C.

NormanJournal
European – The of
Tribal Tattooing
Archaeology 14 of Daunian
(1–2), 2011,Women
p. 133–157 ISSN 1461-9571 133
Manuscript received 7 September 2010, revised 20 December 2010, accepted 25 January 2011

The Tribal Tattooing of Daunian Women

Camilla Norman

Keywords: Daunia, stelae, tattoo, cross-cultural analogy

Mots clés: Daunia, stèles, tatou, analogie interculturelle
Schlüsselbegriffe: Daunier, Stelen, Tattoo, kulturübergreifende Analogie

Using cross-cultural ethnographic and archaeological analogy, this paper offers a new interpretation for
a specific societal attribute represented on the Iron Age stelae of Daunia, arguing that the designs on
the forearms of the female stelae do not represent gloves but are instead tattoos. By questioning a single,
long-held, belief about the stelae, it is hoped to highlight a very important principle of method: the need to
identify and investigate the socio-cultural context of an image or artefact. For too long the Daunian stelae
have been looked at through Hellenized eyes. Unlike other Italic societies of this period, the Daunians
appear to have remained reasonably unaffected by Greek and wider Mediterranean influence, suggesting
the Iron Age inhabitants of the region retained a strong ethnic identity. With limited evidence of their
social and religious life deriving from other sources, any hope of understanding these people properly relies
on a correct reading of their stelae, which can only be achieved by firmly placing these monuments within
an Adriatic milieu.

Little is known of the social and religious life
of the Daunians. Mention of the Daunians
in ancient literature is limited and unin-
formative on the subject, and the material
evidence they have left behind offers few
tangible clues regarding this aspect of their
culture. The area the Daunians inhabited
corresponds roughly with the northern part
of modern Puglia (south-eastern Italy: Fig.
1). Their name comes from ancient Greek
and Latin literary sources, and while we do
not know if the ‘Daunians’ shared a single
ethnic identity, or how they perceived this
identity (Herring 2007:270–276), it is
possible they sought to delineate them-
selves: the material culture of the Iron Age
inhabitants of the region remained quite
distinct from their neighbours, until the
region was incorporated into the Roman
state in the third century BC. They were
a tribal society, and many see a differen-
tiation between the Daunians north of the
Ofanto River and those to the south (most
explicit in their matt-painted pottery, e.g.
Yntema 1990:219–310). Unlike other
parts of South Italy, there is little sign of
influence from the eastern Mediterranean
in the planning of their dwellings or set-
tlements. There are no extant religious or
civic structures that speak of organized
communal activity, other than a substan-
tial earthen embankment encircling Arpi
which would have taken considerable plan-
ning and man-hours to construct. Daunian
domestic architecture, having not been
widely excavated, is poorly understood.
Although some of their sites grew to be
very large, the archaeological evidence
for social hierarchy is less than might be
expected. This is also broadly true of their
funerary record, in which ‘princely tombs’
are relatively rare (e.g. Bottini 1982; Fabbri
134
and Osanna 2002; Liseno 2007; Mazzei
1984; Mertens 1994; Tinè Bertocchi 1985;
Volpe et al. 2008).
Prior to the fourth century the Daunians
were a society that, by and large, did not
produce figured art. Daunian pottery is
still decorated with geometric designs (De
Juliis 1977; Yntema 1990) at a time when
the Greek and Italic groups with whom
they were in contact is regularly figured,
and statuettes and architectural terracot-
tas are rare. Furthermore, the Daunians
came very late to literacy, and the inscrip-
tions which were made before the region
was engulfed by Latin are short and few in
number. Little is left to tell us of the habits
and beliefs of these people. There is one
notable exception to this phenomenon: a
European Journal of Archaeology 14 (1–2) 2011
Figure 1. Map of
Daunia, show-
ing relevant sites
within the find
zone.
class of enigmatic artefacts which provides
a narrative that has the potential to reveal
far more about the social and religious life
of Daunians than we could otherwise hope
to know: their stelae.1
The Daunian Stelae
The stelae are anthropomorphic, each com-
prised of a single slab of limestone and
incised to show a human figure in richly
decorated robes, with arms held sym-
metrically across the chest. The men carry
weaponry (Fig. 2), while the women wear
embroidered aprons, have decorated arms,
and are adorned with jewellery (Fig. 3). The
heads of the stelae are separate, standing
C. Norman – The Tribal Tattooing of Daunian Women
atop of the slab. They can be either iconic
or aconic, and are conical or spherical in
shape.2 All incised elements were further
picked out with colour, namely back, red
and ochre/white, of which today only faint
traces remain.
135
Figure 2. SD 736. Male
Daunian stela. 90 x 40 x
5.5 cm. Reproduced with
the permission of the Mini-
stero per i Beni e le Attività
Culturali – Direzione Re-
gionale per i Beni Culturali
e Pesaggistici della Puglia –
Soprintendenza per i Beni
Archeologici della Puglia.
Figure 3. SD 949. Female
Daunian stela. 99 x 41 x
9 cm. Reproduced with the
permission of the Ministe-
ro per i Beni e le Attività
Culturali – Direzione Re-
gionale per i Beni Culturali
e Pesaggistici della Puglia –
Soprintendenza per i Beni
Archeologici della Puglia.
Drawn within the geometric borders of
their robes, figured iconography is some-
times present. The subject-matter depicted
is varied and far-reaching. Included are
scenes and vignettes of weaving, hunting,
fishing, and the preparation of food, of
136
banquets, farewells, processions, martial
games, and warfare – even, arguably, of
local myths, legends, and rituals (Norman
2011). In short, the Daunians depicted
their customs, rites, and cosmological views
upon these stelae. The images provide the
only Daunian self-representation we have
of this period.3
Any study of the Daunian stelae is
complicated by the fact there is neither
accompanying contextual information for
them, nor a comparable body of objects.
The vast majority of the stelae were gath-
ered together in the 1960s and 70s, when
the systematic recording of archaeological
finds was not always carried out with rigour,
and next to no record of their provenances
or contexts was taken. We know that they
were found exclusively in northern Daunia
and the Melfese, with a strong concentra-
