Zootherapy in Archaeology: The Case of the Fallow Deer

(Dama dama dama)

Author(s): Holly Miller and Naomi Sykes
Source: Journal of Ethnobiology, 36(2):257-276.
Published By: Society of Ethnobiology
DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.2993/0278-0771-36.2.257
URL: http://www.bioone.org/doi/full/10.2993/0278-0771-36.2.257

BioOne (www.bioone.org) is a nonprofit, online aggregation of core research in the

biological, ecological, and environmental sciences. BioOne provides a sustainable online
platform for over 170 journals and books published by nonprofit societies, associations,
museums, institutions, and presses.
Your use of this PDF, the BioOne Web site, and all posted and associated content
indicates your acceptance of BioOnes Terms of Use, available at www.bioone.org/page/
terms_of_use.
Usage of BioOne content is strictly limited to personal, educational, and non-commercial
use. Commercial inquiries or rights and permissions requests should be directed to the
individual publisher as copyright holder.

BioOne sees sustainable scholarly publishing as an inherently collaborative enterprise connecting authors, nonprofit
publishers, academic institutions, research libraries, and research funders in the common goal of maximizing access to
critical research.
Journal of Ethnobiology 36(2): 257276 2016

ZOOTHERAPY IN ARCHAEOLOGY: THE CASE OF THE

FALLOW DEER (Dama dama dama)

Holly Miller1* and Naomi Sykes1

The abundant anthropological and historical evidence for animal-based medicine, or zootherapy, suggests
that animals are, and have always been, perceived as important components in maintaining human health
and well-being. Despite being interwoven into every aspect of life, from food medicines to ritual practice and
everyday human-animal interactions, zootherapies are widely considered invisible in the archaeological record,
perhaps because of their organic nature, the method of remedy preparation, or potentially because of their sheer
ubiquity. An alternative explanation is that archaeologists are just not viewing the evidence through an
appropriate theoretical lens. This article sets out to examine whether archaeologists might make a greater
contribution to our understanding of ancient zootherapy. As a case study, it draws particularly on evidence
pertaining to the European fallow deer (Dama dama dama) an exotic species that is well represented in classical
mythology and iconography and appears to have been attributed with magico-religious medicinal qualities.
Indeed, here we argue that their perceived magico-medicinal value may even have been the prime mover in
their human-instigated spread across Europe.

Keywords: zootherapy, fallow deer, archaeology, medicine, animal remains

Introduction

The World Health Organization (WHO 1993) estimates that today, about 80%
of the worlds population (six billion people), rely on animals, their parts, and
products as a method of primary health care. The use of animals to diagnose
and treat illness is known as zootherapy and is particularly common across Asia
(Bensky and Gamble 1986; Dev 2001; Mahawar and Jaroli 2008), Africa (Abbink
1993; El-Kamali 2000; Low 2011; Morris 1998; Rekdal 1999), Latin America (Alves
and Rosa 2005, 2013; Alves et al. 2011a, 2011b, 2013; Costa-Neto 2004; Ferreira et al
2012; Jacobo-Salcedo et al. 2011 Martinez 2013; Oliveira et al 2010; Walker 2010),
and the Middle East (Lev 2003; Rosner 1995).
Zootherapy can take many forms. Live or dead animals may be used in ther-
apies, rites, and rituals, with animal-derived products consumed (either orally
or through any of the senses) or worn as personal adornment. The motivations
behind these different practices are equally varied, as they are employed for pro-
tective, preventative, diagnostic, or curative reasons (Alves and Rosa 2005; Insoll
2011). Zootherapy does not form a single discrete group of medicinal practices;
rather it pervades throughout daily life, economics, and diet and is often bound
up with religious and spiritual beliefs. This is especially because, in many cultures
that practice zootherapy, disease, illness, and other misfortunes are believed
to have divine origins (Abbink 1993; Kee 1986; Ogden 2014; Walker 2010).
For instance, the Piaroa of the Amazon believe that diseases are sent by the Spirit

1
Department of Archaeology, University of Nottingham, Nottingham, NG7 2RD
*Corresponding author (Holly.Miller@Nottingham.ac.uk)
258 MILLER and SYKES Vol. 36, No. 2

Masters, so they keep tamed parrots to sing away illness (Walker 2010). In other
cases, animals may be used to invoke the supernatural for diagnostic or curative
interventions. For example, the Meen of Ethiopia sacrifice livestock when a
member of their community appears mortally ill. It is believed that at the point
of sacrifice the animal becomes a medium for communication with the spirits
who are called upon to leave a message in the animals intestines. This message
can then be understood through the process of haruspication (entrail reading),
a form of medical prognosis (Abbink 1993).
Sacrifice and haruspication are widespread and important aspects of
zootherapy, but after death, animal bones, meat, and other products (fat, hair,
shell) take on equally important medicinal roles (e.g., Lev 2003). It is difficult
to classify such practices within a modern, western notion of medicine, but
many of the explanations seem consistent with Frazers (1993:12) concept of
sympathetic magic, which he subdivided into a further two categories: homeo-
pathic magic and contagious magic. In homeopathic magic, like produces like;
for example, people in Siberia use a woodpeckers beak to cure toothache because
there is a point of view from which a woodpeckers beak and a mans tooth can be
seen as going together (Lvi-Strauss 1966:9). For similar reasons, in Brazilian
zootherapy, a centipede is taken for pains of the leg, as they clearly excel at gener-
ating lower limbs (Christman 2008; Costa-Neto 2004). Contagious magic holds
that contact between things can have a lasting effect, even at a distance of time
and space. For example, in Brazil, a young child can be imbued with the sure-
footedness of a donkey by scrubbing its knee in the animals footprint (Alves et al.
2011a). Amongst the KhoeSn of Southern Africa, ostrich shell is used to create
protective beads for children, on the basis that the bead captures the potency
of the ostrich and passes the birds strength onto the wearer (Low 2011). For
the KhoeSn, ostrich egg shell is not only worn for amuletic reasons, but also
powdered for medicinal consumption. This is because the shell is deemed to
have cooling properties and is seen as a powerful treatment for hot fevers
(Low 2011).
The concept of hot/cold and wet/dry maladies and their corresponding treat-
ments is one of the most widely accepted medical belief systems in the world
(see papers in Manderson 1987; Pool 1987). Across cultures, disease and illness
are considered in hot/cold and wet/dry terms, with zootherapeutic cures requiring
the consumption of animal products with opposing characteristics to restore
balance. The global occurrence of such medicinal theories, and the fact that
there is great geographical variability in what is considered hot, cold, wet,
or dry, suggests that these concepts emerged independently in different areas
of the world (Anderson 1987).
The most influential branch of the belief in hot/cold and wet/dry imbalances
that of humoral medicinehas a clear line of descent that can be traced back
through early modern, medieval, and Roman scholars of medicine to the Hippo-
cratic Corpus of the fifth century BC (e.g., Arikha 2007; Manderson 1987; Nutton
2012). Markedly similar humoral concepts of medicine can be found in even earlier
documents (c. 1600 BC), such as the Indian Rigveda (Arikha 2007) and the Diagnos-
tic Handbook from Mesopotamia (King 2001), as well as the c. 900 BC Chinese
Shih Ching (Kong and But 1985). This indicates a common ancestry whereby
2016 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 259

