SOCIAL AND CULTURAL SIGNIFICANCE OF

ETRUSCAN FEMALE ANATOMICAL VOTIVES

ELIZABETH FRACCARO

Dissertation submitted in partial fulfillment of

the requirements for the degree of MA in Mediterranean Archaeology of

University College London in 2014

UCL INSTITUTE OF ARCHAEOLOGY

2

ABSTRACT

From first glance, it is clear that Etruscan uterus votives are reflective of an

understanding of human female anatomy. Beyond this, whether an understanding of

the uterus as the place of fertilization existed has been debated. This study examines

Etruscan female anatomical votive offerings and their representation of the Etruscans’

understanding of female anatomy, asking what can be understood about social and

cultural attitudes towards female sexuality and bodily autonomy, especially in relation

to fertility and childbirth in Etruria. These questions are addressed by contextualizing

the state of medical knowledge in Hellenistic central Italy (and whom had access to it),

looking at the broader Italic context of anatomical votive offerings, and looking closely

at female anatomical votive deposits and providing a micro-analysis of form at three

case study sites: Punta della Vipera, Tessennano, and Esquiline. I propose that most of

these votives were deposited by women of all social strata, in an act of expressing

concern and care for their own bodies and reproductive health.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Title Page Number

Abstract.............................................................................................................................2

Table of Contents..............................................................................................................3

List of Figures...................................................................................................................4

Acknowledgements...........................................................................................................5

Introduction: Looking at anatomical votive practice in Hellenistic Central Italy ...........6

Chapter 1: Literature Review.........................................................................................10

Chapter 2: Ways of Interpretation .................................................................................16

Research Methods

Theoretical Framework

Sampling Strategies

Chapter 3: Presentation of Data.....................................................................................22

Presentation of Sites in Detail

Hellenistic Central Italy

Punta della Vipera

Tessennano

Esquiline

Data

Uteri

Female Genitalia

Chapter 4: Analysis of Female Anatomical Votive Practice and Socio-cultural Ideals

of Female Sexuality and Fertility in Etruria.................................................35

Hellenistic central Italy and female anatomical votives

Who made votives, and for whom?

Medical knowledge of female health and reproductive organs

Medical knowledge reflected in votive practices

Chapter 5: Conclusion & Where do we go from here?...................................................48

References:……………………………………………………………………………. 50

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LIST OF FIGURES

Figure Number: Title Page Number

Figure 1: Almond-shaped...............................................................................................25

Figure 2: Ciabatta-shaped..............................................................................................25

Figure 3: Egg-shaped.....................................................................................................25

Figure 4: Egg-shaped.....................................................................................................25

Figure 5: Furrowed........................................................................................................26

Figure 6: Pear-shaped....................................................................................................26

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This dissertation would not have been possible without the help and guidance of

many people. I would like to thank Cyprian Broodbank (UCL) for his unwavering

enthusiasm and scrutinizing questions which brought to light possibilities and queries I

had not yet considered, and helped shape and guide my research and writing following

the VIVA presentations. His willingness to answer even the most mundane or paranoid

emails is much appreciated.

Many, many thanks to Corinna Riva (UCL), the sole advisor of this dissertation.

Her enthusiasm for the topic and encouragement from the start, in addition to constant

support and reassurance throughout the process, made a difficult task manageable and

enjoyable. Especial thanks for her rigorous reviews, without which this dissertation

would not be what it is today. Additionally, I must thank her for being in touch with

Rebecca Flemming in regards to her current work on Etruscan uterus votives, and

arranging for it to be sent on to me. I am in turn thankful to Rebecca Flemming

(Cambridge), who very kindly passed on her current work Wombs for the Gods, before

publishing.

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INTRODUCTION –

Looking at anatomical votive practice in Hellenistic Central Italy

Etruscan anatomical votive offerings have enjoyed a recent blossoming of

interest by the academic community. Historians have studied their growth, and

eventual decline, in popularity across the Italian peninsula from the fourth to second

centuries BC. Archaeologists have quantitatively analyzed these votives, providing a

wealth of numerical data. The uterus votive offerings have piqued the interest of a

number of scholars including historians Fay Glinister and Rebecca Flemming, but still

there is gap in knowledge specifically regarding the social significance of female

anatomical votive offerings in Etruscan culture outside of religious practice, particularly

in regard to perceptions of bodily autonomy and female sexuality.

This is due, in part, to the sheer lack of information: textual sources are scarce

and archaeological evidence provides only very specific types of information. Any

texts on anatomical votive offerings were written by the Romans or Greeks, not the

Etruscans themselves. This literature provides some insight into the practice of

anatomical votive offerings, but does not offer any true representation of Etruscan

votive practices, let alone the specific religious and social context surrounding the

offering of anatomical uterus votives, which form the material analysis of this

dissertation. Archaeologists have gathered immense quantitative data, but attempts at

interpreting the social significance of these anatomical votives, particularly the female

anatomical votives, are severely lacking. The Etruscans’ understanding of female

anatomy and the cultural trappings of sexuality, bodily autonomy, and the expression of

these based on the socio-economic status of the individuals creating these deposits has

been largely (though not entirely) ignored in anatomical votive scholarship from the

topic’s inception. These anatomical votives are a window into the way Etruscans

understood their bodies: both the understanding of anatomical functions and the social

values placed on bodies, or parts of bodies, might be gleaned from the studying practice

of anatomical votive offerings, and I will explore these questions in this dissertation.

Hundreds of terracotta uteri have been found throughout Etruria, Latium, and

central Italy in varied contexts from urban temples to rural shrines in the hinterland.

Anatomical votives have thus far been found exclusively as offerings in sanctuaries.

The geographic range of the over three hundred sites at which anatomical votives have

been found ranges from the Arno valley to as far south as Campania, and exclusively on

7

the Tyrrhenian side of the Italic peninsula (Recke 2013, p.1073). This study focuses

on those female anatomical votives found in Hellenistic central Italy, and therefore does

not discuss anatomical votives found south of Rome. They are made in various forms,

from simpler, mass-produced molds of uteri and outer female genitalia to more

complex, hollowed uteri and even bespoke uteri reflecting specific ailments or

irregularities of the uterus. The hollowed uteri even had small clay spheres inside them,

thought by scholars to represent intrauterine life. In nearly all of the nearly 400 uterus

votives found at Vulci, a small clay sphere with a diameter of about one centimeter was

within, separate from the uterus and moveable within the hollowed space. In some of

these wombs, there were two spheres (Baggieri 1998: 790). Gaspare Baggieri, who

published a catalogue of the Etruscan uteri votives found at Vulci, notes that the first

representations of intrauterine life in historical literature are the fetal positions of

Ginecya, dating to the second century BCE and written by Soranus of Ephesus;

however, the uteri at Vulci date to the seventh century BCE, five centuries earlier than

the writings of Soranus of Ephesus (Baggieri 1998: 790). It seems obvious that the

Etruscans possessed an innate understanding that the uterus was the place of

fertilization; outside of their religious context, these uteri also represent the Etruscan’s

understanding of female anatomy. Examining Etruscan female anatomical votive

offerings and their representation of the female body what can we understand about

Etruscan attitudes towards female sexuality in relation to fertility and childbirth?

The terracotta votives of outer female genitalia, placenta, and uteri were largely

anatomically correct; the practice of haruspicy on animal entrails hints that the

Etruscans were comfortable examining the inner workings of bodies, but whether this

extended to the human body remains unknown. As a modern scholar, I must be careful

to acknowledge that today we have codified access to human insides. Doctors have an

almost exclusive right to access the interior of the human body; all others are limited to

book knowledge and representations. Did this kind of codified access to human insides

exist in the Etruscan world- and was there a difference between first-hand versus

medical knowledge? What type of access did women have to this knowledge,

especially knowledge concerning their own bodies, and how did this differ across social

strata? How is this reflected in their own votive practices? To answer these questions,

I look to Fay Glinister and Rebecca Flemming’s work on Roman women and medicine.

The Roman world was widely influenced by Etruscan culture, and due to the sheer lack

of surviving material, I must rely on the extant textual material from Rome to attempt to

8

piece together what medical knowledge existed and how it was practiced and shared in

Etruria.

Many scholars believe that the practice of anatomical votive offerings was

popularized in Etruria as Roman colonization spread (Izzet 2001, p.189; Glinister 2006,

p.89; Schultz 2006, pp.11-12). I would contest this notion, as anatomical votives

existed independently in Etruria long before Roman colonization, and dropped in

popularity long after Roman colonization. I believe that changes in the practice of

anatomical votive offering are reflective of cultural shifts during a time of great social

upheaval and change as a result of Roman colonization. However, I do not believe that

Roman colonization was concerned with nor directly culpable for instigating any

changes in votive practice.

Additionally, it has often been assumed that because these votives were made

from terracotta, and often mass-produced, that this was purely a religious practice of the

poor and rural communities. The presence of these votives in rural and urban contexts

across Etruria and the Italian peninsula suggests that this assumption is incorrect.

Rather, I would argue, these female anatomical votives offer a glimpse at women’s

participation in religion across social strata. I wish to examine how available these

female anatomical votives were across socio-economic strata, and tease out what

divides in female medical knowledge and attitudes towards female sexuality may have

been reflected in these votive practices.

In the following chapters, I will discuss the historical and archaeological context

of Hellenistic central Italy, current scholarship on female anatomical votive practices as

well as Roman women in medicine in religion, and I will highlight the limitations of

previous archaeological research on female anatomical votives [Ch. 1]. I will address

assumptions about Etruscan female anatomical votives: I aim to prove that the

assumption that these votives were anatomically correct and do represent intrauterine

life is correct. I will also address the question of who made these votive deposits and

offerings, and consider different levels of contextualization, from site, to region, and

then look at the broader Italic context. I will present the sites I have chosen for my case

studies and their female anatomical votive deposits, namely Punta della Vipera,

Tessennano, and Esquiline, in detail [Ch. 2]. In analyzing this material, I will focus on

the question of why they were deposited in the first place in relation to attitudes towards

sexuality and fertility of the depositors. Bringing together archaeological data from

these sites and relevant literary sources, I will extrapolate what Hellenistic Italy’s

9

knowledge of actual female anatomy might have been, and who had access to it. I will

contextualize the material with stratigraphic information, where on site each votive was

found, how each was deposited, whether they were deposited in groups or scattered, etc.

What was happening at Tessennano that was not happening at Punta della Vipera and

Esquiline? I will include a micro-formal analysis of form, looking closely at

photographs, determining measurements, and when and how these votives change [Ch.

3]. Finally, I will distill key studies of sexuality, paying particular attention to studies

on fertility, providing a theoretical framework for interpreting these votives and their

significance to the Etruscan’s understanding of female anatomy and the cultural

trappings of sexuality, bodily autonomy, and the expression of these based on the socio-

economic status of the individuals creating these deposits [Ch. 4].

