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Throughout history, people have harbored desires to inflict endless pain and misery on others, a dark trait that remains unchanged in humanity.
10. The Larzac Curse Tablets
In 1983, a collection of lead tablets was unearthed from a tomb in Larzac, France. These tablets, inscribed in Gaulish using Latin script, not only contain a curse but also represent the lengthiest Gaulish text known to date. They offer a captivating glimpse into the dramatic events unfolding in Gaulish France around AD 100.
The curse is divided into two sections on separate tablets, authored by two distinct individuals. The first tablet records a dispute among several witches, while the second tablet attempts to counteract or mitigate the evil magic resulting from the conflict. Although scholars continue to debate the exact translation, it is widely believed that the curse was penned by someone who felt victimized by a coven of witches. The second tablet, placed in the tomb of the alleged perpetrator, invokes the goddess Adsagona, pleading for her to redirect the witches' malevolent actions back onto them in death, seeking a form of karmic retribution.
Several individuals are named in the text, including Severa Tertionicna, who is described as a “writer” and labeled with various titles such as sorceress, binding woman, and soothsayer. The targets of her curses, referred to as the “bewitched,” are identified as a mother and daughter, though the literalness of this relationship remains unclear. Researchers have also deciphered some details about the rituals believed to have been performed.
Severa is associated with the term licia-, which, based on a reference in Ovid’s writings, appears to relate to binding magic and the weaving of both literal and metaphorical threads. This concept also appears in Virgil’s works, where three differently colored threads symbolize a person’s fate. It is likely that Severa’s actions toward her victims involved deeply sinister practices, and the desire to outlive her and reverse the curse suggests a wish for her to endure eternal torment.
9. The Execration Texts
Over 1,000 instances of execration texts and rituals have been uncovered in Egypt, primarily from the Old Kingdom era (2649–2150 BC). The oldest texts, discovered in Giza and linked to the reign of Pepi II (2250 BC), denounce anyone plotting against the divine ruler, targeting “all individuals, nobles, commoners [ . . . ] who conspire or utter evil words against Upper or Lower Egypt for eternity.”
While the vast collection of texts varies in detail, their core concept remains consistent. Curses are inscribed on pottery or figurines, which are then shattered to symbolically inflict harm on the named individuals. Some texts depict military foes alongside bound figures, occasionally identified by name or title, such as a tribal or family leader. The curses range from broad condemnations, like those targeting Pepi II’s critics, to specific accusations against named persons.
The use of clay figurines as representations of enemies is deeply symbolic, rooted in the creation myth of Khnum, who fashioned humans on a potter’s wheel. The clay, seen as powerless in the hands of its creator, symbolizes the complete control over the figure’s destiny and form.
The “rebellion formula” appears consistently across centuries of execration texts. By the Middle Kingdom period, these texts had evolved into extensive records, listing rulers, chieftains, messengers, and even servants. Fragments of these tablets, often replicated by various scribes, have been discovered in tombs, stored in jars, and buried in multiple necropolises. The source of their magical power remains debated, with some experts suggesting it wasn’t the act of inscribing names or breaking clay that invoked the magic, but rather the rituals performed on the pieces before their burial.
8. The Cursed Greengrocer
While many individuals might seem deserving of a curse—military foes, romantic rivals, or that one estranged family member—a greengrocer is an unlikely candidate. Yet, around 1,700 years ago, a vegetable seller in Antioch provoked someone enough to become the target of a lengthy, Old Testament-style curse filled with fiery wrath.
Unearthed in a former Roman city in southeastern Turkey, this double-sided lead tablet was translated by University of Washington researchers. They sought to understand not only the curse’s content but also why it was directed at Babylas, the greengrocer. The curse begins dramatically, invoking thunder, lightning, and the full wrath of Yahweh, likening Babylas’s fate to that of Egypt’s firstborns.
What could the greengrocer have done to provoke such divine fury? While the curser’s identity remains unknown, it’s probable that a business rivalry drove someone to resort to curses to eliminate competition. The name Babylas might also offer a clue. During this period, Antioch was undergoing a religious upheaval, and coincidentally, another Babylas was martyred for his Christian faith. The Bishop of Antioch was executed in the third century, suggesting the greengrocer may have been targeted not for his trade but for his religious beliefs.
7. Cursing Venusta
While Babylas the greengrocer might seem an unusual target for a curse, the curses directed at a slave named Venusta stand out due to their sheer volume.
During an excavation of Morgantina in Sicily in the early 1960s, ten lead tablets dating back to the second or first century BC were discovered. Initially nearly unreadable, recent restoration efforts have enabled researchers to decipher their contents.
