Lead Curse Tablets

What were 

lead curse tablets ?

Lead curse tablets, also known as curse tablets or by their ancient names defixiones (Latin, meaning something like “things nailed down” or “pierced”) and katadesmoi (Greek, meaning “bindings”), were a form of magical or supernatural practice in the ancient Greco-Roman world.

They consisted of small, thin sheets of lead (sometimes alloyed with tin or occasionally other materials like pewter) — typically about the size of a playing card or business card — onto which people scratched curses or invocations using a stylus. The text was usually in tiny letters, often in Greek, Latin, or local languages.

Purpose and How They Worked

People created these tablets to ask gods, underworld spirits, the dead, or chthonic (underworld) deities to intervene and harm, bind, or compel a specific person (or group) against their will. Common targets included:

•  Rivals in love or business

•  Legal opponents (e.g., cursing witnesses or adversaries in court cases)

•  Thieves (very common in Roman Britain, where many tablets curse people who stole clothing or money)

•  Competitors in sports/chariot races

•  Enemies in general

The curses often used formulaic language like “I bind,” “I pierce,” or “I hand over” the target to supernatural forces, sometimes listing body parts, actions, or words to restrain (e.g., “may their tongue be bound” or “may they fail in court”).

To activate the curse, the tablet was typically:

•  Rolled or folded up

•  Often pierced with nails

•  Then deposited in a liminal or underworld-connected place, such as:

•  Graves or tombs

•  Wells or sacred springs

•  Temple precincts

•  Underground sanctuaries

This placement symbolically “sent” the curse to the underworld powers.

Historical Context

•  They appear from at least the late 6th century BCE in the Greek world (earliest examples from places like Sicily and Athens).

•  They continued through the Roman period (and even into late antiquity or beyond in some regions).

•  Thousands have been found across the Mediterranean and Roman provinces, including famous groups from:

•  The sacred spring at Bath (Roman Aquae Sulis) in Britain — mostly theft-related curses

•  Athens

•  Carthage

•  Recent finds in places like Orléans (Gaulish examples)

Lead was chosen because it was cheap, soft and easy to inscribe/fold, and symbolically associated with the cold, heavy, inert qualities of the underworld.

The curse tablets from Bath (ancient Roman Aquae Sulis) are one of the most famous and largest collections of ancient curse tablets (defixiones) ever discovered. About 130 of them were unearthed during excavations in 1979–1980 in the sacred hot spring (the reservoir) of the Roman Baths complex in modern-day Bath, Somerset, England. They date mainly from the 2nd to 4th centuries CE.

These tablets are unique compared to many other curse tablets from the Greco-Roman world because almost all of them are “prayers for justice” rather than aggressive binding spells for love, court cases, or sports. They were personal pleas to the goddess Sulis Minerva (a syncretic deity combining the local Celtic goddess Sulis of the healing springs with the Roman Minerva) to punish thieves and recover stolen property — usually items left in the bathhouse changing rooms (apodyterium), like clothing, money, or accessories. Bathing thefts were apparently very common!

Key Features

•  Material and Method: Thin sheets of lead (or lead-alloy/pewter), inscribed with a stylus in tiny, often cursive Latin script (some show British Latin vernacular influences). The tablets were typically folded or rolled up (sometimes pierced with nails), then thrown into the sacred spring as an offering to Sulis.

•  Typical Formula: They hand over the thief to the goddess, asking her to afflict them (e.g., deny sleep, health, or life) until the stolen goods are returned to the temple. Common phrases include:

•  “Whether man or woman, whether slave or free” (to cover all possibilities)

•  Invoking punishment like “may they have no sleep” or “may the goddess inflict death”

•  Language Insight: The texts provide rare evidence of everyday spoken Latin in Roman Britain, including local spellings and grammar quirks.

Famous Examples

Here are a few well-known translated excerpts (based on scholarly editions like those by R.S.O. Tomlin in the Tabellae Sulis corpus):

Docilianus’ hooded cloak (one of the most cited):
“Docilianus, son of Brucerus, to the most holy goddess Sulis: I curse the one who has stolen my hooded cloak, whether man or woman, whether enslaved or free, that…the goddess Sulis inflict death upon them…and not allow them sleep or children now and in the future, until they have brought my hooded cloak to the temple of her divinity.”

