes of weaving (top) and warping (bottom)
(© Bologna Museo Civico Archeologico)
Fig. 29.7 Poggio Civitate di Murlo, Ceramic spindle whorls, 7th–6th century BCE
Fig. 29.8 Poggio Civitate di Murlo, Terracotta loom weights, 7th–6th century BCE
Fig. 29.9 Poggio Civitate di Murlo, Ceramic spools, 7th-6th century BCE (courtesy of Anthony
Tuck)
30 Li Castro
Fig. 30.1 Aerophones (nos. 1–5)
Fig. 30.2 Aerophones (no. 6), plectra (no.7), chordophones (nos. 8–10) and idiophones
(no. 11)
31 Becker
Fig. 31.01. Etruscan gold dental appliance. Already collection R. Aichmeir, Linz
(photo R. Aichmeir)
Part 2
32 Maggiani
Fig. 32.1 Main centres in Etruria, 10th cent.–730/720 BCE (map compiled by O. Cerasuolo)
Fig. 32.2 Main centres in Etruria, 730/720-580 BCE (map compiled by O. Cerasuolo)
Fig. 32.3 Main centres in Etruria, 580-450 BCE (map compiled by O. Cerasuolo)
Fig. 32.4 Main centres in Etruria, 450-250 BCE (map compiled by L. Pulcinelli)
Fig. 32.5 Main centres in Etruria, 250-90 BCE (map compiled by L. Pulcinelli)
33 Pacciarelli
Fig. 33.1 Southern Etruria: abandonment of Final Bronze Age (FBA) villages
(after Pacciarelli 2001)
Fig. 33.2 Southern Etruria, maps of the protourban centres of Veii (A), Caere (B), Tarquinia (C)
e Vulci (D) (after Pacciarelli 2001)
Fig. 33.3 Tarquinia: topography of the EIA centre. Squares: necropoleis; shaded: settlement
areas. (after Iaia and Pacciarelli 2012)
Fig. 33.4 Etruria and Latium Vetus, main EIA centres. A: 100–200 ha; B: 50–100 ha;
C: 20–50 ha; D: 1–15 ha (after Pacciarelli 2001)
Fig. 33.5 Late Bronze and Early Iron Age main chronocultural sequences of Campania, Latium
and Etruria, approximately correlated with Greek-Aegean and Central European
phases (adapted after Pacciarelli 2001)

1828 Index
34 Botto
Fig. 34.1 Map of Cyprus and Ancient Near East
Fig. 34.2 Torre Galli: typology of the Phoenician metallic cups (from Sciacca 2010a)
Fig. 34.3 Main routes from the homeland to the regions targeted by the Phoenician diaspora
in the Mediterranean and Atlantic
Fig. 34.4 Bronze decorated cup from Tomb 7 of the “Primo circolo di pietre interrotte”
from the Poggio alla Guardia necropolis, Vetulonia (from Maggiani 1973)
Fig. 34.5 Bronze decorated phiale from the S(trada) tomb of the Macchiabate necropolis, at
Francavilla Marittima (from Zancani Montuoro 1970–1971)
Fig. 34.6 Bronze cup with handle with globular appendices from tomb 132, Castel di Decima
(from Bedini, Cordano 1975)
Fig. 34.7 Bronze cup with handle with globular appendices from tomb 1032 in the Casale del
Fosso necropolis, Veii (from Drago Troccoli 2009)
Fig. 34.8 Bronze carinated cauldron with pair of double spiral handle attachments, from
Tel Jatt hoard, near Megiddo (from Artzy 2006)
Fig. 34.9 Deep bronze basin with lotus flower handle terminations, from Santa Anastasia,
Sardara (from Matthäus 2001)
Fig. 34.10 Shallow bronze basin with lotus flower handle terminations, from Santa Anastasia,
Sardara (from Matthäus 2001)
Fig. 34.11 Bronze “Phoenician-Cypriot” oinochoe from the “Tripod Tomb”, Cerveteri. Vatican,
Fig. 34.12 Bronze torch-holder, probably from the Monte Abatone necropolis, Cerveteri.
Vatican, Gregorian Etruscan Museum
Fig. 34.13 Bronze ribbed cup with Phoenician inscription from tomb 3 of Kfar Veradim
(Upper Galilee) (from Alexandre 2002)
Fig. 34.14 Ceramic tripod-cup from Othoca (Sardinia). Soprintendenza Archeologia della
Sardegna
Fig. 34.15 Bronze jug with spout and incorporated strainer in the British Museum
(from Moorey 1980)
Fig. 34.16 Detail of “The Garden Party” from the North Palace at Nineveh
35 Cerchiai
Fig. 35.1 Lapis Satricanus (photo SAR-Laz)
Fig. 35.2 Pyrgi tablets (after Die Göttin von Pyrgi, Florence 1981, pl. 19)
Fig. 35.3 Krater of Aristonothos (after Rasenna. Storia e civiltà degli Etruschi, edited by
G. Pugliese Carratelli, Milan 1986, fig. 48)
Fig. 35.4 Tomb of the Statues at Ceri (after StEtr 52, 1984, 20 and 34)
Fig. 35.5 Tabula Capuana (after Rasenna. Storia e civiltà degli Etruschi, edited by
G. Pugliese Carratelli, Milan 1986, fig. 252)
Fig. 35.6 The mudbrick house in Roselle (courtesy SAT)
Fig. 35.7 Tomba Cima near Barbarano (after Naso 1996, fig. 91)
Fig. 35.8 Terracotta frieze from Poggio Buco (photo SAT)
Fig. 35.9 Inscribed kyathos from the necropolis of Tolle (photo SAT)
Fig. 35.10 Terracotta frieze from the Piazza d’Armi at Veii (photo SAR-Laz)
Fig. 35.11 Orvieto: necropolis of Crocifisso del Tufo (photo A. Naso)
Fig. 35.12 Dedication by Sostratos from Gravisca ((photo SAR-Laz)