tion on the Sipontine plain. We are told
also that many were found in secondary
contexts, reused in agricultural walls, roads,
and buildings. Of the more than 1200
Daunian stelae and stela fragments known
today, only a very small number have
approximate find-spots associated with
them, normally because they were excep-
tional finds, such as the first ever noted,
published by Mariani over a century ago
(Mariani 1909), and the fragment found
near Lucera in 2006 (Andreassi 2007:511,
pl. IV,4). Sporadic finds in recent times
confirm their very restricted spread, but to
date there are still only a handful that have
been found under excavation conditions:
all single fragments, and none in their
primary context (e.g. Mertens 1995:110–
111, figs. 71–72; Tagliente 2006:737–738,
pl. VIII,3).
A typology has been developed by Maria
Luisa Nava, who divides them into five
broad categories (types I to V), and dates
them roughly between the early seventh
and the early fifth centuries BC (Nava
1988:180–198). Although contemporary
anthropomorphic stelae are known in
European Journal of Archaeology 14 (1–2) 2011
peninsular Italy, they are isolated examples
and provide no parallel corpus. It is thought
that, in intervening areas, similar statue-
stelae may have been made from wood.
It is commonly held that the stelae were
funerary in nature, but with no support-
ing evidence we cannot be sure of their
function. The stelae from Monte Sara-
ceno, precursors to the Iron Age stelae of
Daunia, were found in the cemetery (Nava
1987, 1999). The stela from L’Amastuola,
whose form parallels the female stelae from
Daunia, although displaced, was also found
in the necropolis (Burgers and Crielaard
2007:100–101, fig. 38). Similar fragments
are known from the Salento peninsula,
where likewise they have been tied to burial
areas. However, it has been suggested that
one of the stelae from Cavallino was erected
outside the north-east gate (D’Andria
2005:36–37, and the reconstruction on pp.
101–102). Evidence from the Lunigiana
statue-stelae (Grupo Archeologico Pisano
n.d.) and those of Monte Prama in Sardinia
(Tronchetti and van Dommelen 2005:188,
200–203) point to a commemorative func-
tion, but one that is many-layered and not
necessarily tied to a specific grave or indi-
vidual. If the Daunian stelae are funerary,
the labour required to produce them and
their low number suggest a use by the social
élite, or by another specific sector of the
population.
It is not surprising that the figura-
tive iconography on the Daunian stelae
has commanded the majority of schol-
ars’ attention when considering these
monuments. The narrative it provides is
unparalleled for pre- and proto-historic
south-east Italy. There is, however, also
much to be gained from a study of the
clothing and accoutrements of the main
figures themselves. In this paper, I investi-
gate one such aspect: the decorated lower
arms of the female stelae. The decoration
is typically comprised of a single symbol
above the elbow, a series of patterns down
C. Norman – The Tribal Tattooing of Daunian Women
the forearm, and simple markings across
the hand and knuckles. This decoration
appears only on the female stelae, the arms
of the males having been left bare. The
only other geometric designs found on the
stelae decorate the edges of their robes,
intended to represent patterns woven or
embroidered into the fabric, and the pat-
terns used are quite distinct from those
found on the arms of the females.
Identifying the gender of a Daunian
stela is not a straight-forward process. It is
a topic I have elaborated on in detail previ-
ously (Norman 2009), and one which the
current investigation has greatly helped to
clarify. Up until this point, following past
scholarship, I have been hesitant to ascribe
sex-labels to the stelae, preferring to refer
to the two different types as ‘stelae with
ornamentation’ and ‘stelae with weaponry’.
The essential problem lies in the fact that
there are approximately six times as many
stelae with ornamentation (female) as there
are stelae with weaponry (male). This is not
only unusual for Iron Age Italy, but com-
pletely contravenes the norm as corpuses
are either predominantly or exclusively
male. A second concern, which indeed
potentially explains this imbalance, is that
artefact assemblages from Iron Age Italic
burials show it can be dangerous to assume
the sex of an individual based on the pres-
ence of jewellery or weaponry alone, and
that a correlation between biological sex
and social gender cannot always be drawn.
Ethnographic studies and certain results
of the application of gender theory in
archaeology have reinforced the need to
tread carefully in such situations (e.g. for
Italy, for general overviews see Robb 1977;
Whitehouse 2001, and for specific studies
Bietti Sestieri 1992; Luttikhuizen 2000;
Toms 1998; Vida Navarro 1992). However,
for reasons which will become clear, I now
firmly believe stelae with ornamentation
represent females and stelae with weaponry
represent males.4
137
Forearm Decoration of the
Female Stelae
Of the 142 female stelae and stela frag-
ments on which the relevant area is pre-
served, only five have bare forearms (e.g.
SD 985+10325), while two have only a
single, unadorned horizontal band or
‘bracelet’ above the wrist (SD 64+634,
SD 677). Otherwise, the forearms of all
remaining female stelae are incised with
decorations. The patterns used are straight
lines, rectangles, simple running mean-
ders, and running lozenges. Although the
number of design elements is restricted,
a certain amount of variation is obtained
through employing them in different com-
binations.
The types of forearm decoration are as
follows (Fig. 4):
• a series of horizontal lines (SD 18. Not
pictured);
• a series of horizontal rectangles (e.g. SD
228. Not pictured);
• 2 to 5 (typically 3) vertical lines (e.g. SD
182, SD 222, SD 775, SD 1061);
• 3 (occasionally 2) vertical rectangles (e.g.
SD 593, SD 850);
• 3 vertical segmented rectangles (SD 584
has only 2) (e.g. SD 584, SD 693);
• 3 vertical indented rectangles (e.g. SD
219);
• 2 vertical meanders (SD 1200 has 3)
(e.g. SD 615, SD 622);
• a vertical meander running down each
outside edge of the forearm, with 1 or 2
vertical lines between (inverted on SD
784) (e.g. SD 869);
• a vertical meander running down each
outside edge of the forearm, with a ver-
tical string of lozenges between (e.g. SD
836, SD 949).
Further variation is achieved by the addi-
tion of a line or band(s) around the elbow at
the termination of, or just above the vertical
elements. On occasion, this is also true for
138 European Journal of Archaeology 14 (1–2) 2011