Solinus’ tunic and cloak:
“Solinus to the goddess Sulis Minerva. I give to your divinity and majesty [my] bathing tunic and cloak. Do not allow sleep or health to him who has done me wrong, whether man or woman or whether slave or free unless he reveals himself and brings those goods to your temple.”

The ‘Vilbia’ theft (unusual — possibly a person rather than an object):
“May he who carried off Vilbia from me become as liquid as water…” (Written in reverse letters for added magical potency; Vilbia might have been a woman “stolen” in a romantic or ownership sense.)

Gloves theft (Docimedis):
A simple curse against whoever stole his gloves while he was bathing.

These give a vivid picture of ordinary Romano-Britons — bathers frustrated by petty crime — turning to divine justice when human authorities couldn’t help.

Where to See Them

Many are displayed at the Roman Baths Museum in Bath itself (the main site where they were found). Others are in collections like the British Museum. They offer incredible insight into daily life, superstition, literacy, and religion in Roman Britain.

If you’d like more specific translations, details on a particular tablet, or info about visiting the site in London (or nearby Bath), just ask!

These tablets provide fascinating glimpses into everyday ancient concerns — jealousy, justice, theft, competition — and show how ordinary people used supernatural means to address problems when official channels failed.

https://www.romanbaths.co.uk/

The origins of St Valentines Day

 The origins of Valentines Day

The origins of Valentine’s Day trace back through layers of ancient traditions, Christian martyrdom, medieval poetry, and evolving cultural customs, rather than a single straightforward event. While popularly linked to ancient Roman fertility rites and a heroic saint, modern scholarship shows the romantic holiday we recognise today emerged much later

One of the most frequently cited ancient influences is the Roman festival of Lupercalia, celebrated around February 15 (with festivities spanning February 13–15) as early as the 6th century BCE. 

This was a purification and fertility ritual dedicated to Faunus (the god of agriculture and the wild) and honouring the mythological she-wolf who nursed Romulus and Remus, Rome’s legendary founders. The rites included dramatic and visceral elements: priests (Luperci) sacrificed a goat and sometimes a dog, smeared blood on their foreheads, then ran nearly naked through the streets whipping women with thongs made from the animal hides. The act was believed to promote fertility, ward off evil, and ensure purification. Some accounts describe a matchmaking lottery where men drew women’s names to pair off for the festival period or longer. These practices were rowdy, public, and tied to spring’s arrival and renewal.

As Christianity spread through the Roman Empire, church leaders sought to replace pagan observances with Christian ones. In 496 CE, Pope Gelasius I condemned Lupercalia and removed it from the calendar. He established February 14 as the feast day of Saint Valentine (or Valentinus), though evidence does not clearly indicate this was a deliberate replacement for Lupercalia’s fertility themes. The timing may have been coincidental, as the Lupercalia festival had already begun declining by the late 5th century. The direct link between the two is now considered a later speculation by 18th- and 19th-century scholars rather than a well-documented historical fact.

Who was Saint Valentine? Historical records are sparse and contradictory, with at least two or three martyrs named Valentine associated with February 14. The most common legend centers on a 3rd-century priest (or possibly bishop) executed around 269–270 CE under Emperor Claudius II Gothicus. One popular story claims he secretly married Christian couples despite an imperial ban on soldiers marrying (to keep them focused on battle), and another says he restored sight to his jailer’s blind daughter, sending her a farewell note signed “from your Valentine.” These romantic embellishments appeared centuries later; early accounts focus simply on his martyrdom for aiding persecuted Christians. The Catholic Church eventually removed Valentine’s Day from its general calendar in 1969 due to the uncertain historical details, though he is still commemorated in some traditions.

The transformation into a celebration of romantic love occurred in the Middle Ages, far removed from Roman rites or early martyrdom stories. In 14th-century England, Geoffrey Chaucer first explicitly connected February 14 to romance in his poem The Parliament of Fowls (c. 1382), describing birds choosing mates on “Seynt Valentynes day.” This tied into medieval beliefs that birds began pairing in mid-February, symbolising the start of spring and courtship. Courtly love traditions flourished, with “valentines” referring to lovers or sweethearts. By the 15th century, the custom of drawing names to select a “valentine” for the year emerged in England and France, often involving gifts or duties like paying for expenses.

Printed valentines appeared in the 18th and 19th centuries, evolving into mass-produced cards in the Victorian era, especially after advances in printing and postal systems. Commercialism accelerated in the 20th century, turning the day into a global occasion for flowers, chocolates, jewellery , and expressions of affection.