Index 1829
36 Haumesser
Fig. 36.1 Vergina, tomb of Philip II, taken from the decoration of the facade
(after Andronicos 1984, 101)
Fig. 36.2 Naples, hypogeum of the Cristallini (after Baldassarre 1998, pl. 2)
Fig. 36.3 Ficoroni cista, taken from the decoration engraved on the walls (after
(Bordenache Battaglia and Emilozzi 1990, pl. 302)
Fig. 36.4 Pocolom (after Bianchi Bandinelli 1969, fig. 28)
Fig. 36.5 Bronze head from San Giovanni Lipioni. Paris, Cabinet des médailles et
des antiques (after Coarelli 2011, fig. 169)
Fig. 36.6 Sarcophagus of Scipio Barbatus. Vatican City, Vatican Museums
(after Italia omnium terrarum parens, fig. 232)
38 Torelli
Fig. 38.1 Distribution of the roman rural tribes in Etruria
Fig. 38.2 The Tabula Cortonensis (after Nicosia-Agostiniani 2000, pl. 8)
Fig. 38.3 Inscription mentioning C. Genucius Clepsina in the underground building at Caere
Fig. 38.4 Inscription in the family tomb of the Clavtie at Caere (after StEtr 37, 1969, p. 3 320)
Fig. 38.5 Graffito from Gravisca mentioning T.Gavio(s) C.f. (after Valentini 1993, pl. 47)
Fig. 38.6 Boundary stone with Etruscan inscription from Wadi Milian, Tunisia
(after Heurgon 1969b, fig. 3)
Fig. 38.7 Latin inscription mentioning Tarchon (after Torelli 1975, pl. 19)
Fig. 38.8 Roman relief from Caere, so called Throne of Claudius (after Fuchs 1989, p. 54)
Fig. 38.9 Central area of the Fanum Voltumnae sanctuary in the Roman phase
(after AnnMuseoFaina 16, 2009, p. 462, fig. 15)
Fig. 38.10 Latin inscription mentioning M. Fulvius Flaccus from the Sant’Omobono area
at Rome (after Torelli 1968, fig. 1)
Fig. 38.11 Latin inscription mentioning C.Metellius C.f. Stell. [praet(or)] Etruriae. Cortona,
Museo dell’Accademia Etrusca (after Liou 1969, pl. 6)
Fig. 38.12 Marble urn with the inscription of P. Volumnius A.f. Violens Cafatia natus. Perugia,
Archaeological Museum (photo by M. Torelli)
Fig. 38.13 Latin inscription mentioning Velthur Spurinna. Tarquinia, Archaeological Museum
Fig. 38.14 Latin inscription mentioning Aulus Spurinna. Tarquinia, Archaeological Museum
Fig. 38.15 The Corsini throne. Rome, Galleria Corsini (photo by M. Torelli)
Fig. 38.16 Inscription mentioning M. Tarquitius Priscus and M. Tarquitius Etruscus. Tarquinia,
Archaeological Museum (after Torelli 2005, fig. 2)
Fig. 38.17 Fasti of the college of LX Haruspices: a. fragment 1; b. fragment 2. Tarquinia,
Archaeological Museum (after Torelli 1975, pl. 8–9)
39 Karlsson
Fig. 39.1 San Giovenale. Area D. Tower photograph (from Malcus 1984, pl. II:1)
Fig. 39.2 Sorgenti della Nova. Elliptical Hut Ab. 2 in Sector III (from Negroni Catacchio
and Domanico 2001, fig. 3)
Fig. 39.3 Restored view of a Protovillanovan hut. Note the standing logs placed tightly
together in the rock-cut channel (drawing by J. Blid Kullberg, 2011)
Fig. 39.4 Tarquinia. Plan of the huts in the Calvario excavation area (from Linington 1982,
fig. 1)

1830 Index
Fig. 39.5 Monteriggioni-Campassini, hut C (from Bartoloni 2001, fig. 8).

Fig. 39.6 Bronze hut urn (photo SAR-Laz)
40 Iaia
Fig. 40.1 Ceramics from Early Iron Age southern Etruria, Phase 1: (1), (3) from Tarquinii; (2)
from Veii; (4) jug with metal stripe decoration from Tarquinii (after De Angelis 2001)
Fig. 40.2 Bronze fibulae from Early Iron Age southern Etruria: (1), (3) from Vulci
(Falconi Amorelli 1966); (2) from Tarquinii (Hencken 1968); (4)–(6) from Veii
(Cavallotti Batchavarova 1967)
Fig. 40.3 Swords and related sheaths: (1) Pontecagnano-type sword, from Pontecagnano
(Gastaldi 1998); (2)–(3) Pontecagnano-type sheaths, from Pontecagnano
(Gastaldi 1998) and Tarquinii (Hencken 1968). Bronze helmets: (4) round bell helmet
from Populonia (Iaia 2005); (5) hemispherical helmet from Tarquinii (Iaia 2005)
Fig. 40.4 Armaments: Bronze crested helmets from (1) Tarquinii and (2) unknown provenance,
probably Vulci (after Iaia 2005); (3) bronze shield from Veii, tomb Quattro Fontanili
AA1 (after Franco, Mallet and Wacher 1970)
Fig. 40.5 Bronze vessels from burial contexts in southern Etruria, Early Iron Age phases 1–2:
(1), (3)–(5) from Tarquinii; (2) from Caere; (6) from Vulcii; (7) from Veii (Iaia 2005)
Fig. 40.6 Miscellaneous objects: (1) bronze belt from Veii (Bartoloni and Pandolfini 1972);
(2) iron sword with bronze sheath from Sala Consilina (Kilian 1970); (3) iron
serpentine fibula from Tarquinii (Hencken 1968)
Fig. 40.7 Objects from Verucchio partly made of amber: (1)–(2) fibulae; (3) spindle
(after Forte 1994)
41 Pacciarelli
Fig. 41.1 Sample of villanovan cinerary urns from the cemetery of Le Rose at Tarquinia,
showing a significant stylistic convergence
Fig. 41.2 Tarquinia, cemetery of Arcatelle: part of grave goods from a male tomb of the first
phase of Early Iron Age
Fig. 41.3 Tarquinia, cemetery of Arcatelle: exceptional ritual bronze vessel from a
female tomb of the first phase of Early Iron Age
Fig. 41.4 Veii, Quattro Fontanili necropolis (mainly EIA2): high rank male grave-groups.
A: t. EE10B, aged ca. 40 (category A1); B: t. HH 6–7, two children (category A2)
Fig. 41.5 Veii, Quattro Fontanili necropolis (mainly EIA2): high rank female grave-groups.
A: t. KK 10–11, aged 25 (category B); B: t. JJ 17–18, adult and child (category C);
C: t. EE 7–8B, aged 3–4 (category D)
Fig. 41.6 Veii, Quattro Fontanili necropolis (mainly EIA2): low rank grave-groups (A-B, males;
C-D: females). A: t. Z9, aged 15–19 (category E); B: t. GG14–15, aged 1 (category F);
C: t. JJ8, aged ca. 50 (category H); D: t. KK 13–14, aged 3–4
Fig. 41.7 Veii, Quattro Fontanili necropolis, tomb AA1
Fig. 41.8 Veii, Quattro Fontanili necropolis, tomb Z15A
42 Trocchi
Fig. 42.1 Male tomb group from the grave Selciatello 75 of Tarquinia (after Iaia 1999, fig. 9 A)
Fig. 42.2 Male tomb group from the grave Impiccato 25 of Tarquinia (after Iaia 1999, fig. 8 A)
Fig. 42.3 Plan of the grave AA1 of the Quattro Fontanili necropolis in Veii (drawing SAR-Laz)
Fig. 42.4 Bronze cup with central female figurine from the grave 2 of the Olmo Bello
necropolis in Bisenzio Rome, Villa Giulia Museum (photo SAR-Laz)