a) SD 222 h) SD 949

b) SD 593 i) SD 836

c) SD 850 j) SD 775

d) SD 693
k) SD 182

e) SD 584 l) SD 1061

f ) SD 622 m) SD 615

g) SD 869 n) SD 219

Figure 4. Examples of forearm and hand decorations on female Daunian stelae (a–i adapted from Nava
1988:206–207, figs 224–225; j–n authors own drawings). Not to scale.
C. Norman – The Tribal Tattooing of Daunian Women
the wrist. The bands are either plain, deco-
rated with a simple running meander, or
very occasionally with circles (e.g. SD 775:
Fig. 4j). Generally speaking, plain bands are
used in conjunction with vertical lines and
vertical indented rectangles, while meander
bands are used in conjunction with verti-
cal rectangles, vertical segmented rectan-
gles, and meanders. Quite often (at least
27 times), and across all types, there are no
bands at all, the vertical patterning being
left un-bound at both ends. SD 864 carries
a single, segmented band on the left wrist
only. It is the only band of its sort and, as
it is not repeated on the right wrist, might
better be considered a bracelet.
The hands of the female stelae are also
often decorated. Overall, some 135 partial
hands, hands or pairs of hands have been
preserved on the female stelae, 85 of which
are decorated. The decoration takes the
form of a zigzag (e.g. SD 615+865: Fig.
4m), or a series of dashes, squares or circles
across the back of the hand, either incised
in outline or indented. At the joints of the
fingers there can be either one or two lines.
On closer inspection, it becomes apparent
that all incision on the hands is intended
to show not adornment but to indicate the
knuckles. Although the markings across
the back of the hands are more often than
not three in number, when the element is
small enough there will be more. On the
unusual stela from Masseria Lauria (Nava
1988:193, figs. 208–209), each of the five
knuckles is clearly delineated.
A Brief History of ‘Fashion’ Gloves
It has always been assumed that the dec-
oration of the forearms and hands of the
female stelae represent gloves. That I con-
sider the hand decoration to indicate the
structure of the hands does not preclude
this supposition – knuckles are covered
but not obscured by gloves, or may have
139
been intentionally highlighted with col-
oured bands woven, dyed, or embroidered
into the material. Nevertheless, gloves as a
fashion item are not attested in antiquity.
Isaac D’Israeli, writing on the history of
gloves in his Curiosities of Literature, first
published in the early 1790s, dismisses any
potential reference to the glove in the Bible
as misinterpretation or conjecture, and
the few references to them by the ancient
authors as only serving to highlight that
although gloves were known to people
in antiquity, they were far from common
items. Furthermore, these references also
indicate that gloves were only ever used
for practical purposes: for warmth or pro-
tection. Laertes wears them while garden-
ing to guard against scratches (Hom. Od.
XXIV.230)6, and there is a suggestion that,
at least by Roman times, gloves may also
have been used while picking olives (Varro
Rust. I.55). Xenophon, in speaking of the
decay of habits among the Persians after
the death of King Cyrus, chastises them
for their adoption of luxurious and effemi-
nate ways, including the wearing of gloves
in winter (Xen. Cyr. VIII.8.18). Pliny the
Elder’s shorthand writer is known to have
worn them to ward off the cold so that
he may continue writing (Plin. [Y] Ep.
III.3.V). Athenaeus makes note of a baker
who wears gloves while kneading dough so
as not to contaminate it with perspiration
(Ath. XII.548).
In medieval times gloves became widely
used, but again only for practical reasons,
or for ceremonial purposes. Decorative
gloves existed only to express status or
office in the clergy and amongst the nobil-
ity, and cannot be traced as a fashion item
until the thirteenth century AD, with
reference made to them in the Ancrene
Wisse7 and a guild of glovers being set up
in Paris in 1268. Still, paintings prior to
the fifteenth century rarely show anyone
with five-fingered fashion gloves and it
is not until Victorian times that their use
140
truly blossoms among the general popula-
tion. The idea of a full-length glove with
individual fingers and delicate embroidery
to embellish and protect a woman’s hands
is a more recent conceit, some 2000 years
removed from Iron Age Daunia and wholly
unsuited to a proto-historic people in Med-
iterranean climes. There is little reason for
thinking of the forearm decorations on the
Daunian stelae as gloves.
If not gloves, what else might the deco-
rations represent? That the markings on
the elbows of the same stelae are not a
design in the fabric of the person’s robe
but applied directly to the skin, be it tem-
porarily or permanently, has already been
accepted (Herring 2003; Nava 1980:15).
The idea that the ‘gloves’ are also designs
applied directly to the skin, although three
times hinted at (Moscati 1983:41; Turfa
2007:183; Verger 2008:126, 128), has never
been explored. There is, however, good evi-
dence to indicate that they were tattoos.
A Brief History of Tattoo
The antiquity of tattoo is attested not
only by the designs evident on the skin
of various mummies, such as decorate the
extraordinary ‘Chieftain’ and ‘Ice Maiden’
of Pazyryk, Russia (c. fifth century BC)8,
but by a number of ancient artefacts and
literary sources.9 Figurines incised with
linear and dotted patterns suggest the
practice can be dated back to at least the
Neolithic period in Central Europe and
the Near East. Punuk figurines from the
Bering Strait dating between 300 BC and
1200 AD display tattoos on the face, arms
and breasts (Wardell 1986:nos. 39, 63 and
117), while a carved ivory face from the
Dorset culture is covered with linear tattoos
(Krutak 2007:147). It has been dated to c.
1500 BC and is the oldest known human
portrait from the Arctic. ‘Brides of the
Dead’, statuettes from Egypt buried with
European Journal of Archaeology 14 (1–2) 2011
males to excite sexual desire and ensure
their resurrection also carried tattoos. Red-
figured pottery shows images of Thracian
and Illyrian women decorated by tattoo
(Figs. 5 and 6), a practice which the Greeks
considered barbarian (Gustafson 2000;
Jones 1987, 2000). That it was a custom
of the peoples of Thrace and Illyria is cor-
roborated by, among others, Herodotus
and Strabo (see below). Pliny speaks of it
among the neighbouring Dacians and Sar-
matians (HN XXII.2), Virgil and Valerius
Flaccus among the Agathyrsoi (or Thyrsag-
etae) (Aen. IV.136; Argon. VI.135). Julius
Caesar makes note of the practice further
afield, describing the elaborate tattoos of
the Picts (BGall. V.14). These are just a
handful of the ancient authors who make
mention of it.
Glimmers of the antiquity of tattoo can
also be found in mythology. It is pivotal, for
example, in Inuit creation myths of the sun
and moon (e.g. MacDonald 1998:211–220;
Merkur 1991:163). The legendary Viking
ritual of the ‘blood-eagle’, whereby a con-
quered enemy king was dedicated to Odin
by carving an eagle into his back, alludes
also to tattoo.10 In Polynesia, a region of
the world in which the use of tattooing is
culturally embedded to an extent like no
other, myths involving the practice are
plentiful (see for example those related in
Gell 1993). Such evidence for the antiq-
uity and spread of tattoo abounds.
Lars Krutak, the leading authority on
the anthropology of tattoo, has docu-
mented the tattooing practices of indig-
enous populations throughout the world.
It is a tradition he shows to be rooted deep
in the past that is today, with the onset of
globalization, rapidly vanishing. Over the
millennia, the art of tattoo has ‘travelled
on living bodies’ with a surprising degree
of continuity, so that there is much we can
learn about it in the past from observing
the practice within modern populations
(Krutak 2007:9).
C. Norman – The Tribal Tattooing of Daunian Women 141

Figure 5. Apulian red-figured fragment with a tattooed Thracian nurse. Circle of the Sisyphus
Painter (London British Museum E 509, RVAP 1/94). © Trustees of the British Museum.

Figure 6. Detail from the name-vase of the Lykurgus Painter showing a Thracian woman with extensive
arm and leg tattoos (London, British Museum F 271). © Trustees of the British Museum.
142 European Journal of Archaeology 14 (1–2) 2011