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CHAPTER ONE –

Literature Review

Female anatomical votives are part of a larger phenomenon of anatomical votive

offerings that swept Hellenistic central Italy from the late fourth century BCE (with

isolated occurrences as early as the fifth century) but rapidly disappeared from the

second to first centuries BCE (Schultz 2006, pp.11-12). Anatomical votives are found

exclusively as offerings in shrines and sanctuaries, and the votives themselves were

made and sold in the immediate vicinity of the shrine, sanctuary, or cult place (Recke

2013, p. 1073). Frequently, the votives were life-size and mass-produced without

deformities, but bespoke additions or modifications are found, especially on or within

uterus votives (Potter and Wells 1985, pp.28-29). The votives are generally believed to

have been offered in thanks for healing, or in supplication for healing (Schultz 2006,

p.17). Their spread in popularity is believed to be due, in part, to Roman colonization

(Izzet 2001, p.189; Glinister 2006, p.89; Schultz 2006, pp.11-12). The presence of

male and female genitalia and reproductive parts as anatomical votives allows for the

consideration of gendered participation in religious practice (Schultz 2006, p.12). The

predominance of female anatomical votives in anatomical votive deposits across

Hellenistic central Italy suggests that if women were the only gender offering these

female anatomical votives, then female worshippers may have outnumbered males, and

suggests that goddesses and women played a dominant role in religion and votive

practice in the Hellenistic period (Glinister 2006, pp.92-93). I am inclined to agree with

the assumption that the majority of these female anatomical votives were deposited by

women themselves, though I do not rule out the possibility that they may have, on

occasion, been deposited by men. I discuss this further in chapter two and four.

In the past, scholarship popularly suggested that these votives appeared in

contexts where actual healing and medicine was practiced, but this has fallen out of

favor, as few sites would have been capable of containing healing spaces, nor is there

any evidence that medical professionals or practitioners traveled to these sites to

practice healing (Schultz 2006, p.100; Recke 2013, p.1075; Turfa 2006). Fay Glinister

also cautions that “we should be wary of the automatic assumption that ‘body part’

always equals ‘disease cured or to be cured,’ (Glinister 2006, p. 93); not every

anatomical votive represents a request for healing. It was also popularly assumed in the

past that this votive practice was exclusive to the plebian and lower classes due to the

11

rough materials used and mass-production of the votives. Again, this has fallen out of

favor as scholars such as Fay Glinister (2006), Matthias Recke (2013), and Vincent

Jolivet (2013) have argued that terracotta itself was not inherently a cheap material in

the Hellenistic period, and does not indicate that anatomical votives were the exclusive

practice of peasants; I too would argue that female anatomical votives were deposited

by women of all social strata in Etruria and Hellenistic central Italy, which I will

discuss further in chapter 4. Anatomical votive deposits were originally thought to be a

popular practice in the rural hinterland and as a result of Roman colonization, but today

more nuanced scholarship accounts for the enormous urban deposits found at Veii and

Rome and allows for cross-cultural influence to account for the spread in popularity and

eventual (though sudden) decline in practice (Schultz 2006, p. 100).

Anatomical votives were largely ignored by academics until the 1970s. Part of

this is because they are often made of very coarse materials, are not finely detailed or

constructed and made relatively ugly additions to personal or museum collections

compared to finely worked ceramics and stone-works with classical mythological

themes (Recke 2006, p. 1080). The votives themselves are often in poor condition,

sometimes as a result of being produced with well-worn molds and being produced en

masse, with little regard to long-term preservation or use (Recke 2013, p. 1080). For

the public sphere and academic circles that had all been taught to revere classical

standards of beauty, these votives were of little interest.

Extant literature on female anatomical votive practices in Etruria makes up a

disappointingly small portion of the larger collections dedicated to the discussion of

anatomical votive practice in Etruria during the Hellenistic period. Despite a

flourishing interest in the subject area beginning in the 1970s, I suspect some of the

reticence to discuss the female anatomical votives is due to the fact that so very many

assumptions must be made to proceed with any attempt at analyzing the social

significance of the objects and religious practice.

One such assumption is that these female anatomical votives were deposited by

women. While allowing for the possibility that these votives were on occasion

deposited by men or children, perhaps on behalf of a women, the feminine elements of

the votives and concern with fertility suggest that women actively participated in

dedication and deposition of these votives. As Fay Glinister notes, fertility is not only a

female concern (Glinister 2006, p.92). As suggested by the larger patterns in

anatomical votive offering practice, the majority of these objects were likely deposited

12

by women as an individual rite of private religion. Votives were deposited by

individuals as a direct request or act of thanks in regard to their own body, to a specific

deity; this is evidenced by inscriptions on various votives found in sanctuaries at

Fontanile di Legnisina (Vulci) dedicated to Uni and Vei, numerous epigraphic

dedications compiled by Turfa to Menerva, Selvans, Tiur, Turan, Uni, and Vea in

Etruria as well as dedications to Aesculapis, Ceres, Diana, Juno, Mater Matuta,

Minerva, in Latium and Campania (Glinister 2006, p.94; Turfa 2004) among others,

and by the mass-production and economy of anatomical votives, an example of which

can be found in Sara Bon-Harper’s detailed report on the economy and production of

votives at Podere Funghi (Bon-Harper 2011). Dedication of anatomical votives was a

broad and widespread religious custom- so much so, that while we do find anatomical

votives where they were placed in sanctuaries, at or near the altar, by worshippers,

many more have been found in secondary depositions such as pits called stipes or

bothroi in the near vicinity of the altar or in the area of the sanctuary, where former

dedicated votives were moved in order to make room for new offerings; such pits can

be found at Tarquinia, Veii, Ara della Regina with 1000 votives in secondary

depositions, Pendici di Piazza d’Armi with 3000 votives in secondary depositions,

Fregellae with 3000 votives in secondary depositions, and Ponte di Nona with 8000

votives in secondary depositions (Recke 2013, 1074; Turfa 2004). The placement of

the votive offerings at the altar in a sanctuary, and the rare inscription to a god or

goddess as mentioned above, both imply that this practice of offering anatomical

votives was a communication between the worshipper and deity, on a personal and

individual level. The detailed, human anatomical votives likewise indicates that these

votives were representative of the mortal human making the offering, not of the deity

(Recke 2013, 1074).

Furthering buttressing the assumption that the majority of the female anatomical

votives were deposited by women is the healing cult context in which they were

deposited. It has frequently been posited that the large collections of anatomical

votives were deposited at sanctuaries with a medical or healing cult (Turfa and Becker

2013 p.862; Glinister 2006; Graham 2013; Potter 1985; Turfa 2006). These sanctuaries

and shrines are found at rural sites such as Tessennano, and urban sites including Caere,

Tarquinia, Vulci, and Veii (Turfa 2006, p. 64). Whether rural or urban, these

sanctuaries often were dedicated to deities with healing powers or healing cults.

Anatomical votives with inscriptions to specific deities, such as Vei, Uni, Turan,

13

Menerva, and Aritimi, are exclusively to deities with known healing powers or

associations with healing cults in the Greek and Roman pantheon and religious practice.

Turfa (2006, p. 66) suggests that the vow and thank-offering were more important at the

sanctuary than the practicalities of treatments and cures, meaning the actual practice of

healing or medical treatment was unlikely to have taken place at these sanctuaries and

shrines. It is important to distinguish this type of practice from the Catholic tradition of

associating a specific saint or deity with a certain affliction or cure (Paul 2008;

Woodward 1990). Rather, Etruscans were likely to direct their offerings and

dedications to the sufferer’s chosen patron. For example, though Heracles might be

thought to be specifically interested in the injuries and wounds of soldiers, female

torsos have been found at the sanctuary dedicated to Heracles at Praeneste (Turfa 2006,

pp. 70-71). Heracles and other deities were evidently not considered exclusively

concerned with or specifically powerful in a specific arena, affliction, or even gender in

regards to votive depositions. The sanctuary of dedication and manner of offering an

anatomical votive appears to be an individual decision and personal religious act in

Etruria, and supports the assumption that women were depositing their own female

anatomical votives in relation to their own issues with sexual and reproductive health.

As ever, the lack of any extent Etruscan literature forces scholars to look at

Roman and Greek texts; so it is in scholarly explorations of Etruscan medical

knowledge, and how it may have shaped anatomical votive production and dedication.

Roman medical texts were almost exclusively written by or accredited to men. The

female version of the physician or midwife makes appearances in these texts, and

certainly can be found on epithets and funerary inscriptions, indicating that women

practicing medicine and specialists dealing with women’s reproductive and sexual

health existed in the classical world (Flemming 2007, 450). These women were valued

by their communities, though no book learning or even literacy can be assumed for the

midwives. Female doctors who operated at the same level as men often came from the

higher strata of society where education was expected to be attained by all, though

perhaps unequally distributed amongst the sexes (Flemming 2005, 451; Hemelrijk

1999). Women did write medical texts in antiquity, making up five percent of the

published authors (Flemming 2007, p. 259). Female names that appear in medical

texts, however, cannot strictly be assumed to be the authors nor even the original

creator of the remedy or treatment. However, there are frequent general references to

female medical practitioners in Hellenistic and Roman texts, and given the great

14

likelihood that those women from the upper social classes were educated and literate,

the possibility of female authorship behind fictitious pen names, or perhaps

consolidated by male authors under a single fictional name, is likely (Flemming 2007,

p.276). Asclepiade’s On External Pharmaka (first century BCE) and Galen’s

Compound Pharmaka according to Place (second century CE), credit female authors

(i.e. Aquilia, Antiochis, Spendousa) as the practical (not literary) source for various

feminine health remedies without much further comment (Flemming 2007, pp. 265-

267). In Galen’s Pharmaka, the author frequently quotes women such as Cleopatra and

Aspasia on all matter of female problems, from pregnancy to abortions, uterine disease,

and beauty remedies (Flemming 2007, p. 270). While tempting to see this as the first

time individual women are credited, it is more likely that these names were chosen

because they hold some weight and authority (Flemming 2007; Scarborough 1986).

Ultimately, I would argue that the most consistent feature of women in medical texts is

that they are often quoted from an earlier (male-written) source, and never can be traced

to an actual, living woman who practiced medicine. The fact that male medical text

authors so consistently quoted one another using such vague sources as these

unidentifiable, perhaps fictional women, without regularly adding their own notes or

practices, indicates that these authors believed it better, and easier, to continue this

practice rather than actually get their own hands ‘dirty’ and study or practice female

sexual or reproductive medicine and health. The male medical authors, particularly

heavyweights Galen and Asclepiade, appear to be quite happy to leave the practice and

authority on female sexual and reproductive health to women- female practitioners,

from doctors to midwives, and fictional sources and authors, were regarded as the

authority on these subjects.