Index 1831
44 Iaia
Fig. 44.1 Distribution map of prestige bronze items connecting Etruria with continental
Europe (late 10th to 8th centuries BCE)
Fig. 44.2 Bronze necked amphoras of the type Veio-Seddin-Gevelinghausen. A: Veii (Rome),
tomb AA1 (Franco, Mallet and Wacher 1970); B: Gevelinghausen (Meschede,
Germany) (after Jacob 1995)
Fig. 44.3 Distribution map of the main items of Nuragic manufacture or imitation in Italy,
all of bronze except for the first one: pottery askoid jugs, votive boats, buttons,
miniaturized containers, votive quivers, flask pendants, anthropomorphic figurines
(sources: Falconi Amorelli 1966; Bartoloni 1997; Delpino 2002; Lo Schiavo 2002;
Lo Schiavo 2008)
Fig. 44.4 Small bronze objects (statuette and miniature furniture) of Nuragic manufacture
from Vulcii, Tomba dei Bronzetti Sardi (after Falconi Amorelli 1966)
45 Menichetti
Fig. 45.1 Circular bowl from Praeneste (photo SAR-Laz)
Fig. 45.2 Trumpet-lituus from Tarquinia (photo SAR-Laz)
Fig. 45.3 Relief and detail with King Assurbanipal (after Sciacca 2007, fig. 16)
Fig. 45.4 Gold ribbed bowls from Nimrud (after Sciacca 2007, fig. 13)
Fig. 45.5 Plan of Murlo (courtesy A. Tuck)
Fig. 45.6 Relief with deities from Murlo (photo SAT)
Fig. 45.7 Statue from Casale Marittimo (photo SAT)
Fig. 45.8 Tomb of the Roaring Lions (courtesy TPA, Carabinieri)
Fig. 45.9 Vase from Montescudaio (photo SAT)
Fig. 45.10 Pyxis of Pania (photo SAT)
Fig. 45.11 Drawing of the Monteleone chariot (after Emiliozzi 1997, 186–87)
46 Micozzi
Fig. 46.1 Gold breastplate and disk-fibula from Caere, Regolini-Galassi Tomb. Vatican,
Museo Gregoriano Etrusco (from Cristofani-Martelli 1983)
Fig. 46.2 Gold plaque (breastplate?) from Praeneste, Barberini Tomb. Rome, Villa Giulia
(photo SAR-Laz)
Fig. 46.3 Gold fibula from the Tomba del Littore of Florence, Nat. Archaeol. Mus. (photo SAT)
Fig. 46.4 Fragmentary ivory relief plaques from Comeana, Tumulus of Montefortini. Florence,
Nat. Archaeol. Mus. (photo SAT)
Fig. 46.5 Set of silver-gilt vessels from the Regolini-Galassi Tomb of Caere (Rome, Vatican,
Museo Gregoriano Etrusco) (elaboration from Cristofani-Martelli 1983)
Fig. 46.6 Silver scepter, flabellum and bronze sheets from Veii, Monte Michele, Tomb
5 (Rome, Museo Etrusco di Villa Giulia) (photo SAR-Laz)
Fig. 46.7 Olla from the Tomb of the Roaring Lions at Veii, attribuited to the Narce Painter
(photo SAR-Laz)
Fig. 46.8 Bucchero olpe showing in relief Medea, the Argonauts and Daedalus. From Caere,
Tumulus of San Paolo, Tomb 2 (Rome, Museo Etrusco di Villa Giulia) (photo SAR-Laz)
47 Naso
Fig. 47.1 Plan of Great Tumulus 2 in the Banditaccia cemetery at Caere (drawing A. Naso)
Fig. 47.2.a Line-drawing of the Etruscan inscription TLE 155 = ET, Ta 6.1 aχapri rutile hipukrates
Fig. 47.2.b Line-drawing of the Etruscan inscription TLE 761 = ET, OA 2.2 mi larθaia telicles
leχtumuza

1832 Index
Fig. 47.3.a Line-drawing of the Etruscan inscription ET, Cr 2.34 [mi] pupaias karkanas θina
Fig. 47.3.b Line-drawing of the Etruscan inscription ET, Cr 2.36 mi velelias θina mlaχ mlakas
Fig. 47.4 Etruscan bronze thron from the Barberini tomb at Praeneste (Rome, Museum
of Villa Giulia) (Photo SAR-Laz)
Fig. 47.5 Bronze cult-chariot from the Regolini-Galassi tomb at Caere (after Woytowitsch
1978, no. 123, tab. 121)
48 Trocchi
Fig. 48.1 Plan of the grave Lippi 89/1972 at Verucchio (after Torelli 1997c, fig. 42)
Fig. 48.2 Ceramic lebes from Pitigliano with female and mourning knight figurines on the
edge. Second half of the 7th cent. BCE. Florence, Archaeological Museum
(photo SAT)
Fig. 48.3 Anthropomorphic urn or canopo on throne from the grave 253 of Tolle (Chianciano),
End 7th cent BCE. Chianciano, City Museum (photo SAT)
Fig. 48.4 Back of the wooden throne from Lippi 89/1972 at Verucchio. Verucchio,
City Museum (courtesy P. von Eles)
Fig. 48.5 Golden fibula from Vulci, Ponte Sodo. Munich, Antikensammlungen (after Montelius
1897, pl. 13,7)
49 Nijboer
Fig. 49.1 Acquarossa, the three settlement areas, two metal ore deposits in walking distance
and some burial grounds 1. Acquarossa; 2. Ferento; 3. M. Piombone; 4. Ore deposit
of Solfatara; 5. Ore deposit of Macchia Grande (from Zifferero 1991a, Fig.13)
Fig. 49.2 Find spots of Etruscan amphorae and Etruscan fine tableware, especially bucchero
(compiled by A. Naso)
50 Micozzi
Fig. 50.1 Pyxis in “white-on-red” ware from Crustumerium, Monte del Bufalo, Tomb 111
(after De Puma 2010)
Fig. 50.2 Handle of pyxis/censer from Fabbrecce (after Lo Schiavo, Romualdi 2009).
Fig. 50.3 Chiusi bronze-amphora from Pitino di San Severino, Monte Penna, Tomb 14
(after Piceni, Popolo d’Europa, Rome 1999)
Fig. 50.4 Silver comb fibula from Fabriano, S. Maria in Campo, Tomb 3 (after Piceni,
Fig. 50.5 Ostrich egg from Pitino di San Severino, Monte Penna, Tomb 14 (after Piceni,
Fig. 50.6 Bronze tripod from Novo Mesto (Slovenia) (photo A. Naso)
Fig. 50.7 Bronze bowl from the Tomba del Carrettino (after Camporeale 2001)
Fig. 50.8 Heron plates from Eloro (after Sicilia archeologica)
51 Spivey and Harari

Fig. 51.1 Apollo of Veii (detail), c. 510 BCE. Rome, Villa Giulia Museum (Photo SAR-Laz)
Fig. 51.2 Detail of a late sixth-century BCE marble sarcophagus found at Gümüscay,
in western Turkey. Çannakale Museum (Photo N. Spivey)
Fig. 51.3 Detail of the so-called “Boccanera slabs”—painted terracotta plaques from
the Banditaccia cemetery, Cerveteri. Mid sixth century BCE. London,
British Museum (Photo N. Spivey)
Fig. 51.4 Detail of the “Married Couple Sarcophagus” from Cerveteri, late sixth century BCE.
Rome, Villa Giulia Museum (Photo SAR-Laz)