In his survey of modern indigenous soci-

eties, The Tattooing Arts of Tribal Women,
Krutak illustrates the central role that
women have in this ancient custom, both
as tattoo artists and the wearers of tattoos
(Krutak 2007). From the Arctic to Taiwan,
Japan to Iraq, Bosnia to Papua New Guinea,
North Africa to South America, it is time
and time again the women who usually
perform the ritual of applying the tattoos,
and usually apply them to other women.
The marks indicate sexual maturity, ancestral
lineage, tribal affiliations, protect the bearer
and her family from spiritual onslaught,
facilitate sympathetic magic, show religious
beliefs, commemorate the feats of male rela-
tives, attract the attention of men, and even
help distinguish her from males in raids and
the afterlife. In short, the women of the tribe
carry the history, fears, beliefs, and exploits
of her family upon her skin, a canvas to be
read by all.
The role of the tattoo-artist is often
revered, frequently associated with great Figure 7. Iban woman with pala tumpa’ tattoos
powers and magical ability, akin to that (after Krutak 2007:79). © Lars Krutak.
of a shaman. The artist is considered to
be open to spiritual danger as, in trans-
forming and metamorphosing the body among the Skrang Iban, Krutak tells of an
of another, she must channel and capture astonishing link that exists between tattoo
the spirits of the dead, of animals, and the and the ritual of weaving:
cosmos, who from that time onwards, har- Just as a great warrior was tattooed to mark
nessed in the skin, help guard, guide, and his achievements in headhunting, Iban
promote the wearer. Often a close con- women were tattooed as proof of their
accomplishments in weaving. Although
nection exists between tattoo-artistry and
many Skrang Iban women were accom-
weaving and sewing, the two activities plished weavers, gaining prestige and
being complimentary: the performance enhanced status through their labor-inten-
of both tended to have a spiritual aspect sive work, only a few were truly experts,
and, more importantly, tattoos can literally able to produce the sacred pua kumbu’
be ‘stitched’ into the skin with needle and blanket that contained the most powerful
and intricate designs and colors.
thread. It is a method still attested among … Expert weavers … were both socially
the indigenous peoples of North America and ritually marked, like headhunters,
and Eastern Siberia. In Inuit cultures it with small marks on the fingers or other
was usually elderly women who applied the tattoos that covered the thumbs. However,
tattoos, their extensive experience stitch- master weavers, or those who possessed the
highest powers, were afforded another form
ing animal hide for clothing and furnish- of tattoo; one which specifically conveyed
ings making it easier to sew human skin spiritual protection to its owner – the pala
with precision (Krutak 2008). In Borneo, tumpa’ or “head of bracelets” tattoo [Fig. 7].
C. Norman – The Tribal Tattooing of Daunian Women
Although extremely rare today, pala
tumpa’ is both a tattoo and sometimes an
heirloom passed from mother to daugh-
ter. The tattoo takes its name from the
position on the body where it is placed,
usually on the forearm, where successive
rows of traditional bracelets were worn
(Krutak 2006).11
The frequency with which such indige-
nous women are tattooed on the forearms is
striking. It is by far the most commonly tat-
tooed part of their bodies, and the women,
if carrying only one set of tattoos, will
almost invariably carry them here. Krutak
identifies the practice among the Berbers of
Morocco and Algeria, the Paiwan culture in
Taiwan, the Kayans and Iban of Borneo, the
Ainu of Japan, the Kalinga in the Philip-
pines, the King and St Lawrance Islanders
in the Arctic, the Ammassalik of Green-
land, as well as in Polynesia and the Pacific
islands, the Balkans, and Iraq (Fig. 8). Again
archaeological evidence suggests the prac-
tice has a long and wide history. Chimú
mummies from Peru (1100–1470 AD) have
naturalistic and geometric tattooing on the
forearms, recording significant events in
the life of the wearer (Fig. 9). Gold burial
gloves with intricate designs hammered
into them were meant to take these tattoos
into the afterlife. The gloves are paralleled
by the gold hands of the Lambayeque
culture (800–1370 AD) (Fig. 10) and the
earlier Moche ceremonial bone ‘spatulas’ in
the shape of a hand (100–800 AD), both of
which carry extensive tattoos.
Methodology
The history of tattoo in Western cultures is a
relatively new and under-researched area of
inquiry, thanks largely to the less than hon-
orable place the tattoo holds in the modern
West.12 Jane Caplan, in the introduction to
her edited book that makes an important
and credible step in bridging this gap, notes
‘a deficit of knowledge on the [history of
143
tattoo], compared with the societies where its
status has been more secure or its aesthetics
more complex, notably Japan and Polynesia’
(Caplan 2000:xi). In modern Western soci-
eties, until very recently, tattoos have largely
been considered the prerogative of mar-
ginal groups: those outside the dominant
culture, such as criminals, bikers, and sailors.
These groups have, whether consciously or
not, appropriated the punitive and chattel
tattoos that many of their forefathers bore
involuntarily. The use of tattoos to forcibly
and permanently mark and ostracize indi-
viduals who have transgressed or ‘belong’ to
another can be traced right back to Graeco-
Roman times, a habit most likely adopted
from the Persians (Gustafson 2000; Jones
1987, 2000). By instead taking on the marks
willingly, investing them with their own
meaning and language and wearing them
as a badge of honour, people were able to
reclaim their identity from their oppressors
and announce the strong intra-community
bonds that exist within their communities.
These tattoos, being irremovable, represent
a fatalistic acceptance of the wearers’ social
condition and make a ‘virtue of necessity’
(Caplan 2000; Gell 1993:11–18, 27).
Alfred Gell saw two broad sociological
groups that practice tattooing: repressed
or marginalized minorities within a more
complex state system; and pre-literate
tribal societies (Gell 1993:18–23). Roughly
speaking, the two groups correspond to
our current-day understanding of tattoo
in West and East. With so much literary
evidence supporting an overt antipathy to
the practice on behalf of the Greeks and
Romans, and the subsequent flow-on from
this position as outlined above, there is little
wonder that tribal tattoos of a pre-literate
society in Italy may have gone unnoticed.
It is important in new attempts to trace the
history of tattoo in Europe that those of the
marginalized sub-cultures not be the only
focus, but that the tattoo’s social and reli-
gious functions within tribal societies – so
144 European Journal of Archaeology 14 (1–2) 2011

a b c

d e

f g

Figure 8. Examples of indigenous females with

forearm tattoos (after Krutak 2007), a.) Catho-
lic woman, Bosnia; b.) Lawrence Island wom-
en, Bering Strait; c.) Hula girl, Polynesia; d.) Rif Berber woman, Morocco; e.) Kurdish women, Iraq;
f.) Paiwan women, Taiwan; g.) King Island women, Bering Straight; h.) Ainu woman, Japan.
C. Norman – The Tribal Tattooing of Daunian Women
Figure 9. Detail of a Chimú mummy’s forearm
tattoos, c. 1200 AD (after Allison et al. 1981:
231, fig. 5).
Figure 10. Lambayeque gold hand. © Dum-
barton Oaks.
145
clearly visible in the Orient and the South
Pacific – also be considered. Their impor-
tance in this realm is considerable, even if
the evidence for it is furtive.
Because the evidence for tattoo is so ‘mad-
deningly sparse and deficient’, Caplan calls
for a ‘rigorous, multidimensional location
of tattooing’ to string the evidence together
not only chronologically but also to place
it ‘laterally, in the density of its immediate
cultural milieu’ (Caplan 2000:xxiii). For a
region such as Daunia, where hitherto tat-
tooing has not made itself explicit, cross-
cultural analogy, although often criticized
for lacking relevance or being used unscien-
tifically, is the best – perhaps only – key to
revealing and interpreting the practice. To
investigate the possibility for and meaning
of tattoo in Iron Age Daunia I draw on both
cross-cultural diachronic archaeological
and ethnographic comparisons on a global
scale, more often a methodology utilized
to elucidate cultural evolutionary processes
rather than a single societal attribute (Per-
egrine 2004). Although such formal analo-
gies are often unreliable, Hodder outlines
ways to minimize the problem and ensure
greater significance (Hodder 1982:11–27).
That something of a ‘cross-cultural law’ can
be established for the tattooing of women’s
forearms in tribal societies, through the
sheer depth and breadth of examples,
strengthens the argument enormously. Fur-
thermore, it may just be possible to apply
the direct historical approach and dem-
onstrate continuity between the archaeo-
logical and ethnographic data (the past and
the present) by tracking the habit among
peoples once related to the Daunians to the
recent inhabitants of the very same region.
Finally, by taking into account the nature
and cause of this practice in anthropologi-
cally documented societies, by considering
the contexts in which it exists (and which
it does not), we may be able to learn some-
thing of the meaning and circumstance of
tattoo in Iron Age Daunia.
146 European Journal of Archaeology 14 (1–2) 2011

