Kitty Smith, University of Sydney

Once yelled at women seen to be pestering or annoying – or at feminists questioning and threatening the status quo – “harpy” has long been used as a derogatory term targeting women.

But have you ever wondered what a harpy was in the first place?

Much like similar derogatory titles “siren” and “fury”, the term “harpy” is derived from a group of monstrous female figures from ancient Greek and Roman mythology.

Who were the harpies?

In Greek and Roman myth, the harpies were a group of animal-human hybrid monsters on par with other such mythological creatures like the sirens, the sphinx, and the centaurs.

Harpies were commonly imagined as an amalgam of a bird’s body, such as wings and claws, with a woman’s head.

The ancient story of the Aeneid, by Latin poet Virgil, describes the story’s hero Aeneas encountering harpies on his quest to found Rome, saying:

Maiden faces have these birds, foulest filth they drop, clawed hands are theirs, and faces ever gaunt with hunger.

This description matches a common design from Greek and Roman art of birds with women’s heads.

In Greco-Roman myth, the harpies were typically tasked with meting out justice on behalf of Zeus and other gods by using their great speed from their wings and sharp talons.

The importance of their claws was likely a result of their name, which was derived from the Ancient Greek word for “snatching” (ἁρπάζω or harpazdo).

As was common of many mythological figures with hybrid features, the way their animal features were portrayed tended to vary across different media (art or literature), different narrative purposes, and over time.

Sometimes the claws were emphasised; other times it was their supernaturally swift wings and voracious hunger.

Enforcers of swift justice

The harpies were not nice people. They existed in myth to dish out punishments from the gods.

Their primary target? Phineus, a seer and king of Salmydessus in Thrace, a city believed to have been located on the Western coast of the Black Sea near the modern day Turkish town of Kıyıköy.

His story is told in the Argonautica by ancient Greek author Apollonius of Rhodes. This tale centres on the journey of Jason and the Argonauts in search of the golden fleece.

In the story, Phineus is said to have abused his powers as a seer by sharing too many of the gods’ secrets with mortals.

This was among the most egregious of crimes in the eyes of the gods, so an especially awful punishment was decided upon.

Phineus was blinded and given the dubious gift of immortality while still allowed to age endlessly. And worst of all, he was set upon by the harpies.

Every time Phineus picked up and tried to eat food, the harpies would burst out from the clouds, moving as fast as lightning, and

with their crooked beaks incessantly snatched the food away from his mouth and hands.

The harpies brought a further gift for Phineus: their smell. This supernaturally “intolerable stench” could putrefy food, so any scraps the harpies didn’t grab were left rotting on the table. You couldn’t even stand near it, “so foully reeked the remnants of the meal”.

And while the harpies swooped in and out in seconds, their smell stuck to the rotting food (and probably poor Phineus).

Some ancient poets add a little extra zest and disgust by also suggesting the harpies may have been defecating on the food, and presumably Phineus.

Most notable is Virgil in his text the Aeneid who wrote about “foedissima ventris proluvies”, meaning:

the foulest discharges from their bellies.

This was likely an exaggeration of their bird-like qualities, used to emphasise how disgusting and monstrous they were.

Phineus was eventually given a reprieve from the harpies, by order of Zeus, so he could help the hero Jason on his quest for the golden fleece.

Having completed their job, the harpies then flew to Crete to live in a cave far away from annoying mortals – only being disturbed once by Aeneas on his meandering path to Rome.

The story of Phineus helped harpies become a metaphor for greed.

Those compared to harpies could include greedy house-guests overstaying their welcome, people living extravagantly or frivolously, or even family members taking advantage of wealthy relatives.

Although the harpies were female monsters, the term was not exclusively applied to women, but used to describe groups of greedy people.

Harpies today

Happily, today the title of “harpy” is falling out of favour as a derogatory term. But the hordes of monstrous, snatching, winged women live on in modern books, games, comics, movies and TV shows.

From video games with swathes of harpy-like creatures snatching and clawing at the protagonist, like the 2020 video game Hades, to characters in stories inspired by Greek and Roman myth, the harpies are sticking around – like a bad smell.