Index 1833
Fig. 51.5 Nenfro figure of boy astride a hippocamp, from Vulci, c. 520 BCE. Rome,
Villa Giulia Museum (Photo SAR-Laz)
Fig. 51.6 Detail of a black-figure amphora attributed to the Micali Painter, from Vulci,
c. 520 BCE. London, British Museum (Photo N. Spivey)
Fig. 51.7 Reconstruction of the Portonaccio temple at Veii (c. 510 BCE). (After NS 1953)
Fig. 51.8 Tarquinia, Tomb of the Ship, detail of the paintings: a seascape and three men
standing close to a sideboard (drawing from Colonna 2003b, 66, fig. 3)
Fig. 51.9 Marble head of a kouros. Volterra, Lorenzini collection (photo SAT)
Fig. 51.10 Sarcophagus from the Sperandio necropolis. Perugia, Archaeological Museum
(Jannot 1984, fig. 158)
Fig. 51.11 Female funerary statue from Marcianella, Chiusi. Palermo, Archaeological Museum
(photo M. Harari)
Fig. 51.12 Bronze fragments of possibly two cult statues from the Moon Shrine at Acqua Santa
in Chianciano. Chianciano, Archaeological Museum (photo SAT)
Fig. 51.13 The Capitoline Wolf, Rome, Capitoline Museums (photo M. Harari)
Fig. 51.14 Terra-cotta lid of urn, shaped as a semi-recumbent youth from Caere.
Cerveteri, Archaeological Museum (photo SAR-Laz)
Fig. 51.15 Terra-cotta high relief from the Temple A at Pyrgi. Rome, Villa Giulia Museum
(photo SAR-Laz)
52 Bentz
Fig. 52.1 Tomba Grande in the necropolis of Giardini Margherita in Bologna, before 450 BCE.
Bologna, Museo Civico
Fig. 52.2 Etruscan Schnabelkanne from the Rhineland, 500–480 BCE. Bonn, Akademisches
Kunstmuseum, inv. no. C 623 (Photo museum)
Fig. 52.3 Tripod from Vulci, 500–480 BC. Badisches Landesmuseum Karlsruhe, inv. no. F 203
(Photo museum)
Fig. 52.4 Set of gold ornaments from Vulci. New York, Metropolitan Museum, inv.
no. 40.11.7–18 (after Cristofani, Martelli 1983, pp. 158–159)
Fig. 52.5 Carnelian scarab from Perugia depicting the myth of the Seven against Thebes,
500–480 BCE. Antikensammlung Berlin
Fig. 52.6 Ivory plaque depicting a banquet, 530–520 BCE. Archäologische Sammlung
der Universität Göttingen, inv. no. V 31
Fig. 52.7 Bucchero pesante kyathos from Orvieto (?) depicting a frieze of boars and the Potnia
Theron, 550–500 BCE. Bonn, Akademisches Kunstmuseum, inv. no. 1891
Fig. 52.8 Amphora from Vulci depicting the Judgment of Paris, 540 BCE. Munich, Staatliche
Antikensammlungen, Inv. 837
Fig. 52.9 Relief of a cinerary urn from Chiusi, ca. 500 BCE Antikensammlung Berlin, inv. no.
Sk 1222
55 Becker
Fig. 55.1 Farm House at Podere Tartuchino, reconstruction of the Phase II building
(after Perkins and Attolini 1992, fig. 22)
56 Reusser
Fig. 56.1 Kamiros (Rhodes), Macri Langoni necropolis. Tombs with Attic pottery
Fig. 56.2 Bologna, Certosa necropolis, western part. Tombs with Attic pottery
Fig. 56.3 Bologna, Certosa necropolis, eastern part. Tombs with Attic pottery

1834 Index
57 Gilotta
Fig. 57.1 Tarquinia, Ara della Regina temple, phase III. Late Classical – Hellenistic period
(after Bagnasco Gianni 2011, 51 fig. 1)
Fig. 57.2a–b Cerveteri, Sant’Antonio, temple A, assumed plan and column. Hellenistic period
(after Maggiani 2008, 131, fig. 16b; 135, fig. 25)
Fig. 57.3 Marzabotto, Casa degli Ippocampi (IV 1,2), plan. Second half of the fifth century
(after Häuser 2010, 107, fig. 2d)
Fig. 57.4 Terracotta mould for a female head, from Campo della Fiera, Orvieto, excavations
2008. Mid fifth century. Orvieto, Archael. Mus. (after Stopponi 2009, 471, fig. 33)
Fig. 57.5 Terracotta female votive statue, from the Portonaccio sanctuary, Veio. Second half
of the fifth century, Rome, Museo Nazionale Etrusco di Villa Giulia (photo SAR-Laz)
Fig. 57.6 Terracotta fragmentary bearded head, from the Scasato II temple, Falerii. First half
of the fourth century. Rome, Villa Giulia (photo SAR-Laz)
Fig. 57.7 Terracotta fragmentary male statue, from the Scasato I temple, Falerii.
Late fourth-beginning of the third century. Rome, Villa Giulia (photo SAR-Laz).
Fig. 57.8 Tarquinia, Tomb of the Blue Demons: two demons of death in the Netherwold.
End of the fifth-beginning of the fourth century (after Gilotta 2005, p. 47)
Fig. 57.9 Tarquinia, sarcophagus of the Amazons. Mid/third quarter of the fourth century.
Florence, Nat. Archael. Mus. (photo SAT)
58 Ambrosini
Fig. 58.1 Stamnos with decoration in superposed color, from Chiusi. Florence,
Museo Archeologico Nazionale, n. inv. Vagnonville 14 (photo SAT)
Fig. 58.2 Red-figured kylix from Grotti (Siena), Tomb 3. Siena, Museo Archeologico Nazionale,
inv. no. 36602 (photo SAT)
Fig. 58.3 Red-figured bird askos from the Cinci Collection. Florence, Museo Archeologico
Nazionale, inv. no. 4232 (photo SAT)
Fig. 58.4 Red-figured stamnos from the Chigi Zondadari Collection Funnel Group. Siena,
Museo Archeologico Nazionale, without inv. no. (photo SAT)
Fig. 58.5 Red-figured kelebe from Asciano, Poggio Pinci, tomb 3. Asciano, Museo
Archeologico, inv. no. 189 (after Martelli 1987, 234 fig. 179.4)
Fig. 58.6 Situla stamnoid in silvered pottery, probably from Chiusi. Chiusi, Museo Nazionale
Etrusco, inv. no. 62523 (photo SAT)
Fig. 58.7 Bronze thymiaterion of the portable type. Florence, Museo Archeologico Nazionale,
inv. no. 70848 (photo SAT)
Fig. 58.8 Lasa bronze mirror type B:1 from Volterra. Volterra, Museo Etrusco Guarnacci,
inv. no. MG 4330 (photo SAT)
Fig. 58.9 Gold leaf crown from Volterra, Portone necropolis. Volterra, Museo Etrusco
Guarnacci, inv. no. 4 (Photo SAT)
Fig. 58.10 Gold earrings with head of an African from Riparbella, Volterra. Volterra,
Museo Etrusco Guarnacci, inv. no. 91 (photo SAT)
61 Becker
Fig. 61.1 Tombstone of Vel Kaikna. End of the fifth century (photo credit: Museo Civico
Archeologico. Used with permission, Museo Civico Archeologico di Bologna)
Fig. 61.2 Rome, Area sacra di Sant’Omobono: the circular donarium of M. Fulvius Flaccus.
Indentations along the top are attachment points for bronze statues.
(photo credit: H. Becker. Used with permission, Sovraintendenza ai Beni Culturali
di Roma Capitale)