schools of medicine had a mix of influences, transmitted along the Silk Roads
(Ogden 2014; Subbarayappa 2001; Touwaide and Appetiti 2013).
All of these ancient texts contain remedies that reveal the permeability of
medicine and how human well-being, both in the past and present, cannot be
separated from broader aspects of lifestyle, diet and, in particular, religion and
supernatural forces (Nutton 2012). The magico-religious links to medicine are
unsurprising because, as with the modern Piaroa, illnesses and cures have,
throughout time, been perceived as having divine origins. For the Minoans
(c. 35001700 BC) and Mycenaeans (c. 16001100 BC), the gods had ultimate power
over human health and it was to them that disease was often attributed (Faraone
1993; King 2001). The divine nature of disease is also alluded to in Homeric epics
(c. 850 BC); for example, in the opening of The Iliad1, the deities Apollo and Artemis
shoot disease-causing arrows into men and women, respectively. The connection
between medicine, natural philosophy, and religion continued into the fifthfourth
centuries BC, as evidenced by writings such as Hippocrates On the Sacred Disease2.
As such, magical rites and preparations were not alternatives to medicines; they
were the corporal aide through which healing manifested, if it was the will of
the gods (Gesler 1993; Parker 1983).
Through the course of the Greco-Roman period, scholars of medicine
attempted to separate the healing arts from magic and religion (Carrick 2001),
but it is clear that such distinctions were difficult to draw (e.g., Baker 2013; Nutton
2012). Pliny the Elder, a Roman author of the first century AD, was amongst the
most outspoken objectors to magico-religious therapies, in particular the quackery
pedaled by itinerant Greek physicians (Kee 1986). Yet his Natural Histories
are replete with animal-based cures that are indistinguishable from the very
sympathetic and homeopathic magic that he attributed to fraudulent medics
(Kee 1986). In his Natural Histories3, Pliny explains that:
there is no place where that holy Mother of all things did not distribute
remedies for the healing of mankind, so that even the very desert was
made a drug store, at every point occurring wonderful examples of that
well-known antipathy and sympathy.
Evidence for Plinys subscription to sympathetic magic can be seen in his rem-
edy for rabies, which, in common with homeopathic magic, prescribed eating the
liver of the biting dog4. This same remedy is given by Dioscorides in his de Materia
Medica5, although his suggested treatment contains the added advice of tying
a tooth from the biting animal to the arm, a cure more consistent with contagious
magic6. The works of both Pliny and Dioscorides contain extensive evidence for
the importance of zootherapy in the Roman world, with animal products pre-
scribed in special diets, pharmaceutical concoctions, votives for intercessions,
wards against the occult, spirits and astral influences, and in efforts to placate
the gods. Similar animal-based medicinal practices are seen in ancient cultures
around the world. Zootherapy figured large in texts from ancient Egypt (Bryan
and Smith 1874; Ebbell 1937; Halberstein 2005; Lev 2003; Nunn 2002), Mesopotamia
(Cragg and Newman 2001a, 2001b; Lev 2003; Nakanishi 1999), China (Bensky
and Gamble 1986; Kong and But 1985; Nowell et al. 1992; Subbarayappa 2001),
Persia (Subbarayappa 2001), and India (Dev 2001; Mahawar and Jaroli 2008; Pool
260 MILLER and SYKES Vol. 36, No. 2

1987; Scarpa 1981; Subbarayappa 2001), as well as amongst Amerindian groups

across North and South America (Alves et al. 2007; Silva et al. 2004).
Given how widespread animal-based medicine is in societies both past and
present, it seems inconceivable that the remnants of zootherapy are not preserved
in abundance within the archaeological record.