Kitty Smith, PhD Candidate in Classical Greek and Roman History, University of Sydney

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Duncan Garrow, University of Reading

The Melsonby hoard is a remarkable collection of more than 800 iron-age metal artefacts, which was found in a field near Melsonby, North Yorkshire, in December 2021.

Its discovery represents a triumph of cross-sector collaboration in British archaeology. This extraordinary find excavated from Yorkshire soil is not just a collection of ancient objects, but signals a need for a significant revision of how we understand iron-age Britain.

The presence of materials imported from the Mediterranean, and a type of continental European wagon new to Britain, challenges the idea that iron-age Britons were isolated. Instead, it tell us that “wealthy” iron-age people in northern England had contacts extending out across Europe.

This 2022 excavation, supported by a £120,000 grant from Historic England and expertise from the British Museum, revealed more than 800 items dating to the first century BC – around the time of the Roman conquest under Emperor Claudius. The objects are almost certainly associated with the Brigantes tribe who dominated northern England during this period.

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The scale of this discovery sets it apart from typical iron-age finds. The hoard includes partial remains of at least seven four-wheeled wagons and/or two-wheeled chariots, harnesses for at least 14 horses, 28 iron tyres (many deliberately bent), three ceremonial spears and two ornate cauldrons.

In iron-age Britain, communities regularly placed metalwork in rivers and bogs to mark significant life events, including death. The Thames has yielded deliberately deposited human skulls alongside weapons and metal objects. The Melsonby hoard can be seen as a land-based equivalent of these water deposits.

One of the most significant aspects of this discovery is the first evidence of four-wheeled wagons used by iron-age British tribes, possibly imitating vehicles seen in continental Europe. This finding suggests that northern Britain was far from isolated, instead participating in widespread networks spanning Europe to the Mediterranean.

The craftsmanship displayed in the hoard as whole is exceptional. Some horse harnesses feature Mediterranean coral and coloured glass, showcasing the distinctive curving patterns typical of Celtic Art. One cauldron, likely used for mixing wine, combines Mediterranean and iron age artistic styles – concrete evidence of cultural exchange between Britain and continental Europe.

Particularly intriguing is evidence that many items were deliberately burned or broken before burial. This practice of ritually “killing” valuable objects has deep roots in British prehistory, stretching back to the bronze age. By destroying such items, iron age elites may have been demonstrating their wealth and status through conspicuous consumption.

However, the burning might also relate to funerary practices in some way. Though no human remains were found, the objects could have been burned on a funeral pyre in a cremation ritual. This places the Melsonby hoard in an interesting position between traditional archaeological categories. It is part “hoard” (a deliberate deposit of objects) and part “grave goods” (items placed with the dead).

This dual nature isn’t without precedent. Chariot burials are well-documented in iron-age Yorkshire, while collections of horse equipment appear in other discovered hoards. The Melsonby find might represent a combination of these traditions.

However, we wouldn’t know about any of this if it hadn’t been for the decision of metal detectorist Peter Heads to resist unearthing the hoard himself.

On making the discovery in December 2021, Heads immediately contacted archaeologists at Durham University, setting in motion a textbook example of proper archaeological practice. This allowed crucial contextual information that would have been lost forever had the site been disturbed without professional supervision.

The hoard’s objects were carefully identified using scanning technology at the University of Southampton, allowing archaeologists to excavate without causing damage. This meticulous approach will enable years of productive research into these artefacts.

Valued at £254,000, the Melsonby hoard is now the subject of a fundraising campaign by the Yorkshire Museum. A selection of objects is already on display, giving the public access to these remarkable artefacts.

As research continues on this extraordinary find, it stands as a powerful example of how proper archaeological practice – from responsible metal detecting to collaborative, well-funded excavation – can transform our understanding of Britain’s past.

The Melsonby hoard offers a unique window into iron-age life in Britain, challenging long-held historical assumptions about regional development and cultural sophistication.