Index 1835
62 Bruni
Fig. 62.1 Distribution of the Attic red-figured Pottery in Etruria, late 5th cent. BCE
Fig. 62.2 Distribution of Attic red figured pottery in Etruria, 4th cent. BCE
Fig. 62.3 Distribution of Red-figured pottery from southern Italic fabrics in central
and northern Italy
63 Gilotta
Fig. 63.1 Castelsecco (Arezzo), sanctuary, aerial view. Hellenistic period
(after Maetzke 1982–84, fig. 1)
Fig. 63.2a–b Terracottas from the Catona Sanctuary (Arezzo). Hellenistic period. Arezzo,
Museo Archeologico Nazionale (photo SAT)
Fig. 63.3a–b Terracottas from the Catona Sanctuary (Arezzo). Hellenistic period. Arezzo,
Museo Archeologico Nazionale (photo SAT)
Fig. 63.4 Cerveteri, Tomba dei Rilievi. Late fourth century (photo DAI Rome)
Fig. 63.5 Tarquinia, Tomba del Convegno: procession of togati. First half of the third century
(photo †G. Bellucci)
64 de Angelis
Fig. 64.1 Terracotta sarcophagus from Tuscania, detail. Tarquinia, Museo Archeologico.
Fig. 64.2 Bronze statue of Avle Meteli (“Arringatore”), detail. Florence, Museo Archeologico
Nazionale
Fig. 64.3 Alabaster cinerary urn from Volterra. Volterra, Museo Guanacci.
Figs. 64.4a–b Pediment of the temple of Talamone, picture and diagram. Orbetello, Museo Civico
Fig. 64.5 Alabaster cinerary urn from Chiusi with scene of the Seven against Thebes.
Chiusi, Museo Archeologico Nazionale
Fig. 64.6 Terracotta cinerary urn from Chiusi. Chiusi, Museo Archeologico Nazionale.
Fig. 64.7 Alabaster urn from Volterra. Volterra, Museo Guarnacci
68 de Angelis
Fig. 68.1 Sarcophagus with Celtomachy, from Chiusi, last quarter of the third century.
Florence, Museo Archeologico Nazionale (photo SAT 28075)
Fig. 68.2 Cinerary urn with horseman and Celts, last quarter of the third century. Chiusi,
Tomba della Pellegrina (photo SAT 63632-2)
69 Perkins
Fig. 69.01 Altitude and mountains in Etruria
Fig. 69.02 Drainage basins in Etruria
Fig. 69.03 Major sites in Etruria
70 Zifferero
Fig. 70.1 Simplified distribution of archaeological evidence (quoted in the text), on the
plateau and in the suburban area of Veii (drawing by the author).
Fig. 70.2 Veii: Experimental reconstruction of the great Tuscanic temple at Portonaccio
(1993), with the nearby altar of Menerva covered by a roof (photo by the author)
plateau and in the suburban area of Caere (drawing by the author)
Fig. 70.4 Caere: Distribution and density of tumuli between the Banditaccia and the Tegola
Dipinta necropolises, according to the excavated evidence, and compiled by the
interpretation of aerial photography (after Bradford 1957).

1836 Index
Fig. 70.5 Caere: Oblique aerial view of the tumuli located in the area of the Tegola Dipinta
necropolis (photo G. Trogu)
Fig. 70.6 Caere: View of the a dado tombs along the Via dei Monti Ceriti, at the Banditaccia
necropolis (photo A. Naso)
plateau and in the suburban area of Tarquinii (drawing by the author)
Fig. 70.8 Tarquinii: Distribution and density of tumuli on the Monterozzi necropolis,
according to the excavated evidence, and compiled by the interpretation of aerial
photography (after Bradford 1957)
Fig. 70.9 Tarquinii: Tomb of the Lionesses: performance of the dancers and musicians beside
a krater, with banqueters on the lateral walls (about 530) (after H. Leisinger,
Malerei der Etrusker, Stuttgart 1954)
plateau and in the suburban area of Vulci (drawing by the author).
Fig. 70.11 Marsiliana d’Albegna: The area of the recently identified settlement (square-
hatching), surrounded by necropolises (cross-hatching) (drawing by the author)
Fig. 70.12 Sovana: The carved facade of the Tomb of the Siren (second century; photo by the
author)
Fig. 70.13 Sovana: Proposed reconstruction of the facade of the Tomb of the Winged Demons
(late third–early second century; drawing by A. Maggiani, courtesy La Nuova
Immagine Editrice)
Fig. 70.14 Volsinii (Orvieto): Aerial view of the Crocifisso del Tufo necropolis (photo by
P. Nannini)
Fig. 70.15 Volsinii (Orvieto): Three-dimensional reconstruction of the Crocifisso del Tufo
necropolis (drawing by Soprintendenza Archeologia dell’Umbria, courtesy
Quattroemme)
71 Nielsen and Warden

Fig. 71.1 Vetulonia: Stone relief figure from the Pietrera Tomb (photo SAT)
Fig. 71.2 View of the Golfo di Baratti from Populonia (photo P.G. Warden)
Fig. 71.3 The late Etruscan city gate at Volterra (photo P.G. Warden)
Fig. 71.4 Poggio Civitate. Reconstruction of the Orientalizing period complex, view from
the south (courtesy Murlo archive)
Fig. 71.5 Poggio Civitate. Roofing system of the Upper Orientalizing period complex:
Workshop (courtesy N. Winter)
Fig. 71.6 Poggio Civitate. Reconstruction of the archaic period structure, view from
the southeast (courtesy A. Tuck)
Fig. 71.7 Two bronze figurines from the Brolio deposit: a, male; b, female (photo SAT)
Fig. 71.8 Cortona, tumulus Sodo II: plan (courtesy SAT)
Fig. 71.9 Cortona, tumulus Sodo II: altar (photo SAT).
Fig. 71.10 Gonfienti: genral view of House 3 (photo P.G. Warden)
Fig. 71.11 Stela from Londa (photo SAT)
Fig. 71.12 Kilns in the Podere Funghi, production areas associated with the sanctuary
of Poggio Colla (photo Mugello Valley Archaeological Project)
72 Zifferero
Fig. 72.1 Distribution of archaeological sites identified during the Ager Faliscus survey
(1966–71), under the direction of Timothy W. Potter. The circle around Narce marks
the extent of a hypothetical territory of 5 km radius. (I) Bronze Age; (II) ca. tenth–