Another popular scholarly assumption that should be addressed is that these

votives represent knowledge of female anatomy and its role in reproduction.

Specifically, can it truly be assumed that these uteri represent Etruscan knowledge that

the uterus is where life is formed? Do the small terracotta balls sometimes found within

hollow uterus votives actually represent intrauterine life (Turfa and Becker 2013,

p.867)? Emma-Jayne Graham (2013) makes the argument that it is not evident that

these female anatomical votives such as votive uteri reflect actual anatomical

knowledge or if they are representations of the cultural concept of the wandering womb

[the womb was believed to be an “animal within an animal” and capable moving

throughout the body in search of moisture, causing all manner of afflictions and

15

illnesses; this concept first appears in Greek medical texts, the earliest extant written

record of the wandering womb is found in the teachings of Hippocrates] (Graham 2013,

p.219). She argues that all female anatomical votives, even those hollow uterus votives

with terracotta balls within, are equating conception and, later, birth with cultural

expectations of a woman and her role as a mother, and not about creating new life or

the status of the fetus (Graham 2013, p.222). Graham further argues that because the

terracotta balls do not take on the explicit form of a fetus, they are not representative of

intrauterine life but rather an oblique reference to fertility. Graham is in slim company

making these arguments. I would not expect Etruscans to have widespread knowledge

of what a fetus may look like: throughout the ancient world and indeed well into our

modern era, cultural taboos and inhibitions against opening up the human body

pervade. Specific practices regarding the treatment of a corpse, and ideas of a corpse as

dangerous or having “polluting properties,” as well as specific taboos against

explorations of cadavers are known to have existed in the ancient world even during the

explosion of medical knowledge in the Hellenistic period (Flemming 2005, p.453).

Indeed, my use of “cadaver” is perhaps erroneous, as it wrongly implies that there was

some existing concept of a medical use for a corpse. To claim that these terracotta balls

within the hollow uteri do not represent a fetus or intrauterine life purely because they

do not take on the explicit shape of a fetus is to purposefully ignore the reality of

anatomical knowledge and exploration in the Hellenistic world.

16

CHAPTER TWO –

Ways of Interpretation

Research Methods

In the previous chapter, past research on female anatomical votives and

anatomical votive practice at large in Hellenistic central Italy was shown to rarely and

occasionally problematically address questions of whom was making deposits, why,

and with what intent. Female anatomical votives are both culturally and personally

significant to the depositors; but it is the objective behind the offering of female

anatomical votives that is so personal. Any anatomical votive offering is, of course,

personal because it is a representation of one’s own body, but it may also be a form of

display. The act of making a votive offering is a very public one, done in a public

space made expressly for making such offerings. The anatomical votives are both and

at once an expression of the cultural expectations placed on the body and on religious

practice; they are also an expression of personal concerns over and desires for one’s

own body, which may or may not be informed by the same cultural expectations

guiding the act of offering that votive. These incredibly personal concerns are

integrated into the very public act and place of votive offering practices.

This study has taken a multi-level approach to analyzing the practice of offering

female anatomical votives. Broadly, it first looks at the history of votive offering

practices in Hellenistic central Italy, as well as medical practices and female

involvement in medicine to contextualize the knowledge involved in creating and

offering these anatomical votives. It looks at the regional level, discerning differences

and patterns in votive practices, especially between rural and urban sites and

sanctuaries. Finally, the three sites chosen as case studies are compared: Punta della

Vipera, Tessennano, and Esquiline. It is only through these comparisons that female

anatomical votives in Hellenistic central Italy can be contextualized; the only way to

understand the significance of the votives is by learning what is happening elsewhere,

with votives other than uteri and female genitalia.

To address the theory that Roman colonization was the moving force behind the

spread and ultimate decline of anatomical votive practices, and specifically female

anatomical votive practices, this study has examined historical sources and current

archaeological research in central Hellenistic Italy. In addressing the anatomical

accuracy and knowledge that shaped the production and deposition of female

17

anatomical votives, this study looked to Greek and Roman medical texts to

contextualize contemporary anatomical and biological knowledge in Hellenistic central

Italy. The advantage of using these texts is that a broad understanding of what medical

practice and knowledge consisted of, and what general ideas of human reproduction and

female reproductive health could be garnered. However, the limitations of using these

texts to understand the female anatomical votives deposited in Hellenistic central Italy

and specifically those objects at the case studies selected are obvious- learned doctors

and medical practitioners were a very small portion of the population of the ancient

world in general, and were very unlikely to be practicing on the majority of the women

making these deposits, nor were their texts likely to have been widely read. However,

they did provide context with which the anatomical votives shapes and features and

circumstances of deposition could be understood.

Theoretical Framework

This study looks to feminist archaeology to provide a framework for

understanding the historical circumstances surrounding and shaping the actions and

lives of women in Hellenistic central Italy. In interpretation, archaeology propagates

certain ideas about gender that are culturally specific, whether subconsciously or not

(Conkey and Spector 1985, p.2). In this study, I acknowledge that certain ideas about

gender seem self-evident to a modern, western woman- for example, that women are

inherently concerned about their own reproductive health, making any anatomical

votive deposit (and especially female anatomical votive deposits) a very personal and

private act. Gender itself is a conceptual issue that is important in the consideration of

social structure of societies, both present and past (Gilchrist 1991, p.495). Feminism in

archaeology has always been concerned with including the consideration of gender and

women in analysis and interpretation of the past, and with attempting to define spatial

control and gendered activity areas by identifying artifact patterns characteristic of

males and females (Engelstad 2007, p. 217; Gilchrist 1991, p.497). Archaeology

should continue to strive to consider the intersectionality of socio-cultural dynamics

such as gender and class (Conkey and Gero 1997, p.425), which is what this study

attempts to do in concern with female anatomical votive deposits in Hellenistic central

Italy.

This study looks to works on how archaeology see and defines identity,

especially gender and female presence in archaeology, to provide a framework for

18

interpretation of female anatomical votives in Hellenistic central Italy. Conceptualizing

the body allows archaeologists to reconcile issues of biology with cultural experience

and personal bodily autonomy and experience (Meskell 2001, p.192). Meskell argues

that identity and experience are grounded in the “materiality of the body” (Meskell

2001, p.193), but bodily identity is manipulated by the society in which the individual

exists.

It is of course worth recognizing in this study’s discussion of female sexuality,

that sexuality itself is a social construct which combines both biological, physical, and

psychological attributes, and which are expressed based on many factors including age,

class, ethnicity, religion, and cultural expectations and norms (Meskell 2001). Feminist

archaeology allows archaeologists to consider how gender and cultural gender

expectations are expressed by economic and social structures in objects and their

depositions. As Sian Jones (2000, p.446) notes, archaeological analysis and

interpretation needs to accommodate the “fluid and contextual” nature of gender and

identity and their associations with culture and place. Archaeological interpretations

have historically (and, unfortunately, today) relied on sexual narratives of

monogamous, heterosexual couples concerned only with reproduction (Voss 2008,

p.318). Voss rather saucily remarks that “most archaeological texts still read as if they

were written to be approved by a morals committee for the promotion of family values”

(Voss 2008, p.318) and I am inclined to agree. “Reproduction management” is a more

inclusive term that Voss proposes using to conceptualize ancient fertility- both those

acts made to increase it, and those acts to halt or prevent pregnancies (Voss 2008,

p.320). While this study is very much concerned with female reproductive health,

fertility, and sexuality, it makes no assumptions that sex was only between men and

women for the sole purpose of procreation, that the fetuses and children conceived were

between married couples or on purpose- nor does it exclude the possibility that sex was

on occasion between married couples with the sole purpose of reproduction. All

possibilities may be reflected in female anatomical votive practice.

Interestingly, our modern notions and understanding of sexuality is based

largely on the casual archaeological research of such heavyweights as Alfred Kinsey

and Sigmund Freud. Today, sexuality in archaeology strives to consider the historical

and cultural expressions of sexuality, rather than attempting to use artifacts as

representative of a modern “principle” of sexuality or sexual behavior (Voss 2008, p.

319). The very identification of what is “sexual” is fraught with challenges to modern

19

assumptions and thought: it is here that attention to archaeological and historical

context is tantamount. Why an object was created, by whom, for whom, and for what

purpose are all layered contexts that contribute to and detract from an objects sexuality

(or representation of sexuality) (Voss 2008, p. 321).

It is necessary to clarify the assumptions in archaeological analysis and

interpretation from theorizing perception of identity to attempting to understand the

actual experience of individuals in the past (Joyce 2005, p. 141). It is important to note

that an assumption that is often assumed implicit and left unexplained in archaeological

analysis and interpretation of identity and gender is that embodiment of an identity or

gender is created and ordered in association to material culture (Joyce 2005, pp.150-

151; Lesick 1997, p.38). This study attempts to avoid this, and to explain

interpretations of embodiment and expression of identity and gender in relation to

female anatomical votives and deposition practice in more explicit terms. The body,

after all, is where personal agency and desire for one’s own body, and socio-cultural

expectations of the body, meet and are expressed (Joyce 2005, p.151).

Studies that guided me in understanding archaeological interpretation of fertility

and gender in Etruria were Larissa Bondante’s “Mothers and Children” chapter in The

Etruscan World (2013) and Alexandra Karpino’s “Killing Klytaimnestra: Matricide

Myths on Etruscan Bronze Mirrors” (2011). Bonfante’s work strove to differentiate

between what is known of Etruscan cultural ideals and realities for women and

children, and those same ideals and realities for the classical Greek world that we know

so much more of, and the awareness of its influence on the Etruscans (Bonfante 2013,

p.426). Some realities of Etruscan life have been gleaned from tomb paintings such as

the sixth century BCE paintings found in Tarquinia that present scenes from the lives of

noble and aristocratic families (Bonfante 2013, p.427). However, one must aware that

these scenes were created as displays of the wealth of these families, and it is important

to consider this when interpreting the content of the scenes. Burial goods and rites are

another source of information on the lives the Etruscans lead before their deaths.

Female urns for containing the ashes of the deceased are often the shape of a house or

home; the implied association is of the woman to the home and home-making, to family

and keeping of it (Bonfante 2013, p.431). Scenes of birthing and representations of

children at various stages of development are frequent in Etruscan art, with the realities

and practicalities of birth applying even to the gods, who have to squat to give birth and

are attended by midwives (Bonfante 2013, p.435). Images of infants breastfeeding are

20

frequent from the seventh century BCE well into Roman times; the earliest image found

to date is an eighth century BCE bronze horse trapping found in a woman’s tomb in

Latium (Bonfante 2013, p.438). Breastfeeding appears on images in Etruscan art

representing both mortal and divine mothers and their children, and appears to differ

immensely from Greek attitudes towards breastfeeding, which involved the two major

taboos of both nudity and human milk, which was considered to be a polluting

substance for adults to consume (Bonfante 2013, p.437). Bronze mirrors found in the

burial goods of elite women frequently have literary inscriptions, indicating a certain

level of literacy was obtained by the elite women who carried them (Bonfante 2013,

p.439). What types of texts they had available to them is unknown, and whether elite

women’s literacy afforded them more medical knowledge of their own bodies is up for

debate. However, why inscriptions appear so infrequently on anatomical votives

despite the fact that they were likely deposited by people of all social strata remains to

be examined- at least some of the women depositing votives were literate yet it does not

seem that inscriptions to a deity or indicating a specific wish were common practice.