Four of the tablets contain curses targeting a slave named Venusta. Given the name’s commonality, there’s debate over whether the curses were aimed at multiple individuals or the same person. However, the mention of her owner in several tablets suggests that the same individual is referenced, deduced from the spacing of faded and partially legible letters.
The reason for Venusta’s unpopularity remains unclear, but her actions must have been severe to warrant such curses. The tablets’ inscriptions call upon the gods to condemn her to Hell. Hermes, the messenger god, is invoked to guide her, alongside Gaia and the underworld deities, with the plea that she be dragged to the underworld.
After being inscribed, the tablets likely underwent rituals involving hair, herbs, or fire before being cast into a pit or pool at Morgantina’s sanctuary. These watery pits were often viewed as gateways to the underworld, and it was hoped the gods would receive the message.
6. The Uley Curse Tablets
During the late 1970s, excavations at West Hill near Uley in Gloucestershire revealed a wealth of artifacts from a ceremonial site active from the Iron Age through the Middle Ages. Among the findings were nearly 100 rolled lead curse tablets, offering invaluable insights into the concerns of third-century life.
One tablet features a seven-line plea to Mercury, urging him to “exact vengeance for the stolen gloves, demanding that the thief lose their blood and health.” While revenge against thieves is a recurring theme in these texts, this one stands out as it provides the earliest and one of the few mentions of gloves in Roman Britain. Another tablet curses a thief with a miserable existence until stolen goods are returned to Mercury’s temple, hoping the god would render the thief unable to “urinate, defecate, speak, sleep, stay awake, or enjoy well-being or health.
Although many thieves and petitioners remain anonymous, some tablets include names. For instance, a petitioner named Canacus accuses Vitalinus and his son Natalinus of stealing his animal, asking Mercury to deprive them of health until the animal is returned. Another tablet reveals the long-standing tradition of name-calling, with Mintla Rufus seeking “divine retribution” for the theft of cloak material. While “Rufus” is a common name meaning “red,” “Mintla” is an unconventional choice, translating to “phallus.”
5. Pella Curse Tablet
Dating to the first half of the fourth century BC, the Pella curse tablet is significant for linguists as it suggests the coexistence of Ancient Macedonian and Greek in the city known as Alexander the Great’s capital. It is considered one of the earliest surviving Macedonian texts, narrating one side of a tragic love story.
The curse’s author expresses deep affection for Dionysophon, directing her wrath at “all other women, widows, and virgins, especially Thetima.” With Thetima and Dionysophon’s wedding approaching, the writer resorts to extreme measures to prevent it. The curse wishes Thetima into the care of Makron, the deceased individual with whom the tablet was buried, and the demons he would encounter in the underworld. Any woman marrying Dionysophon would face the same fate, with the curse only lifted if the writer retrieves and reads the scrolls again, allowing her beloved to marry—but only her.
The writer left no stone unturned, declaring that if Thetima marries Dionysophon, “evil Thetima will meet a grim end,” while the writer herself would be blessed with good fortune.
It’s safe to assume the curse failed, as the tablet was discovered in Pella in 1986. Around the time it was written, Pella was undergoing significant changes: it became Macedon’s capital, experienced major governmental and military reforms, and emerged as a hub for art, science, and literature. Amid these transformations, the timeless struggles of love and heartbreak persisted. The tablet offers a captivating glimpse into daily life, highlighting not only linguistic evolution but also the enduring nature of personal dilemmas, regardless of global events.
4. The City of David’s Curse Tablet
Jerusalem’s City of David boasts 6,000 years of continuous habitation, making it a treasure trove for archaeologists. During excavations of a late third-century Roman mansion, the Israel Antiquities Authority unearthed a 1,700-year-old curse tablet.
Kyrilla, the petitioner, likely enlisted a magician to inscribe the Greek text on the tablet, leaving nothing to chance. The curse invokes deities from three religions—Babylonian Ereschigal, Gnostic Abrasax, and Greek Hecate, Persephone, Pluto, and Hermes—along with nods to early Christian beliefs for good measure. Her target, Iennys, is believed to have been a middle- or upper-class individual involved in a legal dispute with Kyrilla.