Evidence for Tattoo in Daunia said to have been Iapygian. Three traditions
are recorded by the ancient authors for the
In all this, four factors pertinent to the origins of the Iapygians: that they derived
Daunian stelae stand out: that tattoos from Arcadia, Crete, or Illyria. Writing
would have been well-known in seventh centuries after the fact, a consensus cannot
to fifth century BC Europe; that in tribal even be reached on the precise geographical
societies tattoos were predominantly worn spread of the Iapygians in south-east Italy
by women, that these women more often and whether all the tribes of Apulia shared
than not wore them on their forearms, and this genealogical history. There were strong
that the tattoo artists/bearers were often political motives for retroactively ascribing
skilled textile workers. an Arcadian or Cretan heritage to the Iapy-
I have argued elsewhere that weaving was gians. However, on the basis of archaeolog-
extremely important in Daunian culture ical evidence, an Illyrian origin seems most
(Norman 2009:48–51; Norman 2011. See probable (De Juliis 1988:10–15). Certainly
also D’Ercole 2000). The elaborate designs it is clear that the people of Daunia were
in the textiles of the clothing worn by the in contact with those in the Balkans from
stelae alone indicate this. The remarkable
weaving scenes depicted in the figured ico-
nography confirm it (e.g. SD 585, upper
back) (Fig. 11). That the weaving scene
on the Daunian stelae can be so readily
linked to another in which a local rite of
obvious significance is illustrated – a pro-
cession which I believe culminated in the
dedication or gifting of textiles, possibly
on the occasion of two families meeting
to exchange the bridal dowry – reinforces
just how highly regarded and important
an activity textile production was to the
Daunians. There is little doubt that, as for
most pre-industrial societies, the work was
carried out by women. Some figures in the
weaving scene on SD 585 are even shown
with decorated forearms, although their
long robes, plaits, and the pots some carry
on their heads are enough to mark them
as female. Of the thirteen stelae to carry a
weaving scene, eleven are female and only
one is demonstrably male (SD 748 carries
a single woman working a standing loom
under the right arm). The last is a fragment
too small to be gendered (SD 530).
Of great interest also is a fact already
mentioned in passing: that women of status
from the Balkan regions were known to be
tattooed. The Daunians, along with their Figure 11. SD 585. Back, with weaving scene in
Peucetian and Messapian neighbours, are upper panel (after D’Ercole 2000: 330, fig. 1b).
C. Norman – The Tribal Tattooing of Daunian Women
Mycenaean times, and that a cultural affin-
ity existed between the two regions (Nava
1990). Many posit an influx of individuals
themselves from across the Adriatic Sea in
the late Bronze Age, a time in which sig-
nificant population growth and settlement
redistribution can be seen in Daunia, and
it is possible that these were not the first
from the Balkans to inhabit the area.
Of the Iapygians, Strabo writes that they
were:
a mixed Celtic and Illyrian tribe inhabiting
Mount Albius, which is the termination
of the Alps, [who] reach in one direction
to the Pannonii and the Danube, and in
another to the Adriatic…their armour is
after the Celtic fashion. They are tattooed
like the Illyrian and the Thracian people
(7.5.4).
Herodotus, in speaking of the Thracians,
remarks ‘to be tattooed is a sign of noble
birth, while to bear no such marks is for
the baser sort’ (Herod. V.6.2).13 It was quite
the opposite for the Greeks, and later the
Romans, who thought it a repulsive habit
and used it only to mark slaves or as a form
of punishment and humiliation. A number
of red-figured vases show that the Greeks
did indeed recognize tattooing as a Thra-
cian custom as they used the decorated
body as a means of conveying this ethnic-
ity (Sparkes 1997:141–142; Zimmermann
1980). See, for example, the Thracian nurse
on a fragment of Apulian red figure from
the Circle of the Sisyphus Painter (Fig.
5). The Thracian women shown in myths
depicting Orpheus and the madness of
King Lycurgus are also often tattooed on
the arms and legs (Fig. 6).
Edith Durham’s extraordinary account
of life in the Balkans prior to the First
World War records the practice of tattooing
among the tribes of Bosnia and Albania, just
across the Adriatic Sea from Daunia and
conceivably the place of origin of Daunian
groups (Durham 1928:101–143). Again we
see that it is the women who were mainly
tattooed, and that they bore the tattoos
147
upon their forearms and hands (and on
occasion upon the sternum). The symbols
employed are derived from the sun and the
moon (Fig. 12). Durham believes that the
practice can be traced back to, at the very
least, the time of Herodotus. That it existed
before the Slavic incursion of around the
seventh century AD is attested by the fact
that it is strongly associated with Catholi-
cism and to some extent the Muslims, but
is abhorred by those of the Orthodox faith.
That the art of tattoo was introduced by the
Catholic priests, she dismisses also, on the
grounds that:
we should find only Christian symbols
tattooed, and not complicated designs in
which a cross plays often but a small part
and no other Christian emblem appears.
The most probable explanation is that early
mission priests countenanced and made
use of the [existing] practice because the
cross formed part of the ancient designs
(Durham 1928:104).
The cross, by all counts, has a long
history in the Balkans. Types closely paral-
leling those found on the arms and hands
of Bosnian and Albanian women in the
early twentieth century can be found on
prehistoric graves and in the designs of
Iron Age jewellery. That early Christians
adopted tattooing, especially in the Levant,
is well documented. In this case it seems
the practice was again one of appropria-
tion. Through tattoos a believer physically
announced themselves a slave to God, sub-
servient to him for life. It was a form of
worship that not only honoured Christ and
followed in the footsteps of the Apostle
Paul, who claimed (no doubt metaphori-
cally) to carry the marks of Jesus ‘tat-
tooed’ on his body (Galatians 6.17), but
at the same time represented a rejection
of earthly authority (Gustafson 2000:29;
Jones 2000:5–6, 13)
To explain the longevity and continu-
ity of tattooing practices in the region,
Durham builds a picture of religion in the
Balkans throughout the ages.14 She argues
148
Figure 12. Tattoos on the hands and forearms of Catholic women in Bosnia (after Durham 1928: fig. 4).
that the veneration of sun and moon were
always key factors, from the time of the
early Illyrian gods through to the adop-
tion of Sol Invictus under Aurelian, then
Mithraism (a sun- and moon-worshipping
religion), through to Manichaeism (whose
dogma revolved around a belief in the
antagonistic powers of Light and Dark –
spirit and matter) and Christianity. With
the coming of the Slavs, she says:
The sun-cult was so firmly established
among the Roman-Illyrian population
of the Balkans that when the recently
introduced Christianity was violently
shaken, and in places destroyed by the
Slav invasion, it would be in no way
surprising that the conquered popula-
tion in the outlying parts – deprived
of church and priest by the invaders –
should revert to its ancient beliefs and
the sun-cult should persist … That it
did persist is indicated by Jirecek, who
says that the missionaries from Salo-
nika, who began journeying inland
in the ninth century, “converted the
European Journal of Archaeology 14 (1–2) 2011
people, especially from the worship
of the heavenly bodies” (Durham
1928:115–116).
So entrenched is sun-worship in this
region that in ancient times Apollo, the sun-
god, was considered by some to be Dacian
(e.g. Plin. [E] HN LXXXIV.19.59; Pind.
Ol. VIII. 47). The worship of sun and moon
in these parts was never truly stamped out.
Catholic women in Northern Albania still
wear a silver filigree crescent stitched into the
crown of their hats and designs derived from
sun and moon are carved into the Catholic
tombstones (Durham 1928:121–127).
The Catholic women of Durham’s
time claimed their tattoos were done to