Finding Zootherapy in Archaeology

Archaeological studies of animal-derived medicines are rare, a point not only

made by Bakers (2013:9) The Archaeology of Medicine in the Greco-Roman World but
also exemplified by the same volumes limited zooarchaeological discussion. The
lack of attention given to medicine by zooarchaeologists has been noted by Russell
(2012:39294), who argues that evidence is difficult to find, although she admits
that few people have looked. Sykes (2014b:12930) proposed that the apparent
elusiveness of zootherapy in archaeology may, in part, be related to the process
of converting animal materials into medicine; in modern zootherapy, animals are
transformed into medicines mainly through the grinding up and consumption of
burned bone (Insoll 2011). Classical texts similarly refer to the ashing and powder-
ing of animal products7,8 (Ogden 2014). This means that the very act of converting
an object into medicine was destructive, not to mention the fact that the ultimate
aim was often consumption. Little would therefore be detectable in the archaeolog-
ical record.
Beyond this, our inability to find archaeological evidence of medicine is almost
certainly an artifice of our own worldview, which has the expectation that medi-
cine and medical practices are distinct from other forms of food/drink or behavior.
However, as has been shown above, across cultures past and present, life is seldom
so neatly compartmentalized and it seems likely that for many ancient societies, all
animal-derived foods, objects, or interactions had the potential to be conceptual-
ized and used medicinally. The possibility that any animal-derived product
may represent medicine offers another possible explanation why such materials
are overlooked archaeologicallythey are obscured by their omnipresence. That
said, modern zootherapies often preferentially target the remains of animals that
are exotic or wild, as geographical distance is equated with supernatural distance,
and that healing power increases with cultural remoteness (Helms 1993; Rekdal
1999). It is certainly interesting to note that, given the greater availability of domes-
tic animals, both Dioscorides and Pliny place comparatively more emphasis on the
medicinal value of wild and exotic animals. From an archaeological perspective,
these animal categories also tend to be highlighted in the zooarchaeological litera-
ture, especially exotica (e.g., Lepetz and Yvinec 2002; Mackinnon 2006; Prummel
1977; Ryder 1975; Schmid 1965; Sykes 2012), and they would therefore seem to
offer a logical focus for an archaeological exploration of zootherapy.
As a case-study, this article sets out to examine archaeological evidence for
the use of deer in Greco-Roman medicine. Cervidae (deer family)animals so
iconic of the wildare among the mammal species most frequently used in
zootherapies across the world and have been labeled the ultimate medicinal ani-
mal (Kong and But 1985). Their body parts, in particular their antler, antler velvet,
2016 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 261

and penises, are important ingredients in zootherapy, especially in China where

the medicinal association with deer dates back to at least 900 BC (Fletcher 2011;
Kong and But 1985). The Shen Nung Pentsao Ching text (200 AD) states that velvet
antler (pantui) tastes sweet and its property is warm, the last point suggesting
a link to humoral medicine (Kong and But 1985:312). The text goes on to list ail-
ments that pantui treats, including conditions of the teeth and epilepsy (Kong
and But 1985). Interestingly, Pliny also recommends the use of deer antler to treat
epilepsy and tooth ache9, the similarity again indicating a shared tradition of
knowledge.
While this paper will at times consider deer in general, it focuses specifically
on the role of the European fallow deer (Dama dama dama) in medicinal practices
in antiquity. This species is not only wild, but is also non-native to much of
Europe, potentially rendering it more powerful medicinally as an exotic animal,
as well as more visible in the archaeological record.

The Case of the Fallow Deer

The European fallow deer is characterized by a spotty coat and, in the

males, palmate antlers and a distinctive brush-like penis sheath not found in other
European cervids (Chapman and Chapman 1997; Figure 1). It has a close relation-
ship with people who, over the last 10,000 years, have transported the species from
its native range in the Eastern Mediterranean to locations worldwide (Miller et al.
in prep.).
Our recent international research project on the fallow deer has shown
that movements appear to have begun in the Neolithic and Bronze Age, when
they were taken to Aegean islands such as Rhodes and Crete (Masseti et al. 2006;
Yannouli and Trantalidou 1999). The Roman period witnessed further transloca-
tions to Italy, Sicily (Wilson 1990), Portugal (Davis and MacKinnon 2009), and
even northern Europe. There is good evidence that breeding populations of fallow
deer were established in Britain at the elite site of Fishbourne Palace in Sussex
(Sykes et al. 2006) and on the Isle of Thanet (Kent), which during the Roman period
was a true island (Madgwick et al. 2013; Miller et al. 2014; Sykes et al. 2011).
The reason why people went to such efforts to translocate this species has been
the subject of some debate. Legend recounts that fallow deer were transported
around the Mediterranean region because of their ability to eradicate snakes by
trampling them and then eating them (Masseti 2002). There are many iconographic
representations depicting this scenario (e.g., see Figure 1b), suggesting that the fal-
low deer-snake relationship was widely recognized and accepted; indeed, Pliny
mentions that no one was unaware of it10. Archaeological interpretations have
less to say about snakes and instead emphasize the value of fallow deer as a quarry
and as a source of meat, suggesting they were transported for the purpose of cre-
ating hunting reservesgame larders where venison could be stored on-the-
hoof (Masseti 2002; Sykes et al. 2006). More recently, the cosmological
significance of fallow deer, in particular the species well-known association with
the Greek and Roman goddesses of hunting (Artemis and Diana respectively),
have been proposed as key drivers for the diffusion of fallow deer (Miller et al.
262 MILLER and SYKES Vol. 36, No. 2

Figure 1. (a) Fallow deer buck: its distinctive spotted coat, palmate antlers and prominent penis sheath
rendering it highly identiable in ancient art (Photo credit N. Sykes) (b). Image Byzantine mosaic, sixth
century AD, on display in the Great Palace Mosaic Museum, Istanbul.

2016; Sykes 2014b). The possibility that this religious association might have
become entangled with zootherapy seems likely, especially since Artemis/
Diana, the goddess of hunting, was called upon particularly during childbirth in
her capacity as protector of women and children (Crummy 2010; Faraone 2003).
There are clear parallels in the geographical spread of fallow deer and that of
the Artemis/Diana cult. For instance, Artemis is thought to have emerged from
a prehistoric goddess of hunting indigenous to either Crete or Anatolia (Fischer-
Hansen and Poulsen 2009; Rigoglioso 2009), both of which had large Neolithic
and Bronze Age populations of fallow deer (Sykes et al. 2013). For Bronze Age
Crete, there is textual, iconographic, and archaeological evidence that fallow
deer were used in sacrifices (Harris 2014) and both Ekroth (2014) and Larson
(2016) have suggested that this played an important role in honoring goddesses
of the hunt. Similarly, large numbers of burnt red deer (Cervus elaphus) remains
were recovered from the Bronze Age sanctuary at Monte Polizzo on Sicily, which
is thought to have been dedicated to a local goddess who was gradually identified
with Artemis (Ekroth 2014; Morris et al. 2003). From the Archaic period (c. 700 B.C)
onwards, the relationship between fallow deer and Artemis is made explicit in
ancient Greek iconography and it is also from this point that fallow deer seem to
have become particularly associated with women and children (Yannouli and
Trantalidou 1999). Archaeological evidence suggests that other cultic figures
associated with women and children also employed fallow deer in their rituals;
for instance, approximately 60 fallow deer astragali (ankle bones) were recovered
2016 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 263