Examining the practical and symbolic function of such inscribed mirrors sheds

light on their usage within the home and in funerary contexts. Iconography on these

mirrors frequently depicts of childbirth or raising children, familial relationships,

marriage, or courtship: scenes familiar to the stages of life of their owners (Carpino

2011, p. 4). Some of the mythological stories feature women who behave contrary to

socio-cultural concepts of womanhood- scenes from the mythological story of Uni

trapped to a throne by the son she rejected, at the mercy of his will, appear frequently

on mirrors, emphasizing cultural concepts of motherly love, affection, and the

consequences of rejection of children (Carpino 2011, p.7). Other narratives

emphasizing domestic concerns, tensions and complexities in familial relationships,

especially those between mothers and their sons, appear on Etruscan mirrors and reveal

the importance of the matron and her role in keeping a home and family (Carpino 2011,

p.18). Carpino argues that these images on Etruscan mirrors reveal Etruscan concepts

of womanhood: their domain was the home and the sanctuary, where they raised their

families and ensured their well-being by communicating with the divine (Carpino 2011,

p.18). Carpino’s assessment of the socio-cultural value placed on women to raise

children, and to keep a healthy and balanced home and family, contributed to my own

analysis of the uterus votives and their meaning to the women who deposited them.

21

Sampling Strategies

This study required sites that have well published catalogues with excellent

illustrated material depicting well-preserved female anatomical votives. Particularly, I

was searching for sites that had not only uteri, but also external female anatomical

votives, to further explore how Etruscans understood female anatomy and their own

cultural trappings of sexuality, bodily autonomy, and the expression of these by the

individuals creating these deposits.

22

CHAPTER THREE –

Presentation of Data

Presentation of Sites in Detail

Hellenistic Central Italy

To give fuller context to the case study sites, Hellenistic central Italy must be

discussed. The concept of Hellenization is itself fraught with controversy, and

Hellenistic central Italy is complicated by the rise of Rome. Undoubtedly, Greek

influence, culture, religion, and people reached central Italy. As Rome’s influence

spread, the model of the city-state that characterized much of Etruria began to dissipate

in favor of centralized power with localized administration that handled civic affairs

(Jolivet 2013, p.160). The Hellenistic period is characterized by the advancement of

modern science, gains in architecture and art, and dissemination of information through

the development of libraries (such as the famed library of Alexandria, later destroyed

by Romans) (Morgan 1998). Notably, in medicine, Herophilos (335-280 BCE) began

to describe and explore the workings of the interior human body and base his

conclusions on dissection of the human body (Flemming 2000). While certainly not

conventional, his writings reflect a growing curiosity and desire to learn concretely how

the human body worked in this period.

Culture that is identifiably Etruscan developed in central Italy from about the

ninth century BCE until Etruria was ultimately assimilated into the Roman Republic in

the late fourth century BCE; the Hellenistic period typically is considered to be from

the fourth century BCE until Rome’s conquest of Egypt in 30 BCE. During the seventh

century BCE, Etruria began to come into contact with Greek and Phoenician cultures;

this is reflected in both the language and religious practices that developed in this time

(Torelli, 2001). The Etruscan pantheon was a curious mix of native and Greek deities:

they adopted Artemis, Minerva, and Dionysus and heroes from Homeric epics, and it is

believed that Tin and Uni are the equivalent of Zeus and Hera (Torelli, 2001). In 390

BCE, Gauls attacked Etruria and Rome. Etruscan cities were left considerably

weakened, and over the following century it was absorbed into Rome (Cornell 1995,

Forsythe 2005). Some Etruscan cities, such as Tarquinia, clashed immensely with

Rome, coming to war from 387-386 and 358-351 BCE (Forsythe 2005, Cornell 1995).

As a result, central Italy was undergoing great cultural upheaval during the fourth

23

century BCE- Greek and Roman influence and political assimilation through

colonization by Rome all combined to create a hurricane of socio-cultural shifts.

Punta della Vipera

Punta della Vipera is a small sanctuary deposit near the modern city of

Civitavecchia (about thirty-two kilometers from the contemporaneous Etruscan city of

Cerveteri, and about twenty-two kilometers from Tarquinia, both cities clashed and

came to war with Rome in the fourth century BCE as Rome attempted to conquer

Etruria), which was excavated in four successive seasons from 1964-1967, with the

fourth excavation in 1967 focusing on an Roman villa in the vicinity. Much of the

material, particularly bronze figures, has been published by A. La Regina, M. Torelli,

and M. Pallottino, including three inscriptions to Menerva that were also analyzed by

AJ Pfiffig. However, much of the votive material, coins, and ceramics remained

unpublished until Annamaria Comella published this catalogue in 2001. Aside from

four intact uteri, fifteen fragments of uteri, and one outer female genital votives, many

other anatomical votives were found. These include one ear fragment, twenty-six upper

limb fragments, one lower limb; twenty lower limb fragments, three breasts, four male

genitals, two fragmented inner organs, sixteen intestines, two fragmented intestines, one

bladder and two hearts. (Comella 2001).

Tessennano

This deposit from outside Vulci, which reached its height in the sixth century

BCE and was home to many Greek immigrants. Vulci was conquered by Rome in 280

BCE. Following this the Roman colony Cosa was formed in the territory of Vulci, and

Rome cut off Vulci’s access to the port at Regae, leading to the decline and eventual

abandonment of Vulci (George 2014). The deposit is made up of about five hundred

and ninety-six terracotta objects, including male and female heads, figurines, animals,

and anatomical votives; additionally fourteen bronzes and an unknown number of

monetary objects were also found. However, because the Medelhavsmuseet in

Stockholm purchased a portion of these, the catalogue by Sara Constantini only

examines three hundred and thirty-four terracotta objects, twelve bronzes, and 94 pieces

of money. Of these terracotta votive objects, there are twelve uteri and two outer

female genitalia with an obvious clitoris, which will be discussed further in the next

chapter. Additionally, other anatomical votive objects include two ears, five hands, one

24

male lower torso, four legs, two fragments of legs, thirteen feet, three fragments of feet,

ten breasts, sixteen penises, thirteen fragments of penises, and five internal organ

representations. Unfortunately this deposit was recovered and excavated in an

agricultural zone, where they had been found accidentally. Constantini notes that

because of this, there was no systematic excavation as they rushed to recover material,

and there is thereby no information relating to the size and structure of the deposit. The

site itself is about a kilometer and a half from modern-day Canino, and the votive

objects themselves fall in line with the Etrusco-Roman cultural presence of nearby

Vulci. (Costantini 1995).

Esquiline

This deposit was discovered between 1887 and 1894 during the construction of

new roads in Rome in the vicinity of via Buonarotti. The deposit is believed to be from

a sanctuary to Minerva Medica due to a fragment of a lamp found by G. Gatti, which

was engraved with an inscription that read “[Me] nerva dono de [det]” (Gatti Lo Guzzo

1978). This was a very popular urban sanctuary site, and contained many votives such

as heads and figurines in addition to anatomical votives. Aside from five uteri and one

placenta votive which will be discussed further in the next chapter, six penises, two

fragmented penises, one partial torso (perhaps a uterus?) apparently affected by a

tumor, one left eye, one left ear, one arm, one forearm, four legs, one large leg, one

elbow, and one upper part of the knee were found here. (Gatti Lo Guzzo 1978).

Data

What follows is a quantitative and qualitative presentation of female anatomical

votives deposited at the three sites used as case studies: Punta della Vipera, a very

small sanctuary deposit; Tessennano, a large votive deposit outside of Vulci; and

Esquiline, a large urban deposit in Rome that mostly consists of medical and anatomical

votives. All catalogues were translated by myself, from their original Italian. In some

catalogues, measurements were vague or incomplete. Frustratingly, all of the

catalogues failed to make measurements of the weight of the votives, and did not give

guidance or make attempts to estimate the original size of the votive when all that were

found were fragments.

25

Of note are major types of uterus votives, first identified by Annamaria Comella

(1978), described below and including exemplary pictures from the catalogue of votives

found at Tessennano (Costantini 1995).

Almond-shaped: These uteri are divided

by a longitudinal cord with buttons,

from which depart other cords or

“branches;” each branch typically

curves or undulates and has its own

button at the terminus, along the side of

the uterus.

Figure 1 Almond-shaped. (Tessennao E11-II&

E11-III, Costantini 1995).

Ciabatta-shaped: Much like the egg-

shaped uteri, but characterized by deep

horizontal grooves and/or striations.

The egg-shaped and ciabatta-shaped

uterus votives have the most variation

in form and detailing.

Figure 2. Ciabatta-shaped (Tessennano E11-IX

Costantini 1995).

Egg-shaped: These uteri have a smooth body with a pointed tip Along the center are

pronounced buttons, and it usually has a large, open mouth.

Figure 3. Egg-shaped (Tessennano E11-Xa & E11-Xb ) Figure 4. Egg-shaped, on foot (Tessennano E11-XII

Costantini 1995). Costantini 1995).

26

Furrowed: On these uteri, two faces are

joined together, and usually rest on a

foot or stand. It is characterized by

deep, v-shaped furrows that are

narrower at the neck and mouth, and

gradually widen. The neck is usually

ill-defined and has an open mouth.

Figure 5. Furrowed (Tessennano E11-IVa & E11-

IVb Costantini 1995).

Pear-shaped: These uteri are

characterized by a longitudinal cord,

from which depart broad, arched

grooves. The mouth is usually

triangular with a small hole.

Figure 6. Pear-shaped (Tessennano E11-Ia

Costantini 1995).

27

Uteri

Punta della Vipera; very small sanctuary deposit (Comella 2001).