Duncan Garrow, Professor of Archaeology, University of Reading

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Rebecca Willis, University of Newcastle

You wake up at night sensing a weight on your legs that you thought was your pet dog – only to remember they died years ago. Or perhaps you know someone who swears they can still hear their childhood cat moving around the house, scratching at the door at night.

Tales of ghost animals in our modern world are often framed as a comfort; the beloved pet returning to visit. But this has not always been the case.

In ancient Greece and Rome, you might assume that the close relations between humans and animals would result in many tales of animal ghosts, but this is not the case. In fact, such stories are actually incredibly rare.

And the handful of examples that do exist depict the ghostly animals not as friendly visitors but as mere tools for humans – often to do evil.

1. Revenge of the ghost cat

One such example comes from the Greek Magical Papyri, a document from Graeco-Roman Egypt that’s written mostly in ancient Greek.

This handbook of spells and magic rituals was used by professional magicians dating from the second century BCE to the fifth century CE.

It includes a spell that allows a practitioner of magic to use a ghost cat to get revenge on their enemy.

This spell, listed in the document as “PGM III 1-164” does not have a specific goal but is described as suitable for:

every ritual purpose: a charm to restrain charioteers in a race, a charm for sending dreams, a binding love charm, and a charm to cause separation and enmity.

A translation note observes that all of these are forms of malicious magic.

The focus of this spell is the ritual drowning of a cat. While holding the cat’s body underwater, the magician recites an incantation and calls to the “cat-faced god[ess]” to inform them of the mistreatment that their sacred animal is suffering.

However, the magician boldly lies to the god, claiming that it is their chosen human target who is responsible for the killing.

The enterprising magician then offers a solution to this affront, asking the god to allow the cat to return as a ghost to serve them as a daimon (a supernatural being with mystical powers).

With the god’s support the magician was then free to curse or bind their chosen victim, suitably reframing the action as the cat’s own revenge against its presumed murderer.

2. The divorce lizard

Our second example also comes from the Greek Magical Papyri (listed as “PGM LXI. 39-71”).

Like many erotic spells of antiquity, this spell was designed to attract a chosen target to the magician.

However, some targets were easier to attract than others.

This text offers a ritual solution to would-be magicians whose chosen victim was already married. By harnessing the power of another ghostly animal daimon, this ritual aims to destroy the marriage.

The text begins by instructing the magician to find a spotted lizard “from the place where bodies are mummified”, kill it with hot coals and make it into a ghostly daimon.

While the lizard is dying, the magician recites an incantation. This spell aims to destroy the couple’s relationship by making them hate each other.

Later, hiding outside the couple’s home with the lizard’s ashes, the magician calls upon the newly dead lizard to return as a ghost daimon and force the target to abandon her marital home using its supernatural powers.

Once complete, the target would become especially vulnerable to an attraction spell.

3. The ghostly cavalry

The final example comes from a document known as Descriptions of Greece, written by Greek traveller and geographer Pausanias in the second century CE.

The author recounts a local tale about a haunted field where the Battle of Marathon took place in 490 BCE.

Here, Pausanias claims, the sounds of “horses neighing and men fighting” can be heard every night as the ghosts of fallen Greek and Persian soldiers continue to do battle.

Interestingly, Pausanias is careful to warn his readers that those who deliberately seek out these ghosts will suffer their wrath. Thankfully, though, anyone that stumbles upon them by accident will remain safe.

Unlike the first two examples, these ghost horses are not facilitated by magic or divine power. So, why were they believed to return as ghosts when other horses did not? Just as the ghosts of infantry men retained their swords and shields so they could continue to battle each night, the horses remained an essential tool for the ghosts of the cavalrymen.

Animals with a ghostly purpose

These examples provide a fascinating window into the perception of animals in antiquity.

It is well evidenced that the Greeks and Romans adored their pets, and in everyday life animals were given many different roles in society.

However, after death these roles are drastically narrowed. In ancient times, animals seem only to return as ghosts in situations where they exist as tools for human use.

It remains to be seen what afterlife the ancients believed would be experienced by animals without a ghostly purpose.

Rebecca Willis, PhD Candidate, Classics and Ancient History, University of Newcastle

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.