from the Korykeion Antron near Delphi, a cave associated with the cult of Nymphs
who were thought to protect children (Sykes 2014a). A further 11 were recovered
from the Kabireion sanctuary at Thebes, a sacred space thought to be linked to fer-
tility and maturation rituals (Sykes 2014a).
The choice of the astragalus for these votive depositions is significant
because this skeletal element is known to be intimately linked to sacrificial rites,
in particular haruspication and cleromancy (Affanni 2008; Holmgren 2002;
Sykes 2014b). As in many cultures today, haruspication was common through-
out the Classical World in antiquity. The internal organs of the sacrificed animal
were examined for information about human health and well-being (Struck
2014). The astragalus was seen as representing the animal in its entirety, includ-
ing the soul (Gilmour 2002; Holmgren 2002), and they were routinely removed
from sacrificed animals to be used in astragalomancy, a more sustainable,
repeatable, and portable form of divination than the single event of soft-tissue
haruspication (Affanni 2008). Indeed, there is good evidence that some fallow
deer astragali were moved considerable distances as objects in their own right.
For instance, an isolated specimen was recovered from a first century AD
deposit in Rouen, northern France (Lepetz and Yvinec 2002). Given that fallow
deer were not established in northern France at this time, this specimen must
have been imported, most probably from the eastern Mediterranean, as the
astragalus is morphologically consistent with the deer from this region rather
than those living further west (Sykes et al. 2013). This evidence suggests that
we may be able to detect these practices, associated with the insurance of
well-being and good luck in the archaeological record if these items come,
as in the case of the fallow deer, from animals that are not present in the faunal
record of the region at that time.
Fallow deer astragali were not the only skeletal elements to have been
moved around in antiquity. Other foot bonesin particular the metacarpal and
metatarsalalso appear to have been transported as artifacts. For instance, one fal-
low deer metatarsal was recovered from a Punic ship, wrecked off the coast of
Sicily (Ryder 1975). This specimen was found in association with remains from
other exotic animals, namely two teeth from a false killer whale (Pseudorca
crassidens) and a worked radius of a white stork (Ciconia ciconia) which, given the
magical/medicinal potential of exotic species, suggests some special significance.
A further three fallow deer foot bones (one metatarsal and two metacarpi) were re-
covered from Augst in Switzerland, in a context associated with a temple to
Diana. The location indicates that the religious significance of fallow deer endured
into the Roman period (Miller et al. 2016; Schmid 1965). A more compelling exam-
ple of the medicinal value attached to fallow deer parts is provided by a metapodia,
recovered from the Roman Castellum of Valkenburg in the Netherlands,
which had been made into a case for a medical instrument (Miller et al. 2016;
Prummel 1977).
Aside from foot bones, shed antlers also appear to have been selectively
transported. Since isolated specimens are again often recovered from regions
where fallow deer populations were not present, it is reasonable to conclude that
these body parts too must have been moved by people. A well-preserved shed
antler was recovered from a tenthninth centuries BC context at the site of
264 MILLER and SYKES Vol. 36, No. 2

Figure 2. Shed antlers, with evidence of shaving, (a) from Scole Dickleburgh (Image: P. Baker) and
(b) Fishbourne Roman Palace.