honour Christ, and for beauty. The first
tattoos were usually applied between the
ages of 13 and 16. They were applied by
the elder women, usually on St Joseph’s
day (the spring solstice), and the whole
family came to watch (ibid.:102–104). The
methods and materials used are the same
C. Norman – The Tribal Tattooing of Daunian Women
Figure 13. Matt-painted Daunian olle (jars)
with decorated hands from Ascoli Satriano T.029-
2. Reproduced with the permission of the Ministe-
ro per i Beni e le Attività Culturali – Direzione
Regionale per i Beni Culturali e Pesaggistici della
Puglia – Soprintendenza per i Beni Archeologici
della Puglia).
as those recorded by both the ancient
authors and Krutak. All indications are
that this was a very old practice, originally
linked with a rite associated with fertility
and the coming of age.
Taking into consideration the ethno-
graphic and archaeological data, it becomes
apparent that all decoration on the arms
of the Daunian stelae is very probably
meant to represent tattoos. That the pat-
terns down the forearms are simple, more
in line with those produced via weaving
or sprang, is slightly perplexing. However,
limestone is not an easy medium in which
to incise elaborate curvilinear designs
and few are to be found elsewhere on the
stelae. Moreover, gloves are not known
in the material record of pre-Roman
Italy. Definitely none were found among
the textiles recovered from the graves at
Verucchio (Stauffer 2004; von Eles 2002).
These graves are roughly contemporary
with the Daunian stelae and contain items
of high prestige, including many examples
149
of ceremonial clothing. If we could expect
to find gloves in Italy for this period, it
would be here. Nor are gloves ever seen
worn by the natives depicted on South
Italian red-figured pottery. Yet the handles
on Daunian matt-painted olle (jars) which
are clearly molded to represent hands are
decorated with geometric patterning (as is
the entire vessel) (Fig. 13) and the woman
painted on a wall of the famous late fourth
century chamber tomb from Arpi has pat-
terning on her arms (Fig. 14). The woman
rides a quadriga (four-horse chariot) and
has been interpreted as a priestess. The
outside of her right arm is decorated with
vertical lines and a plain upper arm band,
while the interior of her right is decorated
with horizontal lines. Although dating
some two centuries later than the Daunian
stelae, the resemblance is irrefutable.
Nonetheless, it is still difficult to know if
gloves or tattoos were intended – perhaps
the horizontal lines of the bent inner arm
are supposed to show not inked lines but
folds in the fabric? Likewise for the olle,
we cannot know exactly what was being
shown. But, if ever proved to be gloves, we
might consider them to have developed out
of the tattooing tradition, the patterns in
the fabrics replacing those that were once
applied directly into the skin. It is interest-
ing to note, either way, that the decorated
arm is a tradition portrayed only by the
local indigenes, never by the Greeks.
A passage by Lycophron, noted by
Herring (2003:131–132), implies tattooing
was indeed practiced by Daunian woman,
albeit upon the face rather than the arms.
In it Cassandra foresees her own fate,
bought upon her by her unofficial union
with Agamemnon:
But the chiefs of the Daunians shall build
for me a shrine on the banks of Salpe.
And those also who inhabit the cities of
Dardanus, beside the waters of the lake.
And when girls wish to escape the yoke
of maidens, refusing for bridegrooms
men adorned with locks such as Hector
150
wore, but with defect of form or reproach
of birth, they will embrace my image
with their arms, winning a mighty shield
against marriage, having clothed them in
the garb of the Erinyes and dyed their faces
with magic simples. By those staff-carrying
women I shall long be called an immortal
goddess (Lycoph. Alex., II. 1128–1140.
Trans. Mair 1921).
Although it is unlikely there was a cult
to Cassandra in Iron Age Daunia, the line
regarding the magic simples dyed upon
the faces of the women is so remarkable
as to suggest it was genuinely a custom
associated with the Daunians. Lycho-
phron perhaps drew upon knowledge of
this custom, something which would have
been considered quite exotic and ‘other’,
adapting it for his own purposes to suit a
Hellenized audience.
European Journal of Archaeology 14 (1–2) 2011
Figure 14. Detail from the
wall of a tomb from Arpi
showing a woman with de-
corated forearms. Late fourth
century BC. Foggia Museo
Civico. Reproduced with
the permission of the Mini-
stero per i Beni e le Attività
Culturali – Direzione Re-
gionale per i Beni Culturali
e Pesaggistici della Puglia –
Soprintendenza per i Beni
Archeologici della Puglia.
Tattoo and the Daunian Stelae
Returning to the stelae, it is of significant
interest that, to my knowledge, no colour-
ing ever accompanies the incisions made
for the elbow, forearm and hand decora-
tion. When paint traces are visible it is
always the white used on the bare upper
arms and as the background colour in all
other panels created by the geometric
borders of the robes.15 On SD 1114, for
example, the patterning on the robes are
clearly further elaborated with the use of
red and black. The necklace, fibulae, fibula
pendants, and skirt pendants are all filled in
with red. Even the strings that support the
skirt pendants are further picked out with
red. If the marking on the forearms were
supposed to be gloves, surely the entire area
C. Norman – The Tribal Tattooing of Daunian Women
would also be coloured. That they are not
strongly suggests the arms are entirely bare
and that the lines represent marks applied
directly to the skin.
Overall, the balance of the evidence
strongly suggests that all decoration on
the arms of the female stelae do not rep-
resent gloves, for which no archaeological
substantiation or logical argument can be
found. But the possibility that the decora-
tion was temporary (paint, henna, charcoal,
dye, etc) rather than permanent (tattoo,
brands, scarification) must be entertained.
When discussing the elbow markings,
although Herring admits a slight prefer-
ence for the former, he does not definitively
conclude either way. The distinction makes
a significant difference when considering
meaning. If temporary, it is more likely the
marks were applied for or during a ritual,
either to indicate that person’s role or the
event in which they were involved. If the
marks were permanent, and thus constantly
available to be ‘read’ over the life-span of
the wearer, their meaning could not have
been passing or secret. In view of the analo-
gies discussed above, it is my opinion that
all decoration on the arms of the stelae rep-
resented permanent markings, specifically
tattoo – and if temporary, that it stemmed
directly from that practice, in which case
the meaning behind them would remain
largely intact.
If we accept that the Daunian women
were tattooed, we must ask why. For the
elbows, Herring believes, no doubt cor-
rectly, that the ‘symbols conveyed some sort
of message that would have been under-
stood by other members of the society’:
that they were culturally embedded and not
a personal whimsy (Herring 2003:127). As
Gell (1993:2–7) puts it, ‘tattooing played
a distinctive part in social reproduction’,
that is in ‘the production of ‘successors’
who have all the attributes (moral qualities,
status attributes, possessions, titles etc) they
should have’ as prescribed by the repro-
151
ductive agencies (individuals and groups
sharing a common reproductive interest).
Gell notes – in loose terms – that, the less
stratified a society, the more common and
elaborate the tattoos. The general theory
behind this is that by ‘modifying the body,
tattooing made possible the realization
of particular type of “subjection” which in
turn allowed for the elaboration and per-
petuation of social and political relation-
ships’ that would otherwise be propagated
through the institutions of a hierarchical
society (ibid.). Altering the body itself is
a powerful tool as it also alters a person’s
opinion of themselves: it adjusts the ego,
and thus prepares the wearer for the tasks
required of them as dictated by their socio-
cultural milieu. In a society such as Daunia,
which does not appear to have been heavily