While the nature of the dispute remains unclear, it was likely significant. Kyrilla’s magician wrote, “I strike and strike down and nail down the tongue, eyes, wrath, ire, anger, procrastination, and opposition of Iennys.” Rituals involving hammering and nailing likely accompanied the curse, reflecting a global belief in nails as a means to assert control over a target. The mansion where the tablet was found contained luxurious artifacts, such as carved gemstones and statues, hinting at the occupants’ wealth. The tablet was likely hidden in Iennys’s second-floor workspace, ensuring he remained in close, unsuspecting proximity to the curse.
Historians have precisely dated the mansion’s destruction to May 18 or 19, 363, coinciding with earthquakes that devastated the region, including the building where Kyrilla concealed her curse.
3. The ‘Ancient’ Curse of the Egyptian Mummy
Among ancient curses, King Tutankhamun’s is arguably the most renowned. Following the 1920s excavation of his tomb, rumors spread that the mummy unleashed a curse, claiming lives starting with the expedition’s sponsor, Lord Carnarvon. He died of a fever in Egypt, coinciding with the deaths of his dog in England and his pet bird, killed by a snake. The myth suggests that others who disturbed Tut’s tomb also met untimely ends.
While no curse truly existed, the legend of King Tut’s curse captivated imaginations. Egyptologist Dominic Montserrat traced the curse’s origins to an unlikely source: a 19th-century stage show featuring mummy unwrappings, which inspired horror stories about the consequences of such acts. These tales, written decades before Howard Carter’s discovery, laid the groundwork for the curse myth.
Louisa May Alcott, famed for Little Women, penned one of the most notable stories, “Lost in a Pyramid, or the Mummy’s Curse.” It tells of an explorer who steals a gold box from a mummy, later discovering the box contains cursed seeds. When planted, the seeds bloom into a white and scarlet flower, but those connected to it wither and die, including the explorer’s betrothed.
Montserrat believed Alcott’s story inspired the mummy curse legend, though other Egyptologists, like Salima Ikram, point to ancient Egyptian mastabas inscribed with images of crocodiles, lions, and scorpions as warnings of the fate awaiting tomb violators.
2. Hekate’s Curses
In 2009, the Museo Archeologico Civico di Bologna rediscovered two Roman curse tablets that had been stored untranslated since the 19th century. Dating back around 1,600 years to the late Roman period, their exact origin remains unknown. However, their translation reveals the infamous legacies of at least two individuals.
One tablet is unique as it targets a Roman senator named Fistus, who served during a period of declining senatorial influence. Despite his wealth, someone dared to curse him, invoking the gods to dissolve his limbs and crush him—a term repeated four times in the text—showing a lack of fear toward potential repercussions.
The second tablet curses a veterinarian named Porcello, meaning “pig.” Whether due to personal or professional grievances, the curse calls for the destruction of Porcello and his wife, Maurilla, through crushing, strangling, and killing. The tablet also features an etching of a mummified Porcello, likely intended to amplify the curse’s potency, similar to rituals involving nails and spikes.
Both curses feature an additional image: a woman with snakes for hair, likely representing Hekate, the goddess of necromancy, night, witchcraft, and magic, who was accompanied by two transformed women serving as her dog and polecat familiars.
1. The Bath Curse Tablets
Bath is renowned for its hot springs, which inspired the town’s name. Human activity at the site is believed to date back over 10,000 years, though the city itself was established around 863 BC after the waters allegedly healed Prince Bladud of leprosy. During the Roman occupation of England, the springs were considered sacred. Most of our knowledge about the site comes from excavations conducted between 1978 and 1983.
Sulis, the Celtic counterpart to the Roman goddess of wisdom, was believed to hear prayers and curses offered at the springs of Bath during the Roman era. Devotees would cast lead tablets inscribed with their pleas into the waters, hoping for divine intervention.
During the 1878–79 excavation of the baths, offerings to Sulis, including coins, gems, and lead tablets, were recovered from the sludge. One tablet, after years of speculation, was finally translated to read, “May the thief who took Vilbia from me dissolve like water.”
The curse listed ten names, suggesting potential suspects to the goddess. Initially thought to target a romantic rival, the theory was dismissed as illogical. Instead, “Vilbia” is now believed to refer to a stolen item, not a person.
Roman Britain is unique for its theft-related curse tablets, with the Bath tablet long considered an anomaly. In 1978, a tragic case of amoebic meningitis prompted a full excavation of the site, revealing a Roman roof beneath the Victorian floor. This discovery yielded over 12,000 coins, jewelry, and more than 100 curse tablets, shedding light on ancient grievances that, while seemingly minor today, were once deeply significant.
For instance, Docilianus penned a curse stating, “I curse the one who stole my hooded cloak [ . . . ] may the goddess Sulis inflict him with ultimate death.”