4 uteri, no terracotta balls within

1) Made from pinkish clay, the body of the uterus is made of two “crushed” halves,

joined together by a thick edge. It is furrowed with deep concentric grooves

curved upwards, and rests on a large foot. There is not an open cervix, nor any

terracotta balls within. It measures 8.6x7centimeters. (G8-I)

2) Made from pinkish clay, the uterus is almond shaped and has strongly curved

sides. The bottom of the uterus is flat, while the bottom of the uterus protrudes

outwards and has three lobes. The upper face of the uterus is bulging and

divided by a longitudinal cord down the center; on either side of the cord are

bulges separated by thin striations. There is not an open cervix, nor any

terracotta balls within. It measures 12 centimeters in length and 7.5 centimeters

in width. (G8-II)

3) Made from pinkish clay, the uterus is almond shaped. The bottom is flat, while

the upper face is bulging and divided by a longitudinal cord with three buttons,

from which depart three cords curved upwards with a button at the center of

each. There are large grooves on the neck. The mouth is triangular with a hole,

meaning it has an open cervix. There are no terracotta balls within. It measures

16 centimeters in length and 7 centimeters in width. (G8-III)

4) Made from ivory clay, the uterus is almond shaped. The bottom is flat and

protrudes outwards. The upper face is bulging and divided in half by a

longitudinal cord with four buttons, from which depart four cords with a button

at the center of each. The neck has large grooves. The mouth is triangular with

a hole, meaning it has an open cervix. There are no terracotta balls within. The

mouth is triangular with a small hole and so has an open cervix. It measures

17cm in length. In four fragments of a similar type the bottom is missing the

top flawed; three fragments do not fit together but preserve parts of the mouth

and portions of the top and bottom of the uterus, these measure 7.5 by 5.5

centimeters, 7 by 7 centimeters, and 14 by 7 centimeters. (G8-IV).

28

15 fragments of uteri

1) Made from pinkish clay, this fragment is only of the left upper face. It is similar

in shape to G8-I but with denser grooves. It measures 9 by 6.5 centimeters.

(G8-fr1)

2) Made from pinkish clay, this is a fragment of the upper face of a swollen egg-

shaped uterus, with center buttons from which cords branch off. It measures 7.3

by 6.7 centimeters. (G8-fr2)

3) Made from pinkish clay, this is a fragment of the upper face of a swollen egg-

shaped uterus, with a center button from which large cords depart. It measures

5.5 by 5.5 centimeters. (G8-fr3)

4) Made from pinkish clay, this fragment is a small portion of the upper part of an

egg-shaped uterus, with a surface furrowed by deep grooves. It measures 6.4 by

5.6 centimeters. (G8-fr4)

5) Made from ivory clay, this is a fragment of the upper face of a uterus with deep

grooves. It measures 5 by 5 centimeters. (G8-fr5)

6) Made from ivory clay, this is a fragment of the upper portion of a ciabatta

shaped uterus. The upper surface is bulging with deep furrows and grooves. It

measures 10 by 4.5 centimeters. (G8-fr6)

7) Made from reddish clay, this fragment is a portion of the surface with thick and

slightly curved horizontal cords radiating from a central cord. It measures 8 by

6.4 centimeters. (G8-fr7)

8) Made from pinkish clay, this fragment is a small portion of the upper part of an

almond shaped uterus, with two buttons on the upper surface. It measures 8 by

6 centimeters. (G8-fr8)

9) Made from pinkish clay, this is two fragments that combine to create a portion

of the left lateral part of an almond shaped uterus with large grooves. Together,

it measures 12 by 6 centimeters. (G8-fr9)

10) Made from pinkish clay, this fragment is a small portion of the upper part of an

almond shaped uterus. The upper surface is bulging and has a single groove

with buttons. It measures 4.7 by 3.4 centimeters. (G8-fr10)

11) Made from ivory clay, these are two fragments separate which together do not

quite fit the exemplary form of a ciabatta shaped uterus. The first fragment

forms a part of a heart-shaped mouth, and the second fragment forms a portion

29

of the upper surface with deep striations. The mouth measures 4.5 by 3.4

centimeters, and the surface measures 8 by 7 centimeters. (G8-fr11)

12) Made from greenish clay, these are two fragments which combine to make a

ciabatta shaped uterus with an upper surface crossed by deep horizontal

grooves. Together, it measures 12 by 7.5 centimeters. (G8-fr12)

13) Made from ivory clay, these are two fragments that do not combine and are

perhaps not of the same uterus. The first fragment makes up a part of a heart

shaped mouth; the second fragment is a part of the upper surface with deep

striations. The mouth measures 4.5 by 4.3 centimeters, the surface measures 8

by 7 centimeters. (G8-fr13)

14) Made from ivory clay, this fragment is a triangular mouth with a small hole (i.e.,

open cervix). It measures 5.2 centimeters in length and 4.7 centimeters in

width. (G8-fr14)

15) Made from pinkish clay, this fragment is a rosette shaped mouth. It measures 8

by 5 centimeters. (G8-fr15)

Tessennano- a large sanctuary deposit (Costantini 1995).

18 uteri

1) These uteri are almond shaped. The surface is divided by a longitudinal cord

with five buttons, from which four cords depart. There is a small appendage to

the left of the neck. The mouth is triangular with a small hole, meaning it has an

open cervix. (E11-I)

E11-Ia- three uteri:

1- made with light brown clay, and made from a well-worn mold. It is

hollow, with a

small terracotta ball inside. Traces of red paint and slip. It measures 18

centimeters

in length and 8.2 centimeters in width

2- made with pinkish clay. It is hollow, but no terracotta balls are within.

Traces of

red paint. It measures 18 centimeters in length, and 8 centimeters in

width.

3- made with pinkish clay, it has four striations in the neck. It is hollow, but

no terracotta

30

balls are within. Traces of red paint. It measures 18 centimeters in length,

and 8

centimeters in width.

E11-Ib- made with light brown clay, and made from a well-worn mold. The

neck does

not have any slots, but the buttons on the cord are more pronounced.

The mouth

is triangular with a small hole, meaning an open cervix. It is hollow,

with a small

terracotta ball inside. It measures 19 centimeters in length, and 8

centimeters in

width.

2) Made with pinkish clay, this uterus is almond shaped. The surface is divided by

a longitudinal cord with five buttons, from which depart five striations. The

mouth is triangular with a hole, meaning it has an open cervix. It is hollow, but

no terracotta balls are within. It measures 19.1 centimeters in length and 8.7

centimeters in width. (E11-II);

3) Made with pinkish clay, this uterus is almond shaped. The surface is divided by

a longitudinal cord from which depart three other cords per side. The mouth is

triangular with a large hole, meaning an open cervix. It is hollow, but no

terracotta balls are within. It measures 15.2 centimeters in length and 5.9

centimeters in width. (E11-III)

4) These uteri have a rounded form. Along the center of the surface is a series of

buttons from which depart undulating cords. A small, roundish appendage with

a small hole is to the left of the neck. There are two variants, distinguished by

the number of buttons along the center. (E11-IV)

E11-Iva- made with brown clay. Seven buttons along the center, from which

depart

seven undulating cords per side. It is hollow, with a small terracotta

ball inside.

There are light abrasions on the surface. It has a closed cervix. It

measures 14

centimeters in length, and 10 centimeters in width.

E11-IVb- made with orange clay. Nine buttons along the center, from which

31

depart nine

undulating cords per side. It is hollow, but no terracotta balls are

within. It has

a closed cervix. There are traces of red paint on the surface. It

measures 14.7

centimeters in length, and 9.7 centimeters in width.

5) Made with orange clay, this uterus has a roundish shape. The surface is divided

by a longitudinal cord with four buttons, from which depart four strongly

undulating cords per side. There are six grooves on the neck. The mouth is

triangular with a hole, meaning it has an open cervix. It is hollow, with a small

terracotta ball inside. The red paint on the surface is slightly eroded. It

measures 15.4 centimeters in length, and 9.7 centimeters in width. (E11-V)

6) Two uteri. They have a roundish shape. Along the center of the surface are

nine buttons from which depart six strongly undulating cords. There are

numerous grooves on the neck, to the left of which there is a small appendage.

The mouth is triangular with a distinct border and a hole at the center, meaning

it has an open cervix. (E11-VI)

1- made with orange clay, it is hollow, but no terracotta balls within. It has

traces of red

paint on the surface. It measures 16.7 centimeters in length and 9.8

centimeters in

width.

2- made with pinkish clay, it is hollow with a small terracotta ball inside. It has

traces of

red paint. It measures 16.5 centimeters in length, and 9 centimeters in width.

7) Made with pinkish clay, this uterus is an irregular egg shape. On the upper part

of the surface there is a button, below which are three undulating cords placed

horizontally on the body. A small appendage is to the right of the neck. The

mouth is triangular with a hole, meaning it has an open cervix. It is hollow, but

there are no terracotta balls within. There are traces of red paint and slip. It

measures 14.5 centimeters in lengthy and 8.2 centimeters in width. (E11-VII)

8) Made with brown clay, the uterus is an egg shape. On the surface are four

horizontal grooves that create large bulges, of which the last two lead to a

striation. There are four vertical grooves on the neck. There is an appendage to

32

the right of the neck. Near to where the neck narrows, and it covers a part of the

body of the uterus. It may have been perforated. The mouth is triangular with a

groove along the edge of the hole, whose edge is raised. It is hollow, but there

are no terracotta balls within. There are traces of red paint on the surface. It

measures 15 centimeters in length and 7 centimeters in width. (E11-VIII)

9) Made with pinkish clay, this uterus is ciabatta shaped. The surface has

numerous horizontal striations, and there is an appendage to the right. The base

is slightly raised. It is hollow, but there are no terracotta balls within. It has a

closed cervix, and small fractures on the bottom. It was made with a well-worn

mold. It measures 14.8 centimeters in length and 10.7 centimeters in width.

(E11-IX)

10) These uteri have an egg shape. The surface has a longitudinal cord that is

crossed horizontally and asymmetrically by other cords. Above these are two

impressions of different sizes, one per side of the longitudinal cord. There are

two types, distinguished by the different forms of the mouth and the lower face.

(E11-X)

E11-Xa- Made with pinkish clay. The mouth has a large hole with a distinct

edge,

meaning it has an open cervix. The lower face is flat. It is hollow, but

there are

no terracotta balls within. There are traces of red paint. It measures14

centimeters in length and 8.7 centimeters in width.

E11-Xb- Made with orange clay. The mouth has a small hole. The lower face

is slightly

rounded. It is hollow, but there are no terracotta balls within. There

are several

chips on the lower part, and it was made with a well-worn mold. It

measures

14.4 centimeters in length and 7.6 centimeters in width.

11) Made with orange clay, this uterus is an irregular egg shape. The surface is

divided by a longitudinal cord from which depart four other small cords per

side, arranged asymmetrically. On the left side, above the cords, is a small

tablet of clay (perhaps applied separately) with a small cord below. There are

grooves along the neck. The mouth is rounded, with a distinct edge and a hole

33

at the center, meaning it has an open cervix. It is hollow, but there are no

terracotta balls within. The base is slightly raised. It was made with a well-

worn mold and the mouth is slightly fragmented. It measures 16.5 centimeters

in length and 9.6 centimeters in width. (E11-XI)

12) Made with orange clay, this uterus is an irregular egg shape. It rests on a small,

flat, flare foot. Along the center of the surface are four buttons from which

depart five deep grooves per side. The mouth is square, decorated on the edges

with light piercing., and has a closed cervix. There are no terracotta balls

within. It measures 6.7 centimeters in height and 8.8 centimeters in length.