Index 1837
eighth centuries; (III) ca. seventh–sixth centuries; (IV) ca. fifth–fourth centuries
(after Potter 1976; courtesy The British School at Rome)
Fig. 72.2 Distribution of open sites (end of the seventh–sixth century) in the eastern
countryside of Caere: (crosshatching) the plateau of Caere and the port of
Alsium; (black circles) small open sites; (open circles) large open sites; (black
triangles) rural necropolises; (dotted areas) extensive necropolises; (asterisks) cult
places; (crosses) generic finds (drawing by F. Enei; courtesy of F. Enei)
Fig. 72.3 Rendering of an Etruscan open site identified in the countryside of Caere: (triangles)
fragments of small grindstones; (crosses) tiles; (open circles) limestone flakes;
(filled circles) red tufa flakes; (dashed line) the hypothetical perimeter of the
building (drawing by F. Enei; courtesy F. Enei)
Fig. 72.4 An Etruscan open site at Poggio Lascone (Tolfa), in the territory of Caere: view of the
surviving artificial terraces, designed to limit erosion of the hillside, located along
the side of the site (photo by the author)
Fig. 72.5 Marsiliana d’Albegna, Poggio Alto: view of the eastern elevation of the “Casa delle
Anfore.” On the left is the entrance of the building; on the right is a dolium placed
against the outer wall (photo by the author)
Fig. 72.6 Marsiliana d’Albegna, Poggio Alto: three-dimensional reconstruction of the
“Casa delle Anfore” showing the placement of pottery found during excavations
(2006–9; reconstruction by D. Calamandrei; courtesy D. Calamandrei)
73 Cinquantaquattro and Pellegrino

Fig. 73.1 Map of ancient Campania
Fig. 73.2 Pontecagnano. Plan of the ancient settlement (drawing C. Pellegrino)
Fig. 73.3 Tomb 74 of Monte Vetrano. Bronze vessels at the foot of the deceased
Fig. 73.4 Scarab of the Lyre-Player Group from Monte Vetrano (after Cerchiai and
Nava 2008–9)
Fig. 73.5 Pontecagnano. Horses’ mask from Tomb 4461 (after Cerchiai 1995)
Fig. 73.6 Pontecagnano. Plan of the tomb 928 (based on d’Agostino 1977, fig. 13)
Fig. 73.7 Pontecagnano. Inscribed chalice from Tomb 3509 (after Colonna and
Pellegrino 2002)
Fig. 73.8 Revetment system of the Temple of Apollo at Pompeii (after De Caro 1986)
Fig. 73.9 Map of Pompeii with localization of the archaic finds (based on Pesando 2010)
Fig. 73.10 Pompeii. Map of the temple in the “Triangular Forum” (after De Waele 2001)
Fig. 73.11 Fratte. Plan of the ancient settlement (courtesy R. Pinto)
Fig. 73.12 Etrusco-Corinthian pottery from Pontecagnano: kotyle by the Wolf’s Head Painter
(courtesy L. Cerchiai)
Fig. 73.13 Fratte. Juglet from Tomb 26/1963 with Greek inscription. Translation: Apollodoros
loves Xylla, Volcas sodomizes Apollodoros, Onata loves Nixò, Ybrichos have loved
Parmynis (after Pontrandolfo 1987, fig. 20)
Fig. 73.14 Fratte. Attic dinos from Tomb VI-XV/1927 (after Campanelli 2011)
Fig. 73.15 Fratte. Acroterion with Heracles and Nemean lion (after Campanelli 2011)
74 Bellelli
Fig. 74.1 Capua: general plan (courtesy V. Sampaolo)
Fig. 74.2 Capua: impasto vases and bronze items from tomb Nuovo Mattatoio I (courtesy
G. Melandri)

1838 Index
Fig. 74.3 Capua: silver cup from tomb Fornaci 722. Santa Maria Capua Vetere, Archaeological
Museum (after Allegro et al. 1995)
Fig. 74.4 Capua: plan of the archaic buildings found in the ‘Siepone’ area (after Sampaolo
2011)
Fig. 74.5 Capua: Stone statue of seated woman. Santa Maria Capua Vetere, Archaeological
Museum (after Italia omnium terrarium alumna, Milan 1989)
Fig. 74.6 Capua: Antefix decorated with female head. Santa Maria Capua Vetere, Archaeo-
logical Museum (after Johannowsky 1989)
Fig. 74.7 Campanian black-figure amphora. Siena, Archaeological Museum (photo SAT)
Fig. 74.8 Campanian bronze dinos. Berlin, Antikensammlung (after Kästner 2010)
Fig. 74.9 Capua: terracotta appliqués. Santa Maria Capua Vetere, Archaeological Museum
Fig. 74.10 Calatia: vases from tomb 296. Calatia, Archaeological Museum (after Laforgia 1996)
Fig. 74.11 Capua: Bronze fibula with appliqués, Santa Maria Capua Vetere, Archaeological
Museum (after Bonghi Jovino 2000)
75 Malnati
Fig. 75.01 Emilia and sites mentioned in text
76 von Eles
Fig. 76.1 Romagna and sites mentioned in text
Fig. 76.2 Bronze items from Imola, Pontesanto, grave 7 (from von Eles ed. 2007).
Fig. 76.3 Verucchio, settlement area in Pian del Monte and necropoleis (from von Eles 2014)
Fig. 76.4 Bronze cups with openwork handle (1. Verucchio Grave Lippi 32/2006 from von Eles
ed. 2007 2. Verucchio, Grave Le Pegge 3/1970, from Gentili 2003; Spadarolo,
Museo Civico di Rimini)
Fig. 76.5 Throne from Verucchio, grave Lippi 89/1972 (from von Eles 2002)
Fig. 76.6 Amber fibulae from Verucchio (from von Eles, 2016b)
Fig. 76.7 Horses burials: 1. Verucchio, Lippi Necropolis; 2. Bologna, Belle Arti Necropolis
(from von Eles, P., M. Mazzoli and C. Negrini, forthcoming)
Fig. 76.8 Burial circles. 1. Montericco Necropolis (from von Eles 1981) 2. San Martino
in Gattara (from Bermond Montanari 2005)
77 Baldelli
Fig. 77.1 Marche and sites mentioned in text
Fig. 77.2 Fermo: the hill (in the middle) and the necropoleis (on both sides)
(after Baldelli 2000c, 57)
Fig. 77.3 Fermo, grave goods of the warrior tomb Misericordia 78S/1957
Fig. 77.4 San Severino, necropolis of Pitino: 1. Oinochoe 2. Ivory pyxis, around 600 BCE.
Fig. 77.5 Bronze head from Cagli. First half of the 4th cent. Ancona, Arch. Mus.
(photo courtesy G. Baldelli)
Fig. 77.6 Etruscan-Latin funeral inscription from Pesaro. First cent. BCE. Pesaro,
Musei Oliveriani (photo courtesy Biblioteca-Musei Oliveriani, Pesaro