Morgantina, Sicily, despite the fact that this species did not become established on
the island until the second century AD (Sykes et al. in prep.). Similarly, across
northern Europe, and in contrast to regions where fallow deer were well estab-
lished, shed antlers dominate fallow deer assemblages and have been noted as
highly distinctive oddities in the zooarchaeological record (Sykes 2010). Their fre-
quency suggests that these elements were being exported from the Mediterranean
(Sykes 2010, 2014b). Why were shed antlers moved in this way? Traditionally, it
was assumed that fallow deer antlers might have been desired as a source of
raw material for antler working (Sykes 2004), especially since many of the speci-
mens show signs of having been cut, sawn, and scraped (see Figure 2), features
often noted in zooarchaeological reports. However, it is now widely accepted
that fallow deer antler is entirely unsuited for bone working because the compacta
is too thin and prone to fracture and crumbling (Riddler 2003). While such
mechanical properties are not ideal for bone working, they do lend themselves
to the production of antler powder, an important ingredient of Roman medicine.
Indeed, more than half of the 30 deer-related remedies mentioned by Pliny
require deer horn, including those for spitting blood and fluxes of the stomach10
(see Table 1), wet complaints that were seemingly remedied by the consumption
of dry antler.
The idea that antlers were brought in from a distance and prepared in this
way for medical reasons is not only visible in the archaeological record, but also
supported by the writing Lucanus, a Roman poet of the first century AD, who
states in Pharsalia:
And when the chieftain bade the tents be fixed,
First all the sandy space within the lines
With song they purify and magic words
From which all serpents flee: next round the camp
In widest circuit from a kindled fire
Rise aromatic odours: danewort burns,
And juice distils from Syrian galbanum;
Then mournful tamarisk, costum from the East,
Strong panacea mixed with centaury
From Thrace, and leaves of fennel feed the flames,
2016 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY
Table 1. Deer Remedies mentioned in Pliny the Elders Natural History10.
Usage
Snakes- Nobody is unaware that
deer are [the snakes'] deadly
enemies, in that they drag any
they may find from their holes
and eat them10
General health10
Dandruff and hair-based vermin11
Eruptions of the eyes10
Loose teeth and associated pain9
Sores and cracks in the mouth
i. also ulcers10
ii. also cracked lips10
Acne10
Cough19
i. also Phthisis10
Spitting blood19
Fluxes (of the stomach)10
Affections of the spleen10
Bowl complaints10
Coeliac affections and dysentery10
Griping pains10
Intestinal affections10
For the expulsion of a tapeworm10
265
Deer remedy
The fumes of their horns, while burning, will drive away
serpents; but the bones of the upper part of a stags throat,
if burnt upon a fire, will bring those reptiles together.
Persons may sleep upon a deers skin in perfect safety, and
without any apprehension of attacks by serpents; its rennet
too, taken with vinegar, is an effectual antidote to the stings of
those reptiles; indeed, if it has been only touched by a person,
he will be for that day effectually protected from them.
Persons having about them a deers tooth, or who have taken the
precaution of rubbing the body with a deer or fawns marrow,
will be sure to repel the attacks of all serpents.
But the most effectual remedy of all is thought to be the rennet of
a fawn that has been cut from the uterus of the dam, as already
mentioned in another place. Contagious magic is likely to be
implied by the method of increasing potency- cutting from the uterus
Deers blood, burnt upon a fire of lentisk wood, with dracontium,
cunilago, and alkanet, will attract serpents, they say; while, on
the other hand, if the blood is removed and pyrethrum
substituted for it, they will take to flight.
The testes, dried, or the genitals of the male animal (deer), are
considered to be very wholesome, taken in wine, and so are the
umbles, generally known as the centipellio (second
stomach).
Antler powder.
Deer horn; Burnt-fumigation or ashed not specified.
Deer horn; Ash, used as a dentrifrice or mouthwash. Unburnt
horn ground to powder was considered more effective
by some.
Deers marrow10: The most highly esteemed of all is deers
marrow, the next best being that of the calf, and then that of the
goat, both male and female10. These substances are prepared
before autumn, by washing them in a fresh state, and drying
them in the shade; after which they are passed through a sieve,
and then strained through linen, and put by in earthen pots for
keeping, in a cool spot. Can be prepared with veal suet and
white thorn leaves, pounded together.
Deer horn, or deer marrow; Antler ashed, mixed with oil of
cyprus or iris
Stag marrow; He-goat suet used in combination with gith,
sulphur, and iris employed with goose-grease, stags marrow,
resin, and lime.
Deer horn: Burnt at the rising of Canicula-the lesser dog star.
Fumigation or ashed not specified
Lights (lungs?) and gullet of the deer; Dried gullet, together
beaten with honey, and taken daily as an electuary.
The spitter deer (?) is thought to be best for the purpose.
As above
Deer horn; ashed
Deer horn; ashed
Deer horn; ashed in vinegar
Deer blood; consumed
Deer horn; ashed
Deer horn; ashes, a pinch in three fingers swallowed in water.
Deer horn; ashed, mixed with bulls gall and cumin, or the flesh of
a gourd, should be applied to the navel.
Deer rennet; boiled with beef and lentils, and taken with the food
Ashed in drink.
266 MILLER and SYKES Vol. 36, No. 2

Table 1. Continued.
Usage Deer remedy
10
Disease of the colon Antler of a young stag; ashed and taken in wine, mixed with
African snails, crushed with the shells on
Corns, chaps, and callosities of the Ashed (?)
feet10
Epilepsy10 Deer antler; burnt- the smell detects the presence of epilepsy
Fever10 Deer flesh.
Erysipelas10 Deer skin; fine scrapings, taken off with pumice-stone and beaten
in vinegar.
Burns10 Deer marrow; the pastern-bone of an ox, reduced to ashes, and
mixed with wax and deers marrow
Hemorrhage10 Deer rennet; with vinegar
Promotion of menstruation10 Deer horn; ashed, taken in drink
Derangement of the uterus10 Deer horn10; Ashed, applied topically
Deer hair10; Burnt for fumigation
Deer marrow10; Mixed with amylum, gum tragacanth and
liniment of snails in the proportion of one denarius and the
same quantity of Cyprus
Hair (pubic?) growth10 Deer horn; decocotion.
Broken bones10 Deer horn; for fractures of the joints, ashes of sheeps thigh-bones
are particularly useful, applied in combination with wax; and
the remedy is all the more efficacious, if a sheeps jaw-bones
are burnt with the other ingredients, together with a deers
antler, and some wax dissolved in oil of roses.
Fistula (owing to unskillfulness on Stag marrow; cotyledon applied hot with stags marrow
the part of medical men in the
use of the knife)7
To prevent miscarriage10 Stag hairs and genitals; The woman wears suspended from her
neck, the white flesh from a hyenas breast, with seven hairs
and the genitals of a stag, the whole tied up in the skin of
a gazelle.
Jaundice10 Stag antler; ashed, taken in wine

And thapsus brought from Eryx: and they burn

Larch, southern-wood and antlers of a deer
Which lived afar.
From these in densest fumes,
Deadly to snakes, a pungent smoke arose8

A connection between deer and snakes is again highlighted by this passage

and it is in accord with Plinys suggestion that:
it is not only while alive and breathing that deer are thus fatal to ser-
pents, but even when dead and separated limb from limb11.
Both of these statements indicate that deer body parts were moved around for
reasons of protection, but they also suggest bodily remains continued to hold the
potency of the live animal, a potency that could be transferred to those who
came into contact with them, as seen in many hot/cold and wet/dry belief systems,
including humoral theory. Further evidence for this is found in Plinys advice that
people will not be attacked by snakes if they sleep on a deer skin, wear a deer tooth
pendant, or rub themselves with deer marrow, rennet, or fat (see Table 1), a remedy
also suggested by Dioscorides12. These examples of transformative, contagious hu-
moral magic/medicine are interesting in the light of available evidence for the Isle
2016 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 267