stratified, it is unlikely that female tattoo-
ing was simply decorative, but rather a way
of conveying and controlling specific soci-
etal messages and constructs.
Herring raises and dismisses a number
of possibilities for the meaning behind the
symbols on the elbows: that they marked
ethnicity, social ranking, age, initiation cer-
emonies, ritual status, or medical trauma.
He concludes that the:
markings seem more likely to reflect
within-group distinctions among the
social élite, rather than between-group
distinctions at the inter- or intra-site
level. It seems probable that the symbols
were indicators either of familial relation-
ships, by blood or marriage, or of special
status, like being a priestess. Although it
cannot be ruled out altogether, it seems
less likely that body art was used to indi-
cate social ranking among élite women
(Herring 2003:130).
Herring’s tentative final proposition, that
the marks indicated familial allegiances,
is at first glance tempting but ultimately
problematic. There is only a limited range
of symbols used on the elbows: a cross, a
swastika, a square or lozenge, a star burst,
or a small indented square. I count 78 stelae
with elbow decorations (to Herring’s 45).
152
Only one has the starburst (SD 869: Fig.
4g) and only six the indented square (e.g.
SD 862). A further 24 are not decorated
at all. Meanwhile SD 222 carries a cross
on one elbow and a swastika on the other,
which would suggest she belonged to two
families at once (a fact Herring fails to
notice) (Fig. 4a).
More worrying is the pattern that
emerges when the elbow marks are cross-
referenced with Nava’s typology. The cross
appears on all but type IV stelae, while the
square/lozenge and indented square are
exclusive to that type. The swastika is rep-
resented across the board, but with a sig-
nificant upsurge in relevant frequency for
type IV. If Nava’s typology reflects a linear
chronological development, as it largely
seems to, this distribution negates the pos-
sibility that the markings represent family
groups.
Similarly, for the forearm decora-
tion, a clear trend to emerge is that the
vertical rectangles are exclusive to Type
IV. When the meander type is broken
down into its variants, it can also be seen
that the meander with no accompanying
central line or string of lozenges is also
almost exclusive to Type IV. Disregarding
those with horizontal lines and rectangles
running across the forearm, which are very
uncommon, all other designs are spread
almost equally across the typology. The
clustering of certain design types within a
specific period of time points to the choice
of tattoo being susceptible to fashion and
not governed wholly by tradition.
I propose instead that the tattoos on the
arms of the Daunian women were done for
the exact same reason that Krutak docu-
ments in so many indigenous populations
and that Durham suggests is at the root of
the practice in the Balkans: they are done
at the onset of menstruation and indicate
that a girl has become a woman, that she is
of age and is fertile.16 The actual process of
being tattooed would no doubt have been
European Journal of Archaeology 14 (1–2) 2011
one of enormous import in a woman’s life
and inextricably tied to religious beliefs. It
is likely certain elements of design were
handed down from one generation to the
next, thus also affirming ancestry and tribal
affiliations. The tattoos were probably done
over a period of time, in a series of separate
sittings. The sittings would no doubt have
been steeped in ritual and possibly timed to
coincide with significant moments in the
seasonal or lunar calendar, thereby hon-
ouring the girl’s passage from one stage of
life to another as well as that of the earth
and moon. This is reflected by the symbols
used — the starburst, swastika, and cross
are all sun/moon emblems. The application
of the tattoos would have been very painful
and the risk of infection high, making the
rewards all the more meaningful. Through
the permanent transformation of the body,
such women in indigenous populations
become the bearers of the personal and col-
lective experience. They carry the cumula-
tive history of their family upon their skin
and thereby embody cultural pride. They are
seen to be able to mediate between ances-
tral, human and environmental elements.
At core, the tattoos reinforce the idea
that women, through the ability to repro-
duce, “have responsibility and are directly
involved in the workings of the universe”
(Krutak 2007:230).
Acknowledgements
My thanks to Jean-Paul Descœudres, Mar-
garet C. Miller, and E. G. D. Robinson for
their constructive advice during the writing
of this paper, and for their continued
support. I am thankful to Philippe della
Casa and Constanze Witt for so readily
accepting my paper into their session on
‘Aspects of Embodiment: Tattoos and
Body Modification in the Ancient World’
in the 2010 EAA meeting, upon which this
article is based. It was a remarkable and
C. Norman – The Tribal Tattooing of Daunian Women
fruitful experience to present my findings
in front of such a learned audience in what
is a relatively new but fast-growing field of
inquiry in archaeology. I am deeply hon-
oured to have been awarded the Student
Prize for this paper by the Board of the
EAA. Finally, I am indebted to Robin
Skeates for his kind and ready counsel in
the ultimate stages of bringing it to pub-
lication, and to the EJA reviewers for their
insightful comments.
I am grateful to the Dorothy Cameron
Fellowship and the Carlyle Greenwell
Research Fund of the University of Sydney
for the substantial grants which have
allowed me to pursue my research.
Notes
1. See Nava (1980), where the vast majority of the
Daunian stelae are published. All ‘SD’ numbers
in my text refer to this catalogue. Nava 1988
is an edited book which includes a collection
of the most important articles written on the
stelae by Silvio Ferri, the first scholar to take an
interest in these monuments.
2. Although there are over 100 heads known
for the stelae, only two have ever been asso-
ciated with their bodies: SD 222 and a small
intact stela only recently unearthed (De Juliis
2009:81, fig. 27). Both these stelae are female
and have conical heads. Much work is still to
be done in this area, but initial investigations
based on the breaks/type of join at the neck and
the existence/absence of a necklace strongly
suggest that female heads are conical and male
heads spherical. A notable exception is the
small spherical head in the Musée Royal de
Mariemont, Belgium, which can be considered
female on the grounds that it carries a necklace
(Van Compernolle 1986:46).
3. De Juliis 2009 gathers together some excep-
tions, publishing a number of small bronze
anthropomorphic and zoomorphic pendants
and figurines, matt-painted figurines, and
matt-painted vessels decorated with a range of
molded protomes, handles, and bodies, as well as
painted figures and animals. Not including the
famous Catarinella askos, pictured on the back
cover, the images tend to be static and lacking
in complex narrative (disregarding a few exam-
ples which should be taken with caution). The
volume is a slim one, with a substantial chapter
dedicated to the stelae, and although it does not
153
claim to present all figured art from Daunia it
does reflect how rare and sporadic its produc-
tion was. The red figure pottery from Canosa is
not produced until the fourth century, well after
the stelae had ceased to be made. The same is
true of the cover image, a ‘priestess’ from a tomb
painting in Arpi (discussed below).
4. An additional argument for considering all
‘stelae with ornamentation’ to be of the same
gender is the lack of variation in their orna-
mentation. Although the style of individual
items may change from stela to stela depend-
ing on the time and location of its production,
the array and distribution of the items afforded
them do not.
5. SD numbers refer to the catalogue in Nava
1980. SD numbers connected by an addition
symbol denote fragments of the one stela that
have since been joined. Many of these joins
were made by the author and are thus far
unpublished.
6. The word used, χειρῐδάς, can alternatively been
translated as ‘long sleeves’.
7. Also called the Ancrene Riwle, the ‘Rule for
Anchoresses’ is a spiritual guide for young