Index 1839
78 de Marinis
Fig. 78.1 Lombardy: map of the sites cited in the text
Fig. 78.2 Remedello Sotto (Brescia), selection of figurine and pots discovered in 1885 Late
7th – first half 6th cent. BCE. Museo Patrio di Antichità, Reggio Emilia (drawings
by A. C. Cattaneo)
Fig. 78.3 Forcello. Digitized plan of the phase F in areas Q-R-S 18–19
Fig. 78.4 Types of Greek trade amphoras from Forcello (Drawings by R.C. de Marinis).
Fig. 78.5 Forcello, phase E. Red-figured cup with figure of a Scythian archer, attributable to
Epiktetos or to the proto-Panaitian group. 500–490 BC (photo by R. de Marinis)
Fig. 78.6 1. Black-glazed cup of Volterran manufacture with the inscription Herini, from
Mantua, piazza Sordello; 2. black-glazed cup with the inscription fukis, from
Mantova; 3. grey ware bowl with the inscription eluveitie, from Mantua. Scale:
1, 4:5; 2–3, 2:5 (drawings by R. de Marinis)
79 Naso
Fig. 79.1 Ancient Latium and adjacent areas
Fig. 79.2 Votive offerings from Satricum: a. Impasto amphora inv. no. 10294. b. Bucchero
askos, inv. no. 10355. c.-d. Impasto dishes, inv. nos. 10501, 10500. Rome, Villa
Giulia Museum. (photo SAR-Laz)
Fig. 79.3 Velletri pediment reconstruction drawing (after Palombi 2010, p. 114, fig. 1a)
Fig. 79.4 Clay flask from Poggio Sommavilla with Sabine inscription (from NS 1896)
Fig. 79.5 Etrusco-corinthian pottery from Fossa; a. Oinochoe from grave 66. b. Cup from grave
215. c. Phiale from grave 429 (after D’Ercole and Benelli 2004, plates 19, 62 and
138)
80 Tagliamonte
Fig. 80.1 Southern Italy: findspots of items both imported from Etruria and imitating Etruscan
models
81 Guggisberg
Fig. 81.1 Distribution map of the bronze lozenge-shaped belts in Italy (compiled by A. Naso)
Fig. 81.2 Horse-shaped bronze bit from Pfatten-Vadena (photo F. Marzatico)
Fig. 81.3 Bronze ribbed bowl from Este (after Sciacca 2005)
Fig. 81.4 Bronze basin from Castelletto Ticino (after Italia omnium terrarum alumna,
Milan 1988)
Fig. 81.5 Bronze belt plaque from Este, Carceri. Este (after Frey 1969)
Fig. 81.5 Situla Benvenuti. Este, Archaeological Museum (inv. nos. 4667–4668)
82 Tomedi
Fig. 82.1 Major cultural groups in the south and south-east Alpine Area and sites mentioned
in the text
Fig. 82.2 Map of the fortified hill fort Cvinger at Stična and the surrounding grave mounds
(after Gabrovec 1994)
Fig. 82.3 Synopsis of the extremely rich grave fittings in the grave at Kleinklein in Styria
(after Egg, Kramer 2005)
Fig. 82.4 The distribution of bronze buckets of the type Merhard B2b
Fig. 82.5 A bronze situla of the Kurd-type with horse attachments from Tumulus 48 in Frög,
Carinthia (after Tomedi 2002)
Fig. 82.6 The ritual bronze chariot from Strettweg, Styria (after Egg 1996a)

1840 Index
83 Baitinger
Fig. 83.1a–c Bronze vessels from burial mound 1 Grave 12 of the Eichlehen group in the Frankfurt
City Forest: 1. situla; 2: ribbed-bowl; 3: basins (after U. Fischer 1979, pls. 8–10)
Fig. 83.2 Distribution of ribbed bowls (after A.-M.Adam 1997, 8, pl. 1)
Fig. 83.3 Pyxis from burial mound I in the “Kastenwald” of Appenwihr (département
Haut-Rhin) (after A.-M. Adam 1997, 14, fig. 3)
Fig. 83.4 Roasting spits and fire dogs from Beilngries “Im Ried-West” Grave 74
(after Torbrügge 1965, pl. 28)
Fig. 83.5 Reconstruction of a three-legged table in the Sammlung Nassauischer Altertümer
in Wiesbaden (after zu Erbach-Schönberg 1994, 43, fig. 3)
Fig. 83.6 Distribution of Etruscan beaked flagons (Schnabelkannen) (after Baitinger and
Pinsker 2002, 52, fig. 29)
Fig. 83.7 Distribution of Etruscan bronze basins (after Schönfelder 2001, 324, fig. 8)
85 Albanese
Fig. 85.1 Sicily: map of the sites cited in the text
Fig. 85.2 Types of bucchero vases from Sicily: a–b. Kantharos and chalice (Megara Hyblaea,
after Gras 1985, figs. 78, 72, n. 695). c. Kyathos (Syracuse, tomb Fusco 309, drawing
by R. M. Albanese)
Fig. 85.3 Types of transport amphorae. a-b. Himera, EMA and EMC types (after Vassallo 1999,
fig. 13: 48, 15: 57). c. Lipari, EMD type (after Cavalier 1985, fig. 13: 41). d. Ustica,
fractional amphora (after Albanese Procelli 2009, fig. 193)
Fig. 85.4 Sabucina: Bronze embossed rim basin (drawing by R. M. Albanese)
Fig. 85.5 Caltabellotta: bronze “Rhodian” oinochoe (after Panvini 1986–87, pl. XXX)
Fig. 85.6 Lentini: bronze situla (drawing by R. M. Albanese)
Fig. 85.7 Civita di Paternò: Bronze cista a cordoni (after Lamagna 2005, 104)
86 Rendeli
Fig. 86.1 Sardinia: map of the sites mentioned in the text
87 Naso
Fig. 87.1 Greece and western Turkey. Map of the main sites cited in the text
Fig. 87.2 Olympia: Etruscan bronze helmet with the dedication of Hieron of Syracuse
(photo A. Naso)
Fig. 87.3 Olympia; Silver plaque (diadem?) (photo A. Naso)
Fig. 87.4 Greek Inscriptions on Etruscan kantharoi from Greek sanctuaries 1: Perachora;
2: Ialysos; 3.–4 Lentini (after Naso 2006b, fig. 8)
Fig. 87.5 Etruscan Inscriptions from Greece: 1. Laconian cup from Aegina; 2: gem
from Perachora (after Cristofani 1993, fig. 1)
Fig. 87.6 Delphi: Etruscan bronze revetments from a folding chair (photo A. Naso)
88 Naso
Fig. 88.1 North Africa. Map of the sites cited in the text
Fig. 88.2 Bronze antenna sword (after Bianco Peroni 1970, pl. 45, no. 305)
Fig. 88.3 Bucchero pottery from Carthage (after von Hase 1989, fig. 29)
Fig. 88.4 Tessera hospitalis from Carthage (after Pugliese Carratelli 1986, fig. 55)
Fig. 88.5 Distribution map of bronze infundibula (compiled by A. Naso)

