Heading West, we chanced upon an island and decided to anchor for the night in the lee of its shore. That evening I was walking alone along the beach when suddenly I came upon a woman, sitting motionless on a rock. Her gaze was cast downward, her eyes fixed upon the stones; and yet they were clearly not the object of her thought. She seemed so perfectly alone, so self-contained in her contemplation, that I longed to become absorbed into the pool of her isolation. I stepped nearer and there, among the stones on which her gaze was cast, I saw the subject of her concern. In the corridors of a labyrinth a man with drawn sword, stalked a fearful beast. He was advancing cautiously, unrolling a ball of string as he went. I knew him at once to be Theseus and the beast to be the Minotaur. The woman turned towards me.

The bull of the Old Year, the Minotaur, must die, I said, So that he can be followed by the spring calf of the New Year. Every year the Gods sow and reap, gathering the fruits of man's labour into the store houses of the past.

And Theseus? She asked.

The Gods need him elsewhere, I replied. Come.

[7]

Swathed in malarial swamps and morning mists, Jupiter had originally set Tuscany and Umbria aside for himself. But as my father he readily agreed to allow my followers to settle. Soon they were building their towns and villages on the high-ground, overlooking the Tyrrean Sea and the dreaded swamps of the Maremma. From there they spread throughout Italy, while those who remained in the coastal regions descended from the hills to clear the rivers and drain the lagoons. The mosquitoes retreated and for a time the Maremma prospered. Under the Romans though, the elaborate draining systems fell into disuse, the rivers became blocked and the marshland returned. It was to be another eighteen centuries before the region prospered again.
The frequent thunder storms of Central Italy gave the Etruscan haruspixes ample opportunity to study the interpretation of lightning. This enabled them to eavesdrop on the quarrels of the gods, not infrequently thwarting Hera's plans to disinherit them of their new-found territory. Whatever lightning had struck was sealed into the ground with a lead and stone construction, resembling the cap of a well or gabled like a house. Perhaps it was this act of burying that gave rise to the later view that lightning was responsible for the occurrence of the truffles for which Etruria was to be so rightly famed. "Since during storms, flames leap from the humid vapours and dark clouds emit deafening noises, is it surprising," Plutarch wrote, "that lightning, when it strikes the ground, gives rise to truffles, which do not resemble plants?" These elusive tubers were as much sought after then as now and still to this day, the locations where they are to found are kept as closely guarded secrets by the trifolau. An aphrodisiac, their odour was thought to be the scent of the gods and to have caused Venus to have cast her necklace into the Tyrrean Sea, the stones of which became the islands of Gorgona, Capraia, Elba, Pianosa, Montecristo, Giglio and Giannurti. But actually the truffle embodies the salt of the earth and contains the aroma of the soil that was later to bear the Talpona, the Etruscan forerunner of Chianti.
After abandoning her necklace to the waves of the Tyrrean Sea, the first person Venus met was Hercules. And there on the sacred soil of Etruria, Tages was conceived. Endowed with great wisdom, he had the wings of a swan. Later he was joined by a brother, Maris. And though Maris had neither wisdom nor wings, from the back of his head, the head and neck of a swan curved protectively over him. The boy Maris was instructed by his father in the art of war. Like the hero, he was given tasks which revealed to him the nature of the world; and as Maris became more and more acquainted with the ways of the world, so the swan's neck that loomed over him began to recede. Taking after his mother, who had sought love among Etruria's limestone hills, Tages meanwhile, sought knowledge among the spongy mass of the liver. And as he became more and more acquainted with its secrets, so he too began to shed his wings. Just as his brother no longer needed the protection of the swan's beady eyes and powerful beak, so Tages no longer needed the great white wings which had enabled him to watch over the doings of the gods and observe the corresponding changes in the livers of men and animals.
One day the two youths were surprised to see their mother accompanied by a bird they had never seen before. It was the swan Pusna, whose wings had born Tages high over the earth and whose beak and sharp eyes had protected Maris. Venus beckoned her sons to come over. It was time for them to descend to the world of men, she said, to perform their godly duties. Tages departed at once, instinctively heading for the place where he had been conceived. Maris carefully donned his armour. Then he too left, following in his brother's footsteps. The goddess smiled as she saw her sons pass the crescent of islands which had once been her necklace. Hercules had done his job well, now Maris was to become Laran, god of war, while his brother would reveal to the Etruscans the secrets of the liver.