In summary, Valentine’s Day has no single origin but represents a fascinating blend of elements: ancient Roman fertility customs (with debatable direct influence), Christian commemoration of martyrdom, and medieval European literary and folk traditions that shifted the focus to romantic love. What began with animal sacrifice and purification rites has become a worldwide symbol of affection, demonstrating how holidays adapt and accumulate new meanings over centuries.

The Familiar

 Whispers from the Shadows: The Eternal Bond of Witch and Familiar

In the veiled mists of ancient lore, where the veil between worlds thins to a gossamer thread, there dwells the enigmatic figure of the witch’s familiar. These spectral companions, born of starlit pacts and whispered incantations, have danced through the annals of human imagination as guardians, tricksters, and harbingers of arcane power. 

Not mere pets, but extensions of the soul—shapeshifters cloaked in fur, feather, or scale—they embody the profound mystery of the unseen realms. To gaze upon a familiar is to peer into the abyss of magic itself, where the mortal and the ethereal entwine in an eternal embrace. From the flickering hearths of medieval Europe to the shadowed groves of forgotten shamans, their story unfolds like a spell cast upon the winds of time.

My own familiar, Mystery

What animals make good familiars today?

The common familiar is of course a cat, in particular a black cat ( yeah we know- stereotypes but who cares! My familiar is a black cat and she is simply amazing!) but you could choose a dog, magpie, crow, weasel, rat , mouse or whatever you feel resonates most .

The origins of the familiar stretch back into the dim corridors of history, predating the flames of the witch hunts that would later demonise them. In the arcane texts of antiquity, such as the Picatrix—a Latin translation of an Arabic grimoire—familiars emerge as benevolent spirit guides, akin to guardian angels bestowed upon the wise. 

 Here, figures like Caraphzebiz are noted as early recipients of these ethereal allies, serving as intermediaries between the human practitioner and the cosmic forces.  In shamanic traditions across cultures, from the indigenous peoples of the Americas to the cunning folk of pre-Christian Europe, animal spirits were invoked not as servants of darkness, but as allies in divination, healing, and spiritual insight.  

These beings, often manifesting as totems or power animals, lent their essence to the mage, granting visions from the wild heart of nature. Imagine a raven perched upon a druid’s shoulder, its obsidian eyes reflecting the secrets of the Otherworld, or a fox slinking through the underbrush, carrying messages from the gods themselves. Such was the primordial harmony, a mystical symbiosis where the familiar amplified the witch’s innate gifts, protecting her as she navigated the labyrinth of fate.

Yet, as the shadows of the Middle Ages deepened, the familiar’s image twisted under the weight of religious fervor and societal paranoia. The witch panics of the 15th to 17th centuries, fueled by edicts like James I’s 1604 Witchcraft Act, recast these once-benign entities as diabolical imps—low-ranking demons gifted by the Devil to aid in maleficium.   

In England, where the hunts burned brightest, familiars were deemed proof of infernal allegiance. Accused witches like Agnes Waterhouse, executed in 1566, confessed to harboring a cat named Satan, inherited from her sister and fed on drops of her own blood through peculiar “teats” or marks upon her body.   These marks, scoured for by inquisitors, were seen as unholy nipples sustaining the imp’s vitality, a grotesque fusion of nurture and nightmare.  

Folklore brimmed with tales of these shape-shifters: toads croaking curses in moonlit bogs, black dogs prowling crossroads as omens of doom, or even butterflies fluttering with malevolent intent.  In the Salem trials of 1692, Puritan interrogators probed for evidence of such spirits, viewing them as conduits to Satan, capable of assuming humanoid forms to tempt or torment.  One can envision the chilling scene: a lone witch in her cottage, her familiar—a sleek ferret or watchful owl—whispering forbidden knowledge, its eyes glowing with otherworldly fire, as the villagers’ torches approached.

How to find your familiar 

Your familiar will find you!!

When the  time right for your familiar you will know, it’s something you will sense deep down. 

Across cultures, the familiar’s folklore weaves a tapestry of wonder and dread. In European fairytales, as collected by the Brothers Grimm, motifs of animal helpers recur, echoing ancient beliefs in spirit pacts.  

The black cat, emblem of mystery and independence, became the archetype, its nine lives symbolising resilience amid persecution.  Yet, not all were feline; rabbits, dogs, and insects too served as vessels for demonic or divine energies.  In some accounts, familiars were inherited, passed down bloodlines like heirlooms of power, while others were summoned through rituals, emerging from the ether to forge an unbreakable bond.  