of Thanet, where fallow deer populations are known to have been established by
the second century AD (Sykes et al. 2011). By the fourth century AD the author
Solinus described the island as being crawled over by no snakes and that earth
brought from it to any other place kills snakes12. It is tempting to interpret this as
another example of contagious magic; the presence of fallow deer on this island
was sufficient to imbue its soil with snake-repelling properties. In turn, the exam-
ple of the Isle of Thanet is reminiscent of so-called Lemnian Earth, a healing soil
that was dedicated to the goddess Diana, stamped with her image and collected
only by her priestesses from a hill in Lemnos, northeastern Greece (Hall and
Photos-Jones 2008). Lemnian Earth was a popular medicine, which, according to
Galen, had the power to stop wounds bleeding and induce vomiting if poison
had been taken7,13,14 (Brock 1929). For Pliny, it could treat dysentery7,10,14, relieve
pain and inflammation around the eyes14, as well as curing the effects of swal-
lowed poison and, again, snake bites7,14.
While snakes appear to have been the cause of many medical complaints, they
also played an important role in Ancient Greek and Roman cures to the extent that
they became a symbol of the healer-god Asklepios (King 2001). Snakes were asso-
ciated with health, continuity, and eternity because of their apparent ability to re-
new themselves by shedding their skin (Angeletti et al. 1992; King 2001;
Subbarayappa 2001). It may be this trait that saw snakes become so closely linked
to male deer, an animal also characterized by the annual shedding and regrowth of
its antlers. Concepts of regeneration were central to many aspects of classical
religion, including sacrificial rites where death was seen to lead to the ultimate
rebirth (Christman 2008; Howell 1996). Within this ideological context it seems
likely that the deers capacity for regrowth and regeneration is what made its
body parts, particularly antler, attractive as a source of healing.
The death/rebirth symbolism attached to antlers has been proposed as one of the
drivers behind the phenomenon of antler roundel pendants (Figure 3), which have
been recovered from archaeological sites across the Roman Empire (Greep 1994).
These pendants, made from the shed antlers of deer, are thought to have been worn
as amulets to gain protection from diseases and other misfortunes. Many of these
roundels are plain, but others have phallic decoration, the phallus itself being per-
ceived as a significant good luck charm within the Roman world (Montserrat 2000).
Various scholars have suggested that the placement of phallic decoration upon deer
antler was in recognition of the sympathy between the masculine stag, power, poten-
cy, and human fertility (Green 2011; Greep 1994) and this would appear to be a con-
nection that is found across cultures (Jacobson-Tepfer 2015; Totelin 2007:534).
In reviews of the Hippocratic gynecological treatises, Totelin (2007, 2009) sug-
gests that deer penises were often employed in fertility treatments in classical Europe.
An example recorded in Sterile Women involves the penis of a deer, powdered and
taken in wine (Totelin 2007). The same remedy is used to quicken the birth in labor,
whereas the powdered horn (antler) is used, particularly for a displaced womb15
(Totelin 2007). Similar recipes are given by Pliny the Elder16, who advised that
pregnant women should wear a necklace of deer genitals and hair in order to avoid
miscarriages. Deer hair and bone marrow were also used to counter derangement
of the uterus (Table 1). Unfortunately, the soft tissues of the deer penis, hair, and
bone marrow do not survive in the archaeological record; however, it is possible
268 MILLER and SYKES Vol. 36, No. 2

Figure 3. Roman red deer antler roundel pendant with phallic decoration (Photo credit N. Sykes).

that fallow deer were transported in part to supply this demand (Miller et al 2016;
Sykes 2014b). The perceived utility of deer body parts for gynecological
problems and issues of childbirth can probably also be explained in terms of
sympathetic magic: Pliny records that female deer have no pain on delivery17
and it seems likely that it was thought that this ability could be transferred to
pregnant women who consumed their body parts. A connection to Artemis/Diana
can also be found here because, like deer, she is said to have been born without
causing her mother pain, hence her promotion to goddess of childbirth18.
With the high probability of death for mother and/or child, childbirth must
have been a source of great anxiety in antiquity. French (2004) outlines some of
the many animal-based remedies employed in Roman obstetrics. The ingredients
used extend far beyond the body parts of deer, with many other species being
employed, but the majority of recipes also involve soft tissues and, consequently,
this most important aspect of ancient medicine is entirely overlooked by archaeol-
ogists. The same is true for many of the remedies listed in Table 1, which utilize
blood, fat, marrow, and organs, applied in one of four waysas amulets, in
salves, through ingestion, and through fumigation (the burning and inhaling the
smoke)depending upon the ailment (Ogden 2014). For a cough, Pliny prescribes
deer lungs and gullet19, a clear example of homeopathic magic, but one that would
be archaeologically invisible. Similarly, both Pliny and Dioscorides suggest deer
marrow is superior to that from all other animals with the potential to be used
as a salve for burns, fistulas, and ulcers20 (Table 1); however, archaeological studies
of marrow extraction generally focus on its calorific value, with no consideration
given to its medicinal role (e.g., Outram and Mulville 2005). This is largely because,
within modern Western ideology, food is seen as distinct from medicine. That
the same was not true in the past is demonstrated by Roman therapeutic recipes
that suggest deer rennet be eaten to improve intestinal affections or advise the
consumption of venison to reduce fever; the flesh was recommended because
deer were believed to be free from fever (Table 1).
Even the briefest reading of Table 1 serves as a useful indicator to archaeolo-
gists that studies of animal-based medicine must encompass the mundane as
well as the sacred. True, it is perhaps easier to identify evidence for zootherapy
2016 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 269

in sacrificial and votive contexts or when isolated animal body parts are found out-
side a species native range, but the expectation has to be that most human-animal
relationships in the past had the potential to be perceived therapeutically. How the
fallow deer may have come to be viewed as important magico-religious medicinal
animals and the meaning of this study for moving zooarchaeological analyses of
medicine forward are subjects to which we now turn.