[8]

Among the family of legumes, the artichoke is remarkable, not only because it bears a close resemblance to my thyrsus, but also because it is rich in iron and is exceptionally good for the liver. This organ, being the source of dreams and emotions, is a sensitive instrument and requires especial care. The spirit of an age, absorbed into an animal in the form of plant matter, shows any imbalances and disharmonies in the world as swellings and scars in the liver tissue. These the haruspix must identify, ascertaining the scale of damage and the abnormality of the swelling. Like the sky, the edge of the liver is divided into sixteen parts. The interior region is then divided into a further eighteen houses. Depending on which house the deformity lies, it is a signal of imbalance in some aspect of the world-order. With his knowledge of the gods and his experience of the world the haruspix can then say in what way the disharmony will be corrected. A particularly well-developed part of the liver portends growth in the house of its god and is generally a good sign. As in all forms of prediction, hepadoptry is a method of analysing the past in such a way that the future may be discerned.
Like the artichoke, the hills around the gulf of Baretti where we first landed, are rich in iron and the livers of the sheep and goats sacrificed during the middle of the sixth century BC would have indicated that the house of Fufluns was due to be expanded. And indeed it was. The region was destined to become the Ruhr Valley of the Ancient World, while the city of Populonia, always associated with my name, was to prosper. From there my people traded profusely with Greece and Carthage. When the Gauls marched against Rome in 387 BC it was with the protection of the Etruscan breastplates they wore on their shoulders. However it was not only hardware that was exported but also wine. The oldest amphora with a cork stopper is Etruscan and its contents were known by both Greek and Gaul alike. In keeping with the taste of the time most of their wines were sweet. From Arezzo came the Talpona, from Todi, the Tudernis. The Romans were particularly partial to a Muscat wine they called Appianae, from appianium, which means attractive to bees On the coast, the wines of Graviscae included some excellent vintages, despite, as one Roman records, the malaria exhaled by the surrounding marshes.
However no golden age can last forever and the haruspixes correctly predicted the demise of their own people. 10 saeculae was the duration they assigned their civilisation. A saeculum is the longest span between a man's birth and death and corresponds to what is now called a century. At the end of a saeculum the gods would give a sign which it was up to the haruspixes to interpret. Although many saeculae were less than a hundred years, there were also those which lasted longer, saeculae of 119 or 123 years being not unknown. The Etruscans dated their history from circa 10 BC. In the last centuries before Christ, Etruscan political power started to dwindle and as it did, their culture began to become absorbed into that of the expansively-minded Romans. From then on it was to be the Republic of Rome that was to benefit from the mineral reserves of the Gulf of Baretti, while her colonists were to suffer from the returning evil of malaria.

To make rose-flavoured oil: submerge as many rose petals as possible in olive oil and leave for a few days until the oil has soaked its way through. Then strain and repeat two more times with fresh petals. Do not squeeze the petals while they are draining as any water in the oil will spoil its aroma.
Into a pot of crème fraîche beat in the rose oil until it is almost saturated, then add some pine kernels. Steam the artichokes until the leaves are soft, drizzle over some rose oil and serve with the dip.
Consisting of a stalk of fennel entwined with ivy and surmounted by a pine-cone, the resemblance between my thyrsus and an artichoke was easily perceived by the Ancients and not for nothing does Columella warn:

The prickly artichoke is planted, welcome
to the drinking followers of Bacchus.
But Phoebus denies his followers sweet songs
If they should deign to eat it

[9]