Index 1841
89 Joncheray
Fig. 89.1 Southern France and sites mentioned in text
90 Graells
Fig. 90.1 Distribution map of the Etruscan imports in the Iberian Peninsula
Fig. 90.2 Etrusco-Corinthian vase from Puig de Sant Andreu, Ullastret, Girona
(after Sanmarti, Asensio and Martin 2006, fig. 3)
Fig. 90.3 Bronze lion’s head from Emporion, l’Escala, Girona (MAC-Barcelona, Photo Graells)
Fig. 90.4 Infundibulum from Cancho Roano, Zalamea de la Serena, Badajoz
(after Gran-Aymerich 2006, fig. 3)
Fig. 90.5 Oinochoe handle from Málaga (after Blanco 1965, pl. 31)
Fig. 90.6 Etruscan mirror with image of Paris from Emporion, l’Escala, Girona. MAC-Barcelona
(photo Graells)
Fig. 90.7 Etruscan inscription on the foot of a candelabrum from Emporion, l’Escala, Girona.
MAC-Empúries (photo Graells)
Fig. 90.8 Lateral view of the bronze Etruscan helmet from Les Sorres Shipwreck, Gavà,
Barcelona (after von Bothmer 1990, 113)
Fig. 90.9 Lateral view of the bronze Etruscan helmet from Les Sorres Shipwreck, Gavà,
Barcelona (DAI-Madrid archive)

1842 Index
Colour plates
1. Populonia, tridrachm, silver
O(bverse) / chimera. 5th cent.
2. Populonia, tridrachm, silver

O/ wild-boar. 5th cent.
3. Populonia, didrachm, silver

O/ sea-monster. 5th cent.
4. Populonia, 10 units, silver

O/ gorgon’s head; under, X. Middle 5th cent.
5. Populonia, 50 units, gold

O/ lion’s head; under, X. Late 5th-early 4th cent.
6. Populonia, didrachm, silver

O/ gorgon’s head. First half 3rd cent.
7. Populonia, didrachm, silver. O/Hercle Heracles; R(everse)/ club

8. Populonia, bronze O/head of Sethlans; R/hammer and tongs: vetalu; pufluna

9. Populonia, 50 units, bronze. O/Nethuns and L; R/Griffin

Late 4th-early 3rd cent.
10. Volterra, dupondium, bronze. O/head of Culsans; R/club; velathri

Early 3rd cent.
11. Arretium-Cortona, as, bronze. O/Augur’s head; R/ax and hammer

Early 3rd cent.
12. Bronze O/Black African; R/elephant. Late 3rd cent.
13. Bronze O/male head; R/running fox-like dog. Late 3rd cent.
14. Tarquinia, tomba dei Leoni Rossi (photo D-DAI-ROM-F82.124)
15. Tarquinia, tomba dei Leoni Rossi (photo D-DAI-ROM-F82.126)
16. Tarquinia, tomba degli Auguri (photo D-DAI-ROM-F82.85)

Index 1843
21. Tarquinia, tomba della Caccia e Pesca (photo D-DAI-ROM-F82.289)
27. Tarquinia, tomba delle Leonesse (photo D-DAI-ROM-F82.294)
32. Tarquinia, tomba del Barone (photo D-DAI-ROM-F82.30)
35. Tarquinia, tomba del Cacciatore (photo D-DAI-ROM-F82.70)
38. Tarquinia, tomba dei Baccanti (photo D-DAI-ROM-F82.44)
39. Tarquinia, tomba del Triclinio (photo D-DAI-ROM-F82.354)
40. Tarquinia, tomba Giglioli (photo D-DAI-ROM-F82.185)
41. Tarquinia, tomba Giglioli (photo D-DAI-ROM-F82.186)
42. Tarquinia, tomba del Convegno (photo †G. Bellucci)

1844 Index
48. Tarquinia, tomba del Tifone (photo D-DAI-ROM-F82.322)

Etruscology - Naso

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Alessandro Naso (ed.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Bibliographic information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek

© 2017 Walter de Gruyter Inc., Boston/Berlin

Giuseppe M. Della Fina

II. Issues: Politic and society

Maria Cecilia D’Ercole

II. Issues: Technique and technology

Marshall Joseph Becker

Part 2: III. History

IV. Civilization: Early Iron Age

IV. Civilization: Orientalizing period

IV. Civilization: Archaic and Classical periods

IV. Civilization: Late Classical and Hellenistic periods

IV. Civilization: Etruria and Rome

Erik O. Nielsen and P. Gregory Warden

VI. Etruscans outside Etruria: Southern Italy

Teresa Cinquantaquattro and Carmine Pellegrino

VI. Etruscans outside Etruria: Central and Northern Italy

Patrizia von Eles, Gabriele Baldelli

Raffaele Carlo de Marinis

VI. Etruscans outside Etruria: Etruscan Finds in Italy

VI. Etruscans outside Etruria: Etruscan Finds in Europe

VI. Etruscans outside Etruria: Etruscan Finds in the Mediterranean

Rosa Maria Albanese Procelli

Raimon Graells i Fabregat

1 Why Etruscans and Etruscology?

1 See for English http://www.mysteriousetruscans.com/library.html (accessed April 27, 2015).

3 Erudizione e antiquaria a Perugia nell’Ottocento, edited by L. Polverini. Naples 1998: ESI.

2 Authors and structure of the book

The development of Etruscan history is covered accordingly in five chapters, which

Keywords: Herodotus, Dionysius of Halicarnassus, written sources, Tyrsenoi, Tusci

1 The written sources

1.1 Tyrsenoi in the northern Aegean: The ancient sources up

1.2 Migrating ethnic groups: The new way of thinking following

Herodotus’ concept of Tyrsenian identity is inconsistent; it varies depending on

3 There is no doubt that Herodotus’ Creston is to be placed in Thrace; Dionysius of Halicarnassus

1.3 The relationship between the island of Lemnos and Athens

1.4 Autochthonous Tyrsenoi: A Greek perspective on Rome

Linking mythical narratives to present-day intentions explains why the Roman

1.5 How should the Hellenic perspectives be read?

1.6 Rome’s ethnographic view of the North

2 Positions and Tendencies in Modern Scholarship

17 Cf. Schmitz 2002, 94–97; Allen 2011; Orr 2003.

2.1 Etruscheria, Etruria and the unity of Italy

Cosimo II de Medici in Florence was identified in connection with alleged Etruscan

19 Thomson de Grummond 1986; Cristofani 1978, 598–599; 1983; 1992.

24 Overviews can be found in Pallottino 1984 and Pfiffig 1969.

2.2 The European colonial view of the South

In the nineteenth century, scientific archaeological research of the Mediterranean

2.3 The higher culture in the East

53 This construction was picked up by Hencken 1968, 603–646.

2.4 The formation of the Etruscans replaces Etruscheria

61 Bloch 1954, 13–14, 23–24; cf. also Bloch 1972.

69 Pallottino 1942; 1947.

3 From the narrative to the unavoidable formation

80 These questions of fundamental methodological significance are discussed by Anderson 2006;

Keywords: Greek sources, Latin sources, Greek literature, Latin literature

1 Terminology and Semantics

4 See recently Bonfante 2002; de Simone 2004, 85–93.

1.1 Tyrsenoi in the northern Aegean: The ancient sources up

1.2 Migrating ethnic groups: The new way of thinking following

3 From the narrative to the unavoidable formation

1 The establishment of research methods

3 Mapping the workshops of Etruscan artifacts

4 New approaches to the meanings of images