(E11-XII)

Esquiline- urban deposit site (Gatti Lo Guzzo 1978).

5 uteri; no terracotta balls within. I would like to note that “blowhole” is the direct

translation of “sfiatatoio,” which Gatti Lo Guzzo inexplicably uses to refer to the

openings in the uterus votives where what we would today call the cervix is found.

1) Made with pinkish clay with a lot of black mica; lightly corroded, with a rough

“blowhole” at the base, meaning an open cervix. It measures 15 centimeters in

length. (5708)

2) Made with light red brick clay with a lot of black mica, with a round “blowhole”

at the base, meaning an open cervix. It measures 15 centimeters in length.

(5710)

3) Made with pinkish brown clay with a lot of black mica; it is deteriorated, with a

round blowhole at the base, meaning an open cervix. (5709)

4) Made with pinkish brown clay with a lot of black mica, it has traces of dark red

paint. The cervix is not open. It measures 15.3 centimeters in length. (2674)

5) Made with brown clay with a lot of black mica, it has a slight trace of red paint.

It measures 13 centimeters in length. (5707)

1 placenta

It is not immediately obvious that this is a placenta. Gatti Lo Guzzo gives no

explanation behind the reasoning, and it bears no resemblance whatsoever to the well-

published Roman placenta votive (ca.200 BCE-200CE) in the Science Museum’s

(London) collection, which clearly depicts the placenta with umbilical cord attached-

features neither visible nor identifiable on this votive from the Minerva Medica deposit

34

(sciencemuseum.org 2014). In my opinion, it bears marked similarities to terracotta

votives of open male torsos, dissected to show the viscera (often, including the heart,

intestines, lungs, and stomach) (Recke 2013, p.1069-1070). However, from the

photograph, it would appear that this votive was manufactured as a stand-alone, and did

not break off from a full torso votive, making it unique at the deposit at Minerva

Medica. It is worth mentioning, however, as placenta votives were created and

deposited, and this object perhaps reflects this practice taking place at this particular

site.

1) Made with light brown clay with a lot of black mica; corroded , with a hole at

the base. It measures 15 centimeters in length. (2673)

Female Genitalia

Punta della Vipera (Comella 2001).

1) Made from pinkish clay, a preserved fragment of an outer female genitalia

votive, showing the labia majora and divided by a deep furrow. No clitoris. It

measures 3.5 by 3.9 centimeters.

Tessennano (Costantini 1995).

1) Made with pinkish clay. It is triangular, and shows two horizontal grooves in

the upper part, with a central fissure and a clitoris. The back is flat, and the

bottom is integrated in plaster. There are traces of red paint. It measures 14.8

centimeters in length and 7.4 centimeters in width.

2) Made with pinkish clay. It is triangular with a central fissure at the lower part,

and a clitoris. The bottom is slightly concave. It measures 7.2 centimeters in

length and 7.8 centimeters in width.

Esquiline (Gatti Lo Guzzo 1978).

None.

35

CHAPTER FOUR –

Analysis of Female Anatomical Votive Practice and Socio-cultural Ideals of Female

Sexuality and Fertility in Etruria

Hellenistic Central Italy and Female Anatomical Votives

Looking at Hellenistic central Italy and social structure- especially as it shifted-

offers context to the trends in female anatomical votives and the first, broad level of

analysis. From the late fourth century BCE, conflict with encroaching Roman colonists

and powers brought typically Roman, and typically male, values of war and manhood to

Etruria. Previous to this time, Etruscan women enjoyed a comparably respected

position in society and were allowed comparable freedoms to Etruscan men: so much

so that the Greeks and Romans considered the Etruscans as a whole to be a scandalous

and barbaric society that mangled and made grotesque activities such as feasts and even

bathing customs. While claims of public orgies at feasts are almost certainly

exaggerated, details such as the fact that wives reclined alongside their husbands and

toasted anyone they pleased slip into Greek and Roman accounts and are considered

just as scandalous as the alleged orgies (Jolivet 2013, p. 160). These written accounts

contrast with the archaeological evidence, which suggests a cultural continuity and

stability throughout Roman colonization and very little perception of the Etruscans as

barbaric or any experience f culture shock as the Romans “conquered” Etruria.

Settlement patterns indicate a reuse of existing structures and cities; abandonment of

cities like Vulci was not the norm (Izzett 2007, p.125-126). Despite a overwhelmingly

calm negotiation of cultural changes across Etruria, as Roman colonization encroached,

it seems that women enjoyed their liberties less and less. By the second century BCE,

Etruscan women are frequently depicted in subordinate positions to men: rather than

being painted reclining next to their husbands, they now sit at their feet; while their urns

continue to depict them reclining atop their sarcophagi, they decreasingly are

represented holding symbols of banqueting such as kantharos and patera; and the

deeply Etruscan tradition of tracing matrilineal lines in funerary inscriptions all but

disappears (Jolivet 2013, p. 160).

As Roman influence re-shaped the social structure in Etruria, the cross-cultural

exchange resulted in the Romans adopting much of the Etruscan votive deposit

practices, while simultaneously adopting and changing it. Etruscans and Romans were

in constant contact with one another in conquered or colonized areas and cities. Their

36

contact can be attested to in rural healing cult sanctuaries from the third century, where

each culture deposited votives in alignment with their own customs- Etruscans

continued to deposit bareheaded votive heads and uteri with significant local trends in

design and shape, while Romans deposited veiled heads and uteri of similar shape but

with varying design details (Jolivet 2013, p.164). Roman ‘conquest’ did not create the

practice of anatomical votive offering, but contributed its own customs and practices

and created hybridized deposits, like the one seen at Tessennano (Glinister 2009b). The

prevalence of these offerings speaks to the importance of health concerns in the daily

lives of the depositors, male or female, Roman or Etruscan. The presence of female

anatomical votives in sanctuary deposits indicate not just the deity’s interest in feminine

health or other concerns, but also that women participated in the religious space and act

of votive offering. As discussed before, it is widely accepted that there is a general

correspondence between the gender of the worshipper who deposited and anatomical

votive, and the gender represented by the anatomical votive itself (Schultz 2006, p.115).

The presence of the female anatomical votives alone cannot tells us the degree to which

women participated in rites, and as Schultz (2006) notes, we cannot know from the

material evidence whether women were allowed to practice votive offerings at the same

time or in the same place as men (Schultz 2006, p. 115). The ubiquity of anatomical

votives across Hellenistic central Italy in myriad contexts (rural or urban, Etruscan or

Roman) also makes clear that at the individual level, depositors were comfortable and

more than willing to address their concerns with any and perhaps all deities, and

maintained this practice right up until the practice of depositing anatomical votives

simply stopped.

Who made the votives, and for whom?

Questions of who was making the anatomical votive deposits and what the state

of medical knowledge was and how it may have affected this practice have been

addressed in this study by looking to archaeological records for specific sites,

particularly those of the case study, and regional comparisons between practices.

Additionally, research into comparative Roman and Greek medical texts and gender

theory on female sexuality has offered insight into cultural and personal expectations of

and expressions of sexuality and gender.

It has often been argued that because anatomical votives were made from

terracotta and mass-produced, that this was purely a religious practice of the poor and

37

rural communities (Schultz 2006, p.100, Glinister 2009a, p. 118). The presence of

these votives, particularly the large deposits of female anatomical votives, in rural and

urban contexts, suggests that this assumption is incorrect. In Annamaria Comella’s

catalogue of Graviscae, a sanctuary in Tarquinii (Etruria) and one of the largest deposits

of uterus votive deposits yet excavated, she identified and created typologies of the over

three hundred uterus votives discovered (Comella 1978). Another large deposit at

Fontanile di Legnisina near the Etruscan city of Vulci was excavated and found to

contain about three hundred uterus votives as well (Ricciardi 1988). There are many

stylistic similarities between the uterus votive deposits across Etruria: the most popular

shapes for the uteri are the ovoid and almond shapes, which are also found in

abundance at Punta della Vipera, Tessennano, and Esquiline; however other shapes

including furrowed and pear shapes were also quite popular and all show site-specific

trends in styling and detailing (Comella 1978; Ricciardi 1988; Comella 2001;

Costantini1195; Gatti Lo Guzzo 1978). In Latium, female anatomical votives,

especially uteri, were also deposited but in fewer numbers, and in a smaller variety of

types, more often showing variances in details rather over-arching stylistic shapes and

types. These differences are clear at sites like Tessennano, which show great variance

in both shapes and details of the uteri votives, white Esquiline and Punta della Vipera

mostly contain one predominant shape of uterus (almond-shaped) and greater variance

in detailing on the surface of the votives. Several hundred uterus votives have been

found in the Tiber river in Rome, as well as five uteri and single placenta votives at

Esquiline, detailed further in the next chapter. At all of these sites, other anatomical

votives, and often terracotta heads and figurines, are also present. Interestingly, of 140

sites containing anatomical votive deposits in central Italy, eighty of them had uterus

votives, and the number of uterus votives found is now reaching into the thousands

(Turfa 2004). These were popular votives, and made a significant contribution to the

deposits across Etruria and Latium. The lack of correlation to specific deities and the

deposition of these female anatomical votives across Hellenistic central Italy continues

to impress that these votives were deposited by individuals who chose for themselves

which deity to offer these votives to based on their own needs and preferences (Turfa

2006, pp. 70-71). All of these votives are made of terracotta and were likely painted

before firing, though remains of the paint are uncommon (but not unheard of) in the

excavated deposits (Recke 2013, p.1071). However, there is no reason to believe that

terracotta was considered a worthless or low-end material, particularly because while

38

anatomical votives in bronze have been found, they are either uncommon or had been

removed for recycling of metal, and all female anatomical votives that have been found

are in terracotta. Regardless of where they were deposited, in rural or remote

sanctuaries or temples right in the middle of Rome or other large urban settlements,

whether in recently colonized settlements or in long-established cities, these female

anatomical votives are mold-made in terracotta and deposited indiscriminately to deities

in supplication or thanks. These female anatomical votives offer a glimpse at women’s

participation in religion across social strata.

The votive deposits across Hellenistic central Italy, in Etruria and Latium, are of

interest because they allow real consideration of the gender of the depositors who

frequented a particular site, and what the trends in votive shape and style might reflect

of the expression of sexuality and desire for the depositor’s own body- especially in

regard to pregnancy, fertility, and health (Wiman 2013, p. 12). Representations of the

uterus are consistently identifiable and unquestionably represent human uteri, as the

uteri of frequently sacrificed or slaughtered mammals such as cows, pigs, and sheep

have a “biconate” shape that is very different from the flat, pear, ovoid, or almond

shape seen in the uterus votives (and within the human female body) (Schultz 2006,

p.110).