Discussion and Conclusions

Deer are the focus of numerous medicinal remedies across societies that prac-
tice zootherapy, largely because of the animals innate ability to grow and regener-
ate antler, a cross-cultural symbol of health and longevity. One of the earliest
references to the medicinal use of deer comes from China, where the antlers and
penises from spotted deer were seen as being particularly potent (Kong and But
1985). Treatises from the Han Dynasty dating to c. 168 BC discuss the use of their
antlers in treating snakebites, a recommendation also seen in ancient European
zootherapy. The similarity of advice given by the broadly contemporary
Shen Nung Pentsao Ching (Kong and But 1985) and by the work of Pliny10 regard-
ing the same ingredients reaffirms the idea of common tradition of knowledge.
Indeed, it would appear to be an example of the transmission and transformation
of medical expertise along the Silk Road. Touwaide and Appetiti (2013) have
identified considerable exchange between Eastern and Mediterranean medicine.
As advice spread, it was modified to fit existing systems and available species.
For example, the spotted deer referred to in China is not fallow deer, but rather
the native sika deer (Cervus nippon), which also have spotted coats. Sika deer
were not present in Europe until very recently and, at the time that Pliny and
Dioscorides were writing (first century AD), the fallow deer cannot have been
a common sight in Italy either, which may explain why neither author makes
explicit reference to spotty deer. The original Eastern remedies were thus
reconfigured for the native deer species.
While the scarcity of fallow deer in Roman Italy most probably accounts for
the lack of contemporary documentation concerning them, there are other possible
reasons why the species was neglected by Pliny. He wrote specifically for the man
on the street, providing information about remedies that could be found freely
within the natural world (Kee 1986). The fallow deer, an exotic animal so clearly
the preserve of the elite (Sykes 2014b), may have been deliberately overlooked.
This is especially so since it derived from the eastern Mediterranean and, with its
Artemis/Diana association, symbolized many of the magico-religious values to
which Pliny objected, particularly with regard to foreign physicians.
The role of peripatetic medics in the transmission of both knowledge about,
and the body parts of, fallow deer is worthy of consideration, particularly as
elements of this are visible in the archaeological record. Isolated fallow deer foot
bones and antlers were clearly being moved around in antiquity, but a commodi-
fied trade in body parts seems unlikely. Instead, the specimens recovered from
the Punic shipwreck (Ryder 1975), from Rouen (Lepetz and Yvinec 2002), and, in
particular, the medical implement case from Valkenburg (Prummel 1977) could
270 MILLER and SYKES Vol. 36, No. 2

all be accounted for as the property of itinerant physicians, perhaps even provid-
ing a proxy for their geographical distribution.
If it is accepted that, initially, imported fallow deer body parts were used as
luxury medicine administered by wandering practitioners, it stands to reason
that the elite would wish to secure ready access to the animals therapeutic quali-
ties by establishing their own breeding populations. Indeed, if antlers and penises
from spotty deer were deemed to be a powerful medicine in antiquity, this may be
the very reason why fallow deer were selectively transported and maintained
above other cervid species: the males large palmate antlers, pronounced penile
sheath, and spotty coat (Figure 1) promoted them as the medicinal deer of choice.
With this possibility in mind, the traditional interpretation that classical parks
were mere stores for venison on-the-hoof is overturned. Rather than representing
walking larders, the fallow deer were perhaps more valuable in life than death
as walking pharmacies: the bucks were capable of providing a sustainable sup-
ply of shed antler that could be ground into medicine (e.g., Figure 2). Given the
important and varied medicinal properties that were attributed to antler (Table 1) and
the fact that it takes a minimum of three years for fallow bucks to develop sizeable
specimens (Chapman and Chapman 1997), it would make sense for males to be
maintained in high numbers and to an old age. This hypothesis may be supported
by the zooarchaeological evidence, since most of the fallow deer remains recovered
from Greco-Roman sites in Europe tend to be from old, adult males (Sykes 2014b).
The potency of antler as a symbol of fertility and protection is well known, its
perceived power due not only to its regenerative association, but also its links to
the phallus, itself a Greco-Roman symbol of protection (Green 2011; Greep 1994;
Henig 2003; Totlin 2007, 2009). These connections saw deer antler, but also deer
genitals, become vital ingredients in gynecological and obstetric medicine. And it
is within discussions of childbirth that the entangled nature of religion, medicine,
and magic can be seen: it can be no coincidence that zootherapeutic remedies
derived from the animal familiar of Artemis/Diana, the goddess of childbirth,
were selected to treat pregnant and laboring women. Medico-magical connections
between the fallow deer and Artemis/Diana are also indicated, albeit obliquely,
by Solinuss description of the Isle of Thanet and its snake-repelling soil: the island
was seemingly imbued with the same qualities as both the fallow deer (Figure 1b)
and Artemiss healing Lemnian Earth. This example also reveals something of
the belief systems of the time, in particular that concepts of contagious magic
were pervasive within medicinal thought.
Lemnian Earth is an interesting case as it is one example of ancient medicine
that has been investigated by archaeological scientists (Hall and Photos-Jones
2008; Klaproth 1807). Analytical focus on this healing soil was facilitated by the
fact that it is well-documented, archaeologically identifiable, and, as a discrete
substance, is conceptually closer to modern medicine. By contrast, many of the
zootherapeutic remedies discussed by the likes of Pliny and Dioscorides required
the destruction of animal bone through grinding and ingestion or involved archae-
ologically invisible soft tissues and their applications were not compartmentalized
from other aspects of daily life and religious beliefs (e.g., see Table 1). These are per-
haps the main reasons why archaeological studies of animal-based medicine are
scarce: the evidence is hard to find and perhaps even harder to interpret (Russell
2016 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 271

2012; Sykes 2014b). Nevertheless, the difficulties of identifying zootherapy in the

archaeological record should not deter archaeologists from attempting to do so.
In order to better understand the role of zootherapy in the past, archaeologists
must come to recognize that, as is the case in many cultures today, animal-based
medicine is likely to be everywherefrom food waste to personal adornments to
lipid traces in ceramics. Such remnants of zootherapy are perhaps easier to locate
when viewed through the lens of sympathetic magic, which promoted the con-
sumption of homeopathic or contagious remedies, often related to their hot/
cold and wet/dry natures, to bring the body into healthy balance. Historical texts
pertaining to humoral medicine make clear the importance of animals to human
health and well-being: they were perceived as making the difference between
life and death. The absence of archaeological discussion of this medicinal belief
system, and the roles of animals within it, is an oversight that we hope this paper
has gone a small way to redress.
By examining the case of deer, more specifically fallow deer, within ancient
medicine, we have tried to highlight the potential for examining zootherapy
from an archaeological perspective. In so doing it has been possible to suggest
that body parts and living population of these exotic deer were potentially desired
and transported primarily for magico-religious medicinal reasons. Fallow deer are
just one of many species that were translocated in antiquity and it seems possible
that further archaeological analyses of exotic and/or wild animals will reveal more
information to fill a critical knowledge gap within the medical humanities.