Ever since Hera convinced my mother that she should try and persuade Zeus to appear before her in all the splendour of his divinity, I have been the subject of intrigues and conspiracies. My father, much in love, reluctantly complied with his mistress's request and she was at once consumed by the flames and lightening of his splendour. From out of the ashes only my foetus was saved. This Zeus inserted into his thigh, to be extracted three months later in the presence of Apollo, with the help of Thalna and Mean. Then I was entrusted to the care of Silenus the satyr. Soon after being restored to human form, Hera sent a band of pirates to kidnap me, misguiding them with the notion that I was the son of a noble king, who could be held for ransom. But as the ship set sail, the mast and spires became the stalk and tendrils of an enormous vine, laden down with grapes and billowing green leaves. The oars turned to roots while I became a lion, roaring so fiercely that the oarsmen leapt over the side and were changed into dolphins. Despite this incontestable proof of my powers it was only after my conquests in the East that I was grudgingly admitted into the pantheon of gods. Even so, Hera's spiteful slander continued and soon I left Olympus, heading West with my retinue, towards the land the Greeks were to call Oenotria, the Land of Vines. There we settled and in celebration of my marriage to Ariadne, Jupiter showed my people how to survey the sky and divide up the land, instructing them in the art of reading the heavens and managing the fields. Later, the youth Tages appeared to them from out of a furrow and initiated them into the secrets of the liver-seer. But it was over the so-called Food of the Gods that matters came to a head in 186 BC. The shrine of the oracle at Delphi is sacred to Apollo for nine months of the year but from December to February it is mine. During this time the new year is born and the fruits of the old year are transformed into wine. Various festivals are held in my honour, starting with the country Dionysia in the villages and finishing with the Anthesteria, the flower festival in February, when the new wine is tasted. Every second year though, the women of Athens would obtain leave from their men-folk to journey to my shrine. Along the way, many more would join them, so that by the time they arrived, there would be a whole army of them. Inevitably provisions would run out and groups would begin roaming the slopes in search of fungi. Winter is the mushroom season in Greece and among the many fungi that flourish on Mount Parnassus is one called Amanita Muscaria. Eaten raw, this mushroom induces hallucinations and senseless abandonment, accompanied by an upsurge in erotic energy and remarkable muscular strength. Hours later the women would be found lying exhausted among the snow, convinced they had been to India and back. Two years would go by and they would return, impatient for more mysteries. They would take no food with them but would bring friends and climb higher. The hallucinations would be stronger, while for the psyche these rituals became a mechanism, allowing the intervening years of subjection by men to be released. These maenads as they called themselves, would run around the slopes, their heads thrown back. They would not baulk at handling snakes and fire or from tearing animals to pieces and eating the raw flesh. For a few hours they would be heroes, striding over the earth in the footsteps of the gods. Though they observed strict secrecy concerning what they did and ate, inevitably rumours became rife, so that by the time Euripides wrote the Bacchae, everyone knew, or thought they knew, what was being talked about.
On Olympus there was nothing but disapproval at my handing out so liberally the food which was otherwise reserved only for the gods. But no-one could deny the right of every man to receive the benefits of wine; and so I argued, was it not only natural that the liberating effects begun by wine, should be continued by other means? I pointed to the hollow stalk of fennel that makes up the rod of my thyrsus. At that time wine was seldom drunken alone; not only were resin and ivy berries added but also ergot and frankincense. After these initiations who could deny that my followers were not worthy enough to experience the ultimate mystery?
From Greece the cult spread to Italy, where Amanita Muscaria is also to be found. I decided my best chance lay in claiming as many converts as possible, so that when the matter came before the Roman senate, as it surely would, my rites would be granted the sanction of official approval. In this, though, I was cunningly out-manoeuvred by Hera who took the apparently harmless step of suggesting to a priestess in Campangia that she should allow her sons to partake in one of my ceremonies. Soon all over Italy men were taking part in the nocturnal rituals and the tide of scandal became irrepressible. I tried to embroil members of the senate but it was too late. My followers were branded as anarchists, who in their desire to undermine public values, left no form of indecency untried. Soon enough the necessary witnesses were found, the Bacchanalia were banned and some seven thousand people were accused of conspiring against the state. Yet even then Hera was not satisfied but let the historians, most notably Livy, emphasise the foreign origins of the cult. From Greece the immoral practices had spread to the Etruscans and from there the drunken god of wine had dared to threaten the stability of Rome herself. What Hera did not see was that already the ivy of my thyrsus was entwining itself around the columns of the imperial city, while on the outskirts clumps of wild fennel were swaying in the breeze.