women written in Middle English between
1225 and 1240. Part 8, ‘Of Domestic Matters’,
includes a paragraph (229) on appropriate dress
with the line ‘Have neither ring, nor broach,
nor ornamented girdle, nor gloves, nor any such
thing that is not proper for you to have’, sug-
gesting that fashion gloves could by this period
be worn by women in the general population.
8. Tattooed mummies are not uncommon, the
practice obviously being old and widespread.
It is evidenced on mummies from Eurasia (e.g.
Őtzi, the famous naturally-preserved mummy
found in the alps between Austria and Italy [c.
3300–3200 BC], and the ‘bog bodies’ of Scan-
dinavia, Great Britain and Ireland), from Africa
(e.g. the ‘Mummy of Amunet’, a priestess of
Hathor from Thebes [Dynasty XI, c. 2100 BC]
and the male mummies from the tomb of Seti
I [c. 1300 BC]), from South America (e.g. the
‘Lady of Cao’, a Moche mummy from El Brujo
[c. 450 AD], and ‘Kiko Rontoy’, a thousand
year-old Chancey mummy, both from Peru),
and also from Japan. The tattoos on some of
these mummies, such as Ötzi, were clearly
applied for medical purposes.
9. The reading of markings on figurines etc as
tattoos can of course in itself be called into
question, as such an evaluation relies entirely
on interpretation. In these cases the reading
has usually been made based not only on the
appearance of the artefact, but because tattoo
is known within the culture that produced it,
either on preserved skin, from written accounts
or through ethnographic evidence.
154
10. E.g. Saxo Grammaticus, The History of Danes,
IX; Snorri Sturluson, Heimskringla. The History
of the Kings of Norway. Saga of Harald Fairhair,
XXX.
11. Among the Iban, it is fact the men who are the
tattoo-artists. Elsewhere in Borneo it is usually
the women.
12. The word ‘tattoo’ itself comes from the Poly-
nesian ‘tatu’ or ‘tatau’ and was only introduced
in the West in the eighteenth century. Prior
to this time there were few specific words in
Europe to describe the practice. Most often
words suggestive of ‘pricking’ or ‘stamping’
were utilized instead, such as ‘stigmata’.
13. Ancient references to tattooing practices
among the Thracians are numerous. For further
references and discussion see Jones 1987:145.
14. It would be easy to dismiss Durham’s work as
romantic and lacking some of the finesse of
modern anthropological studies, yet this does
not seem to be the case. Although not for-
mally trained as an anthropologist, Durham
was widely respected for her writings and ulti-
mately made a Fellow of the Royal Anthropo-
logical Institute. Her knowledge of the Balkans
was deep, having spent over 20 years travelling
and living in the region, especially in Albania.
The Albania of the early twentieth century was
remote, cut off geographically, politically and
socially, so that the customs and belief systems
she recorded were those of peoples long isolated
and insulated from outside influences. Caplan
agrees there is a case for the continuity of tat-
tooing in this region, as documented by Durham
(Caplan 2000:xvii). A similar continuity can be
observed for the Christians of the Levant and
Egypt (Caplan 2000:xvii; Jones 2000:6, 13).
15. Male stelae sometimes have red arms, e.g. SD
592 and SD 748.
16. It is worth noting that of the seven female stelae
with bare arms or that wear only bracelets, only
three are preserved to below the waist. Two of
these do not wear an apron (SD 64+634 and
SD 985+1032). On the third, Trani 1 (Nava
1988:195, figs. 212–213), what is possibly the
very top of an apron is just discernable. This
is a regional stela and unusual in many ways.
Disregarding the later, more abstracted, stelae
on which many items of costume are no longer
portrayed (Nava’s Type V), only four female
stelae do not wear an apron. Of the two not
already known to also have bare arms, neither
are preserved above the waist (SD 365 and SD
887+1062). It is very rare for a female to have
bare arms or wear no apron. That the two con-
ditions are linked strongly reinforces the theory
that Daunian girls were tattooed at the onset of
menstruation. The apron of the Daunian stelae,
I believe, can be identified with an item of tra-
European Journal of Archaeology 14 (1–2) 2011
ditional costume steeped in history and custom
that females wore to denote they were fertile (or
married). It is known also in the Albanian high-
lands, where it is called a ‘panjora’ or ‘përparje’.
Such an apron is recorded in many cultures, and
especially in Eastern Europe (Gjergji 1986). It
might very well be that SD 64+634 and SD
985+1032, along with all female stelae with no
aprons or tattoos, represent pre-pubescent girls.
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European Journal of Archaeology 14 (1–2) 2011
Biographical Note
Camilla Norman is a PhD student at the
University of Sydney. Since completing
her BA(Hons) in Classical Archaeology at
the same institution in 1994, Camilla has
worked on excavations throughout South-
East Italy, as well as in Greece and Jordan.
Whilst in Italy in 1996 she was introduced
to the Daunian stelae, forming a strong and
enduring fascination for them which ulti-
mately led her to begin writing a doctoral
thesis on the subject. She is the Production
Manager of Mediterranean Archaeology and
Project Officer of the Australian Archaeo-
logical Institute at Athens (Sydney).
Address: Centre for Classical and Near
Eastern Studies of Australia, The Uni-
versity of Sydney, NSW 2006, Australia.
[email: camilla.norman@sydney.edu.au]
Résumé
Le tatouage tribal des femmes de Daunia
En utilisant des analogies ethnographi-
ques et archéologiques interculturelles, cet
article propose une nouvelle interprétation
d’un attribut sociétal spécifique représenté
sur les stèles de l’âge du fer de Daunia. En
effet, on prétend que les dessins sur les
avant-bras des stèles féminines ne repré-
sentent non pas des gants, mais des tatous.
En remettant en question une seule convic-
tion ancienne au sujet des stèles, on sou-
haite souligner un très important principe
de méthode : le besoin d’identifier et d’exa-
miner le contexte socioculturel d’une image
ou d’un artefact. Trop longtemps, les stèles
de Daunia ont été considérées par des yeux
hellénisés. Contrairement à d’autres socié-
tés italiques de cette période, les Dauniens
semblent avoir été assez peu influencés par
les Grecs et autres méditerranéens, ce qui
fait penser que durant l’âge du fer les habi-
C. Norman – The Tribal Tattooing of Daunian Women
tants de cette région ont conservé une forte
identité ethnique. Comme il n’existe guère
de témoignages de leur vie sociale et reli-
gieuse provenant d’autres sources, le seul
espoir de vraiment comprendre ce peuple
repose sur l’interprétation correcte de ses
stèles, ce qui ne pourra être réalisé que par
le solide établissement de ces monuments
au sein d’un milieu adriatique. Translation
by Isabelle Gerges.
Zusammenfassung
Die Stammestattoos daunischer Frauen
Unter der Annahme, dass Motive auf den
Unterarmen weiblicher Darstellungen
nicht Handschuhe, sondern Tattoos dar-
stellen, bietet dieser Beitrag mittels kul-
turübergreifender ethnographischer und
archäologischer Analogien einen neuen
Interpretationsansatz eines besonderen
gesellschaftlichen Attributes, das auf den
eisenzeitlichen ‘Daunischen Stelen’ darge-
157
stellt ist. Mit dem Hinterfragen einer ein-
zelnen, lange vertretenen Meinung zu den
Stelen, soll ein sehr bedeutendes metho-
disches Prinzip hervorgehoben werden:
die Notwendigkeit, den sozio-kulturellen
Kontext eines Bildes oder Artefaktes zu
identifizieren und zu untersuchen. Zu
lange sind die Daunischen Stelen durch
‘hellenisierte’ Augen betrachtet worden.
Im Gegensatz zu anderen italischen
Gesellschaften dieser Periode scheinen
die Daunier von den Griechen und dem
weiteren mediterranen Einfluss größten-
teils unbeeinflusst geblieben zu sein, was
darauf hindeutet, dass die eisenzeitlichen
Bewohner der Region eine starke ethni-
sche Identität bewahrt haben. Aufgrund
der begrenzten anderen Zeugnisse ihres
sozialen und religiösen Lebens ruht die
größte Hoffnung, diese Menschen richtig
verstehen zu können, im korrekten Lesen
ihrer Stelen, was ausschließlich dadurch
erreicht werden kann, diese Monumente
fest im adriatischen Kulturmilieu zu ver-
ankern. Translation by Heiner Schwarzberg.