A popularly selected practice seen across Etruscan sites, though not in Latium,

is the placing of small terracotta balls within the uterus votives. These terracotta balls

were found in five of the eighteen uteri at Tessennano, but not at all in the uteri at

Esquiline and Punta della Vipera. This speaks to two different assumptions made

within scholarly assessment of votive deposits: first, that the spreading popularity of

anatomical votives was tied to Roman colonization of Etruria, and second, to the

assumption that female anatomical votives represent a high degree of medical

understanding of the female body and reproduction. In regard to the former,

archaeological evidence gathered from across Hellenistic central Italy suggests that

anatomical votive deposition was an already existing practice in Etruria before the

advent of Roman colonization. As Schultz (2006) notes, before Roman colonization

and its associated cultural assimilation, the religious practice of votive offerings existed

as early as the late fifth or early fourth century and were filled with terracotta

anatomical votives as well as terracotta heads and figurines (Schultz 2006 p.11-12). If

terracotta anatomical votives were purely the concern rural populations, surely one

would expect a swell in urban anatomical votive deposits and a decline in rural and

39

hinterland sites as rural populations were displaced and moved into urban sites as

Roman colonization spread. However, as Romans spread into Etruscan spaces and

began to absorb the Etruscan population, they also adopted the practice of anatomical

votives and seemed to embrace the practice in full, including the ambiguous deity

connotations, and most especially the cult activity was adopted in colonies (Schultz

2006, p.100; Glinister 2006, p.99). Similarly, instead of seeing the practice slowly shift

to urban sites and eventually die out as rural native populations were displaced into

cities, it has instead been shown that anatomical votive depositing and religious

practices died out at approximately the same period of time in Italy, during the first

century BCE. This is most likely a side effect of a period of massive cultural upheaval

in central Italy, rather than a governing body outlawing or intentionally stamping out

the practice (Schultz 2006, p. 100; Jolivet 2013, p.160). At the same time that the

practice of depositing anatomical votives rather suddenly stopped, a massive phase of

roman colonization was taking place following the second Punic War; as Rome

extended its rule over central Italy it was also stretching over the eastern Mediterranean.

There is no doubt that already well-developed Etruscan road network was being used

and expanded to help move people and trade throughout central Italy and beyond,

heralding cross-cultural contact, trade, and connectivity that resulted in a high degree of

cultural diffusion and change in Etruria as well as the rest of the Roman Republic

(Jolivet 2013, pp.156-157).

In regard to the latter assumption, that the uterus votives with small terracotta

balls placed inside reflect a high degree of sophisticated medical and reproductive

knowledge in Etruria, it is hard to formulate an argument against this. Emma-Jayne

Graham argues that the lack of explicit representation of a fetus makes this assumption

incorrect, stating, “The exclusion of any visible reference to an autonomous

embryo/fetus is testimony to the presence of a conceptual distinction between the need

to seek protection for the physical capabilities of the mother and for what was formed in

her womb” (Graham 2013, p.222). While these votives are absolutely tied to the

cultural expectations for an expecting mother or young woman of age to conceive

children, the health of the mother and of the fetus is intricately tied. These votives are

not totally unrelated to the health of the fetus, but rather, that the fact that female

anatomical votives of all types (not just uteri) are often found deposited at the same

healing sanctuaries, indicates that the Etruscans understood the relationship between the

health of the mother and of the fetus forming within the uterus, as represented by the

40

clay balls within the uterus votives. The Etruscans most definitely understood that the

fetus formed in the womb and that childbirth affected both the infant and the mother;

scenes of a seated or crouched childbirth abound on Etruscan objects. An image of a

crouched woman with a long braid and an infant just emerging beneath her can be

found on a fragmentary bucchero vase from Poggio Colla; scenes of the birth of deities

such as Dionysos and Menerva engraved on mirrors- despite the fact that Menerva was

in fact birthed from her father Zeus’s head, he is crouched in a birthing position and

attended by goddesses Thaina and Thanir acting as midwives (Turfa and Becker 2013,

p.861). This is notable because this position is one of the healthiest for both the mother

and the child, and works to ensure a safe delivery for both parties because the position

helps the uterus dilate, and gravity assists the infant exit the womb (whattoexpect.com

2014).

Further, the Etruscans are often noted by contemporary Greek and Roman

writers for not practicing infanticide; instead raising all children regardless of whether

the identity of the father was known or assured (because Greek and Roman texts on

Etruscans are inherently biased, I am cautious of this and use it only as anecdotal

evidence, not as a verifiable fact of an aspect of Etruscan culture). The Etruscans’

proclivity for anatomical votives of all types, including internal organs, shows that as a

culture, Etruscans had great ability to abstract medical observations and render them

useful in their religious practices (Cherici 2013, p.692).

Further to this point, contemporary medical knowledge of female health and

human reproduction often left the female’s concerns to women. As discussed in the

chapter one, in even the most respected medical texts, cures and treatments for all

manner of female health concerns were attributed to women, even if fictional. If male

doctors knew so little about female health from their own practice and study and

generally regarded females as the authority on their own anatomy in the medical sense,

then surely this attitude would carry over to the private religious rituals and practice of

individuals. Further, there is very little evidence in Etruria that Greek doctors, nor any

doctors, were esteemed or widely available, nor that they traveled to rural regions

where many votive deposits have been found (Schultz 2006, p.100). Medical

knowledge at the time that shaped the formation of the female anatomical models and

the behaviors of the women depositing them was probably not from trained or educated

doctors, but from local women practicing healing and assisting with births. This is

discussed in more detail in chapter four, in the analysis of specific female anatomical

41

votives and trends observed in the three sites of the case study: Tessennano, Punta

della Vipera, and Esquiline.

Medical knowledge of female health and reproductive organs

As discussed in chapter one, these female anatomical votives show remarkable

knowledge of the uterus and its function in reproduction. The uteri from the case

studies exhibit knowledge of the structure and shape of a human uterus, as well as its

reproductive function. The differences in number of striations, ‘buttons,’ and other

features are reflective of aesthetic trends and choices, and possibly of specific ailments

these women are asking the deity to treat or cure, as suggested by Matthias Recke

(2013) among many others. For example, the buttons on the surface of the uterus

votive may be representative of uterine malformations or fibroid tumors, and the

depositor is requesting a cure from a deity (Turfa and Becker 2013, p.867). The

differences in shape, e.g. almond- or egg-shaped, reflect cultural trends in the

production of these trends, which differ by locality and reflect less on anatomical

knowledge and more on cultural interaction and trends in production. However, the

question of what the state of medical knowledge was in Etruria, and who had access to

it still hangs. More specifically, the question of what the women of Etruria knew about

their own bodies, and whether access to this knowledge differed across social classes

remains to be investigated.

As noted earlier, the lack of any extant Etruscan medical writing necessitates

looking to contemporaneous Greek and Roman views on the female body in medicine.

Differences beyond sexual organs between the two sexes were strongly believed to

exist, and shaped the idea of causes of ailments and possible treatments. According to

Hippocrates, the female body differs from the male body because it is “loose and

spongy” and absorbed much more moisture as a result (Flemming 2000, p.116).

Aretaeus echoed this, describing women as colder and wetter than men (Flemming

2000, p.214). It was believed that the female body was characterized by instability,

which was exacerbated by lifestyle and also naturally occurring points in the life cycle

of an individual woman (Flemming 2000, pp. 222-223). The instability is inherent in

the woman’s body because it is a result of their reproductive organs need for moisture.

Issues relating to the reproductive organs arise at puberty, and much time is

spent in Galen’s (second century CE) texts discussing how to deal with pubescent girls’

health. The relationship between those caring for and controlling the girls and the

42

problematic bodies of these girls is established- any sort of autonomy a pubescent girl

may have over her own body is either ignored, or simply did not exist culturally

(Flemming 2000, p. 221). This is to say that the concern is less with the health or

personal concerns of a young girl, but instead with controlling the changes and process

so that the girl might pass through puberty at the ‘proper time of nature’ so that she

would be able to marry, reproduce, and survive childbirth (Flemming 2000, p.221).

The uterus itself and its inflictions, in fact, are almost never mentioned in these texts.

Instead, two major symptoms are addressed: retention of seed, and menstrual fluid as

blood vessels affecting the womb. Retention of seed was believed to be a result of

sustained sexual abstinence after having a sexual past, and a result of the uterus

becoming too dense and “hard” because it lacked nourishment (Flemming 2000, p.337).

Menstrual fluid, if it were too thick, or too narrow blood vessels leading to the uterus-

could likewise cause a “hardness” of the womb and indicated it was too arid (Flemming

2000, p.337). In sum, the womb itself became ill because of its constant need for

moisture and acted as a “barometer of female health”, but was never the cause of any

health issue (Flemming 2000, p.337). According to Antyllus (second century CE),

treatments for ailments of the uterus involved applying salves to the uterus itself to

provoke menses or expel and embryo, and treat issues of menstruation or fertility

(Flemming 2000, pp.219-220). Better than treating issues once they arrived was to take

regular action to keep the uterus healthy. It was believed that the only way to

counteract the inherent instability of the female body was through ‘regimen’ once the

woman was married- which is to say, through regular sexual intercourse (Flemming

2000 p.223).

Pregnancy was believed to be the great cure-all for female reproductive health

issues. It reportedly solved issues resulting from retention of excess moisture and

restored menstrual regularity, and therefore from the time of Hippocrates to Galen

women were encouraged to sleep with their husbands as treatment for their uterine

ailments or problems. Essentially, it was the belief that if a woman was able to become

pregnant, she was healthy (Flemming 2000, p.117). Regular intercourse was also

considered a safeguard against a wandering womb, which was the cause of any number

of afflictions virtually anywhere in the body due to it leaving it’s proper place in the

abdomen in search of moisture elsewhere, and interfering with the functioning of other,

more stable organs). It was believed that intercourse between a male and a female kept

43

“the womb wet enough to prevent it moving elsewhere in the body” (Flemming 2000,

p.117)

In Hippocrates’ (fifth to fourth centuries BCE) and Aretaeus’ (likely first

century CE) texts, uterine suffocation was a separate affliction from your standard

wandering womb. Aretaeus proposed that the uterus had unique abilities of movement

(Flemming 2000, p.214). Like the wandering womb, uterine suffocation was caused

by a drying uterus seeking moisture elsewhere in the body. Uterine suffocation is the

result of “sustained upward movement” of the womb, and causes fits similar to epilepsy

as well as actual suffocation of the woman (Flemming 2000, p.174). Aretaeus wrote,

“it is more common in young women who are more flighty than their older, steadier

sisters, and hence have wombs more prone to ‘wandering’ (Flemming 2000, pp.211-

212). The opposite of this, when the womb wanders downwards, ultimately results in

uterine prolapse. Aretaeus hints that “female flux” is a result of a wandering womb,

and is characterized by an irregular flow of material from the uterus that varies in

volume, color, and consistency (Flemming 2000 p. 212). In all, health issues anywhere

in the female body could be, and often were, attributed to a uterus that had left its

proper place and wrecking havoc on regular bodily functions.