To make garum: take the gills, intestines and blood of numerous mackerel or whole mackerel chopped into pieces and saturate with salt, using 6 parts salt to 16 parts fish. Add parsley and capers and leave to stand overnight. Then transfer to an earthenware jar, cover and leave in a warm place, preferably out in the sun. Stir occasionally. After 2-3 months the parts of the fish will dissolve to form a thick brown paste. Press a fine plunger into the mixture and ladle out liquid. Seal and leave to mature in a cool place until the liquid turns clear and resembles honey. The remaining "alec", can be used as a spread or dried and grated over dishes as a flavouring in much the same way as garum itself. As garum is the result of the digestive enzymes of the fish digesting the fish themselves, prior to use, the fish and/or fish parts should not be washed.
Trim the raw fennel, discarding the stringy stalk but keeping the fronds. Then cut the fleshy parts into fine slices, mix with the toasted pine kernels and dress with olive oil and lemon juice. Behead, gut and clean the fish before running a thumb down each back-bone in order to carefully ease it away from the flesh and cut it off close to the tail. Brush both sides with olive oil and grill. When cooked, lay the fish on the salad bed, add the chopped fennel fronds and anoint with garum.
Garum was popular throughout the Ancient World, being used as an ingredient for sauces, a condiment for seafood dishes and meats and as a dressing for salads. The best garum was made in Carthage, though the most expensive was devised by the Roman Apicius and used the livers and blood of red mullets. During the time of Caesar a congius of garum (3 1/4 litres) cost 500 sestertii or something approaching £4000.

[10]

Lightning is the most direct manifestation of friction and tension in the world-order and predictions based on it over-ride all others. In all there are nine gods who can throw lightning and eleven different bolts. These eleven bolts fall into three categories. Zeus, as ruler of the gods, has one bolt from each category at his disposal, which he can throw from whichever region of the sky he wishes. His bolts are characterised by being red. The other gods can only throw lightning from out of their own houses. Having only one bolt each, their lightning is distinguishable from Zeus's by being white.
Lightning of the first category is the most harmless (when one is not in its direct proximity) and is usually shown as a clutched hand holding a number of bolts zigzagging in all directions. By moderns it is known as sheet lightning and it was this that incinerated my unsuspecting mother. Bolts of the second category ignite and burn whatever they can. Nowadays it is called fork lightning and is easily distinguished by having more prongs at its head than at its tail. Third category lightning is accompanied by great cracks of thunder and blasts whatever it strikes to pieces. Represented as a single-headed arrow or spear and usually having a profusion of tail-pieces, it is the most accurate of divine missiles. It is either held like a spear or sceptre but is sometimes shown as a dart, resting harmlessly in the hand of its divine owner. Although the gift of lightning was originally given to Zeus by the Cyclopses, the different kinds were forged by Vulcan in the eternal furnace of his workshop. As the smith hammered the bolts into shape on his anvil, Prometheus, lying unnoticed in the shadows, caught some of the sparks and carried them down to earth so that mankind might not want for warmth. As he was always to be on such occasions, Zeus was not in agreement with the handing out among mortals, of such divine gifts. Prometheus was chained to a rock on the eastern edge of the world and every day an eagle would descend from on high, to pick and tear at his liver. In the night what the eagle had eaten would re-grow, so that by the time Aroura arrived to see the sun off on his daily journey across the sky, Prometheus' liver would be whole again, fresh and palpitating with life.
Like the unfortunate Titan, the Etruscan haruspix when reading a liver, turns his back to the East so that the outer regions of the organ become aligned with the corresponding regions in the sky. By virtue of the Incisura Umbilicalis, which presses against the palm of the haruspix's left hand, the earth is divided in two. To his right there are the powers of fate and the gods of heaven, to his left the divinities of nature and the gods of the underworld. This line running from East to West, links Atlas bearer of the heavens with Prometheus, bringer of fire.
Before he can discharge bolts of the second or third category, Zeus must receive permission from the Fates, those anonymous and invisible beings that hang over both mortals and immortals alike. Although their biddings cannot be opposed, there are circumstances when they may be influenced. When certain groups of gods are in agreement it is difficult for the Fates to oppose their wishes. And yet, when is there agreement on Olympus? This is where the sacrifices of man play their part and where the Gordian knot of determination slips. For through sacrifice and prayer, it is possible for mortals to change the opinions of the gods. A sacrifice made at the right time may be sufficient to make a god change his mind and thus bring about agreement among a council of gods, which may in turn bend the iron will of Fate. The decision when and to whom to make a sacrifice, belonged of course, to the haruspix. The two most important councils are the Deii Consentes and the Deii Superiores. The first is a council of twelve gods while the second is an elect council of only six. It is these two councils that influence the Fates in deciding whether or not Zeus is to be permitted to throw his second and third thunder bolts. In order to throw his second bolt, Zeus has to have a majority in his favour among the Deii Consentes, while his third bolt can only be thrown when there is a unanimous agreement among the Deii Superiores.
As ruler of the gods, Zeus longed to dispose of Prometheus with a third category thunder bolt but within the Deii Consentes and the Deii Superiores there was for a long time disagreement as to whether or not mankind should have received the gift of fire. The ingenuity of the punishment Zeus finally devised for Prometheus, is to be seen in the fact that the disagreement his crime aroused among the inhabitants of Olympus, was to be re-enacted, day for day, in the microcosm of his liver. On being admitted to Olympus I immediately sided with those in favour of man's having been given the gift of fire. Before inventing wine I had been a god of vegetation, embodying the potency of spring as it emerged from the death throes of winter. Each year, either in the form of a bull or a man, I was ritually slain so as to guarantee, through my death and subsequent rebirth, the Old Year's passing and the New Year's coming. But with the invention of wine, each autumn I was trampled underfoot, the fruit and seeds of my vitality fermenting to make the product with which the New Year would be welcomed and the Old Year savoured. I was therefore to have need of the flickering warmth of fire, for how can the mind relax when the body is cold? Like the food of the gods that warms the mind, Prometheus' gift was also brought to man in a hollow stalk of fennel. And although it is true that Greek apothecaries used to keep their herbs stopped up in stalks of fennel in order to preserve their freshness, this was not the only reason why I choose this plant to form the rod of my thyrsus.