Their dual nature—benevolent to cunning folk, malevolent to the accused—mirrors the ambiguity of magic itself.  In Liverpool’s tales, spirits like those owned by Margaret Ley manifested as imps, stirring mischief or offering protection in a world hostile to the arcane see.  Even in the New World, echoes of Old World fears persisted, where a simple pet could seal one’s fate as a sorceress. 

How do I work with my familiar?

Firstly you should ask them quietly and respectfully to whisper to you their name. Then use that name . To make a full connection with them and draw them into your working area create a simple ritual including a circle as usual . Stand in your circle by your altar and quietly and respectfully ask the familiar if they would enter your circle . If they refuse they are either not ready or do not want to be part of your work as a familiar. If they do enter and show interest then you are now bonded for life ! Love them, care and protect them and they will do the same for you.

The roots of these spirit familiars delve deep into the primordial soil of human spirituality, predating the structured rites of organised religion. In Siberian shamanism, the cradle of many shamanic practices, the familiar often appears as the ayami—a bird-like spirit-wife who chooses the shaman, granting him assistant spirits to aid in healing and divination.  

This avian ally, sometimes manifesting as a wolf or winged tiger, teaches the initiate to navigate the spirit worlds, her form a symbol of transformation and fierce protection.  The shaman’s bond with such entities is forged in ecstatic visions, where the familiar reveals itself during soul flights, mending the fragmented self and guarding against malevolent forces.  

Unlike the demonic imps of European witch lore, these shamanic familiars are extensions of the natural order, allies summoned from the animistic web where every rock, river, and beast pulses with spirit.

Venture further into the lore of Indigenous North American traditions, and the familiar transforms into the power animal—a spiritual guardian that emerges during vision quests or rites of passage.   For the Lakota or Navajo shaman, a bear might lend its strength for healing, or a raven its cunning for prophecy, appearing in dreams or trances to impart wisdom.  These beings are not bound by physical form; they traverse the astral realms, serving as thought-forms or ethereal guides that protect the practitioner from psychic assaults.  

In African shamanic paths, such as those of the Sangoma in Zulu culture, animal spirits like the leopard or elephant embody ancestral power, aiding in divination through bone-throwing or trance dances.  Similarly, in Amazonian ayahuasca ceremonies, jaguars or anacondas slither into visions as familiars, revealing hidden truths and facilitating soul retrieval.  These cross-cultural echoes reveal a universal truth: the familiar is a mirror of the shaman’s inner wilderness, a symbiotic force amplifying their ability to heal, foresee, and commune with the divine.

Yet, distinctions weave through this tapestry, separating familiars from totems and transient spirit animals. Totems, often clan or personal emblems, symbolise enduring traits and cultural connections, like the eagle totem of many Native tribes representing vision and freedom.   

In contrast, shamanic familiars are dynamic partners, lifelong or quest-specific allies that actively intervene in rituals.  Spirit animals may appear fleetingly, offering momentary guidance, while familiars forge deeper pacts, sometimes inherited or summoned through shamanic initiation.   

In folklore, these bonds are sealed in altered states—drumming, chanting, or plant medicines—where the shaman merges with the animal’s essence, shapeshifting to traverse realms unseen.  The familiar’s power stems from this union, drawing on the shaman’s life force, much like the witch’s sexual energy in global magical traditions.

In  their presence, one senses the pulse of forbidden wisdom, the familiar’s gaze inviting us to question the boundaries of reality.

The mystical essence of the familiar lies in this profound connection—a soul-deep alliance that transcends the corporeal. They are not slaves, but mirrors of the witch’s inner world, amplifying her spells with their innate magic, whether for healing herbs or hexing foes.  In modern echoes, within the circles of Wicca and neopaganism, familiars reclaim their guardian role, chosen through intuition rather than infernal bargains.   They remind us that magic is not dominion, but dialogue with the unseen, a dance of shadows where the familiar whispers truths long buried in the earth.

As the moon wanes and the stars align once more, the legacy of the witch’s familiar endures, a testament to humanity’s yearning for companionship beyond the veil. In every rustle of leaves or glint in an animal’s eye, their spirit lingers, inviting the seeker to awaken the magic within. For in the heart of folklore and history, the familiar is eternal—a bridge to the mysteries that bind us all.