Puberty was the signifier of a time when a woman’s reproductive health became

a concern. What was the understanding of human reproduction, and a woman’s role in

it? A number of interesting theories on what drove sexual desire and fertilization

included a concept of female and male “seed.” Aretaeus proposed that the more excess

moisture in a woman, the more lustful she was, because the female seed expelled in

sexual intercourse brings balance (Flemming 2000, p.214). However, because women

are unable to become pregnant with just their own seed, Aretaeus proposed that male

seed was “living” and therefore essential to creating life in utero (Flemming 2000,

p.214). The more living seed a body contained, the more male they were, leaving

eunuchs so little “male” that Aretaeus considered them “non men”- so what are women,

who contain no living seed, but rather a different seed that seems only to function

physiologically to encourage lust and erotic pleasure? Flemming proposes that the

implication is that female seed is less “vital” than male seed, and does not serve a

generative function (Flemming 2000, pp.214-215).

Aretaeus suppositions of male and female seed generally echoed Rufus of

Ephesus’ (first century CE) theories. Rufus posited pieces of evidence that both women

and men have seed. First, he claims that because women experience the same sexual

44

desire as men, they must have seed, as seed is responsible for physiologically creating

this desire. Of course, no attempt and qualifying this connection between seed and

erotic desire is made, it is assumed to be obvious. Essentially, he argues that because

women experience sexual desire, they must have seed. He further elucidates that sexual

desire is really the body’s expressing a need for the expulsion of seed- the marker of an

excessively moist womb. This, of course, can only naturally occur with sexual

intercourse. Rufus, however, differed from Aretaeus in regards to functionality of

female seed. Rufus observed that children often resemble both their mothers and their

fathers. This, to Rufus, was indicative not only of the existence of female seed, but also

its active role in producing offspring (Flemming 2000, pp.203-205). Rufus of Ephesus

went on to explore fetal formation. He described it as “a process analogous to the

pouring of molten lead into a mold” (Flemming 2000, p.205). The “mold”

acknowledging the role of female seed in producing offspring, while the “molten lead”

representing the role of male seed in providing the bulk of material that produced the

fetus. However, the existential nature of a fetus and its status as both part of the

mother, and a distinct being, was controversial and contested. While some medical

writers (e.g., Rufus of Ephesus) thought it was a living, moving creature and classed it

as an animal alongside humans, others (e.g., Asclepiades of Bithynia, second century

BCE) thought the fetus was like a “sleeping animal” because it had capabilities of

independent life but did not exercise these until birth (Flemming 2000, p.205).

Medical knowledge reflected in votive practices

The Greeks and Romans knew a lot about female reproductive health, though

their ideas of causes and effects, treatments, and the actual biological mechanics of

human reproduction are revealed to be quite off-mark by modern advances in medicine

and biology. We can presume that at least some of this knowledge reached central Italy

(especially Roman ideas on medicine) along with many other objects and cultural

customs during this period of intense socio-cultural exchange. But as discussed

earlier, it is unlikely that the average woman would ever see a doctor when giving birth

or even for her usual afflictions; midwives, obstetrics, and healers would be the type of

caregiver available, and the degree to which they were literate or learned in Roman and

Greek medical texts is something we can not know from the archaeological record.

What we can see is reflections of this knowledge in the terracotta female anatomical

votives- their construction, their details, how and where they were deposited. The

45

actual practice of healing at these sanctuaries where the female anatomical votives were

deposited is unlikely; they are small and ill-equipped spaces for treating unwell people

(Turfa 2006; Glinister 2009a).

Putting these votives in the context of Roman colonization of central Italy, the

role of women in producing healthy offspring becomes more pronounced and essential.

Fay Glinister points out that in those occasions where colonization and settlement is

occurring in remote or rural areas, the importance of women increases because they are

solely capable of producing children to increase community population (Glinister

2009a, p. 120). An increased focus on the health of women’s reproductive organs, and

requests to deities for healing or fertility, would increase as a result of this more

prominent role in the community. In the fourth and third centuries BCE, the Roman

state began allowing marriages called conumbium between people of different status-

citizens with allies, for example, in recently colonized Etruria (Glinister 2009a, p.121).

These marriages were central to shifting social structures in Etruria, and created mixed

communities with allegiances naturally tied to Rome through the progeny of these

mixed marriages. The Roman state recognized how important these marriages were,

and would either allow conubium or take it away as reward or punishment for colonial

communities in the fourth and third centuries BCE (Glinister 2009a, p.121). Glinister

notes that in practice, this was probably largely ignored- whether marriage was lawful

or not has historically never stopped humans from having sex and producing offspring.

Likewise, whether married or not, the fertility and reproductive health of a woman is

always of concern. As the medical texts reviewed earlier noted, from the moment a girl

reaches puberty, the health of the womb is of huge importance to the health of the entire

female body- before, during, and after marriage.

Women’s role in religion and society directly in relation to female anatomical

votive practice can be sketched from the archaeological evidence. In Hellenistic central

Italy, freeborn, married women acted as priestesses, while lower-status women acted as

cult officials called magistrate (Glinister 2009a, p.121). Later in history, inscriptions

reveal female benefactors founding temples or financially supporting religious

figureheads (Glinister 2009a, p.121). At colonies such as Cosa, outside Vulci (in the

vicinity of the Tessennano case study deposit), inscriptions on anatomical votives

indicate female patrons, indicating not only female participation in ritual activity, but

also that this was an important activity in colonial contexts. The overwhelming

evidence of sanctuaries in colonial sites of Hellenistic central Italy indicates that

46

women held religious roles from the fourth century BCE onwards. Sanctuaries were

public places wherein female participation was frequent and on occasion, appointed.

Social hierarchies were reflected in the positions women held and acted in the public

sanctuaries. In a votive deposit at Vignale-Tempio Maggiore, a presumed healing

sanctuary near Falerii, there are outer female genitalia votives that depict the anatomy

of elderly women, which Comella (1986) contests is representative of women’s status

(Turfa and Becker 2013, p.862). The importance of female health, especially in

ensuring procreation in these colonies to either ensure social assimilation and

intermarriage or to increase population size in rural or hinterland colonies, is evidenced

by the increased importance of women in society and the popularity of female

anatomical votives in these sites (Glinister 2009a, p.122). The importance of female

anatomical votive practice in these colonial contexts goes beyond merely ensuring

fertility; the cultural exchange occurring in sanctuaries, including adoption of votive

shapes and styles, ultimately contributed towards creating a shared identity. As Roman

colonizers were assimilated into Etruscan communities, the social and ideological

changes in attitudes and expectations of women were reflected in anatomical votive

practice. Social and political influence on the ideology of female position in society,

especially as key to the process of procreating and increasing population size in

colonies, is apparent in the activities of women and their votive deposits in these

sanctuaries.

At Esquiline and Punta della Vipera, the steady choice in votive shape but

variances in details point to a more Roman influence- perhaps not surprising at Esquline

which was indeed in Rome, but of interest at Punta della Vipera located geographically

in an area where, historically, Etruscans clashed with Roman efforts of colonization (or

“conquering”). The enormous variety in uterus votive shape and size at Tessennano

likely reflects a very mixed population, which makes sense as it was geographically

near the Etruscan city of Vulci and the Roman colony of Cosa. The presence of

terracotta balls within some uteri hints that perhaps there was a greater importance

placed on fertility here; it is possible that here especially, it was important for women of

all social strata to reproduce in order to create a culture cohesively combined by

children that were the result of “mixed” parentage (i.e., Roman and Etruscan).

47

CHAPTER FIVE –

Conclusion & Where Do We Go From Here?

In this study, I aimed to positively identify the female anatomical votives as

anatomically correct, based on what knowledge the producers and depositors could

have had about the female reproductive system in Hellenistic central Italy. I believe

that these female anatomical votives were intentionally biologically accurate to serve

their purpose as votive offerings in the context of sanctuaries, particularly healing

sanctuaries, in supplication to deities for acts of healing, curing, or in aide of fertility.

These votives offer a glimpse at the social cultural attitudes and expectations of

women and their sexuality, especially in relation to fertility and childbirth. The

increasing usage of uterus votives in sites and sanctuaries across Hellenistic central

Italy during a period of intense cultural change as Romans colonized Etruria speaks to a

shift in women’s position in society. Women’s sexuality and health was of increasing

importance in Hellenistic central Italy due to the changing fabric of society. As mixed

Roman and Etruscan couples produced offspring, these children served to glue together

a culturally diverse community and provide potential political gains as Rome granted

(or denied) citizenship in these colonized settlements and communities. The

importance of women’s fertility was likely even more pronounced in rural or hinterland

settlements, colonies, and communities, because these children also served to increase

the population of a community. Women’s own concerns over their reproductive health

and its effects on the rest of their body became social and cultural concerns, too: social

and cultural expectations of fertility and childrearing are tied to the bodily health of any

individual woman, and the increase in anatomical votive deposits reflects this

heightened concern.

I had greatly desired to make an analysis of the female genital votives and their

relation to female sexuality and pleasure; I found it interesting that only some votives

had representations of the clitoris. However, research into sexuality in Etruria was

difficult to come by, with much of the material gleaned from hotly contested second-

hand accounts from Greeks and Romans. Further, there is scant published material on

female genital votives, even in catalogues, making any quantitative or qualitative

analysis difficult and ultimately, meaningless as contextualization of these votives was

almost impossible. Their function remains a mystery, for now.

48

In order to make further assessment of female anatomical votives and their

socio-cultural significance, better efforts at cataloging must be made. A standardization

of terminology and typology would help immensely in identifying depositional and

stylistic patterns across the geographical landscape of the Italic peninsula. I would

suggest working with Comella’s fantastic typology, and apply it to current and future

catalogues of female anatomical votives. Consistency in measurements also needs to be

addressed: three-dimensional measurements should be taken of the three-dimensional

objects, volume of the hollow uteri should be assessed, and weight of these votives

should be measured.

A final question I would love for future scholarship to address is the terracotta

balls sometimes found within the uteri. I wonder whether these terracotta balls are

somehow attached to the inside of the uterus, or if they are freely moving in the womb.

If they are not attached and can in fact move within the hollow space of the uterus

votive, do they make noise? If they can produce sound, could this noise have been

significant to their use in votive offerings and deposition practices?

49

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