[11]

In the Tomba dei Tori, at Tarquinia, love scenes are depicted. The foreground of the fresco is decorated with pomegranates and I myself am shown as a bull with a man's face. Although the pomegranate is the fruit of love, it contains within itself the seeds of death. For any seed to live, the fruit surrounding it must die. It was with a few seeds of a pomegranate that Hades tricked Persephone into spending six months of the year in the darkness of his kingdom. Yet with the squeezing of a bunch of grapes the fruit can escape death. The pomegranate too can be fermented and its seeds crushed to make a spicy mustard. It was this that Ariadne chose to honour in the honeyed cakes that she baked on our wedding day. Only when the fertility of my flesh has been sacrificed can my blood become immortal - this is the meaning behind the scene in the labyrinth. It is also the reason why Ariadne had to betray her brother - in order that I, in losing my bull-like aspect might gain a bride and immortality.

Over a gentle heat, mix the butter and honey together in a saucepan. Remove from the heat and stir in the oats or spelt and the flesh of a pomegranate, trying not to burst the fruity nodules. Then pour the mixture into a buttered baking tray and bake in a hot oven for half an hour, until golden brown. Cut into fingers while still hot and then leave to cool before serving.
Before the introduction of wheat in the fifth century, spelt, or farro as it was then called, was the most commonly used grain in Mediterranean climes. The grain however, was so difficult to separate from the husk that this could not be done by threshing. Instead the corn was roasted and the husks were then removed by hand, the slaves performing this task being known as pistores. This word was later used for backers and confectioners and is still to be found in street names. Echoes of the word farro meanwhile, survive in the Italian word, nozze, which refers to both the wedding ceremony and to the biscuits baked for the occasion. This comes by way of the Latin in which a wedding is a confarreatio, as the bride customarily brought a flat cake made from farro. The cake would be dedicated to Jupiter and eaten by the bride and groom before the altar of their marital abode.

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | References | Bacchus Table of Contents