Notes

1Homer. The Iliad. Translated by Anthony Verity. 2012. Oxford University Press, Oxford.
Book 4.369
2Hippocrates. Prognostic. Regimen in Acute Diseases. The Sacred Disease. The Art. Breaths. Law.
Decorum. Physician (Ch. 1). Dentition. Translated by W. H. S. Jones. 1923. Loeb Classical Li-
brary 148. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA.
3Pliny. Natural History, Volume VII: Books 24-27. Translated by W. H. S. Jones and A. C.
Andrews. 1956. Loeb Classical Library 393. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA.
Book 24.1
4Pliny. Natural History, Volume VII: Books 24-27. Translated by W. H. S. Jones and A. C.
Andrews. 1956. Loeb Classical Library 393. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA.
Book 24.98102
5 Dioscorides. The Greek Herbal of Dioscorides. Translated by J. Goodyer, and edited by

R. T. Gunther. 1934. Oxford University Press, Oxford.

6 Dioscorides. The Greek Herbal of Dioscorides. Translated by J. Goodyer, and edited by

R. T. Gunther. 1934. Oxford University Press, Oxford. Book 2.49

7Pliny. Natural History, Volume VII: Books 24-27. Translated by W. H. S. Jones and A. C.
Andrews. 1956. Loeb Classical Library 393. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA.
8Lucanus, A. M. Pharsalia. Translated by Sir Edward Ridley. 1905. Longmans, Green, and
Co., London. Book 9.839
272 MILLER and SYKES Vol. 36, No. 2

9Pliny. Natural History, Volume VIII: Books 28-32. Translated by W. H. S. Jones.

1963. Loeb Classical Library 418. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA.
Book 28.49
10 Pliny. Natural History, Volume VIII: Books 28-32. Translated by W. H. S. Jones. 1963.

Loeb Classical Library 418. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA.

11 Pliny. Natural History, Volume VIII: Books 28-32. Translated by W. H. S. Jones. 1963.

Loeb Classical Library 418. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA. Book 28.46
12 Dioscorides. The Greek Herbal of Dioscorides. Translated by J. Goodyer, and edited by R.

T. Gunther. 1934. Oxford University Press, Oxford. Book 2.94

13Solinus. Collectanea Rerum Memorabilium. Translated by T. Mommsen. 1895. Weidmann,
Berlin. Book 32.8
14 Sophocles. Vol 2: Antigone. The Women of Trachis. Philoctetes. Oedipus at Colonus. Translated

by H. Lloyd-Jones. 1994. The Loeb Classical Library, 21. Harvard University Press,
Cambridge, MA
15Pliny. Natural History, Volume IX: Books 33-35. Translated by H. Rackham. 1952.
Loeb Classical Library 394. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA.
16Hippocrates. Generation. Nature of the Child. Diseases 4. Nature of Women and Barrenness.
Edited and translated by Paul Potter. 2012. Loeb Classical Library 520. Harvard University
Press, Cambridge, MA.
17 Pliny. Natural History, Volume VIII: Books 28-32. Translated by W. H. S. Jones. 1963.

Loeb Classical Library 418. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA. Book 28.27
18Pliny. Natural History, Volume III: Books 8-11. Translated by H. Rackham. 1940.
Loeb Classical Library 353. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA. Book 8.81
19Callimachus. Hymn 3, to Artemis. Translated by A.W. Mair. 1921. William Heinemann,
London.
20Pliny. Natural History, Volume VIII: Books 28-32. Translated by W. H. S. Jones. 1963.
Loeb Classical Library 418. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA. Book 28.53
21 Dioscorides. The Greek Herbal of Dioscorides. Translated by J. Goodyer, and edited by

R. T. Gunther. 1934. Oxford University Press, Oxford. Book 2.95

Acknowledgments

This research was conducted as part of the Dama International Project, which is funded
by the Arts and Humanities Research Council (standard grant no. AH/1026456/1). We are
grateful to Simon Malloch and to two anonymous reviewers who gave feedback on an
earlier version of the text.

References Cited
Abbink, J. 1993. Reading the Entrails: Analysis of Tell Afis. In Proceedings of the 5th International
an African Divination Discourse. Man 28:705. Congress on the Archaeology of the Ancient Near
DOI:10.2307/2803993 East. Madrid, April 3-8 2006, edited by M. Prez,
Affanni, G. 2008. Astragalus Bone in Ancient I. L. Rubio, and S. Martnez, pp. 7792. Universi-
Near East: Ritual Depositions in Iron Age I in dad Autnoma de Madrid, Crdoba.
2016 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY
Alves, R. R. N., and I. L. Rosa. 2005. Why Study
the Use of Animal Products in Traditional
Medicines? Journal of Ethnobiology and Ethno-
medicine 1:5. DOI:10.1186/1746-4269-1-5.
Alves R. R. N., and I. L. Rosa. 2013. Introduction:
Towards a Plural Approach to the Study of
Medicinal Animals. In Animals in Traditional
Folk Medicine, edited by R. R. N. Alvesand
I. L. Rosa, pp. 19. Springer, Berlin Heidelberg.
Alves, R. R. N., J. A. A. Barbosa, S. L. D. X.
Santos, W. M. S. Souto, and R. R. D. Barboza.
2011a. Animal-Based Remedies as Comple-
mentary Medicines in the Semi-Arid Region
of Northeastern Brazil. Evidence-Based Comple-
mentary and Alternative Medicine. DOI:10.1093/
ecam/nep134.
Alves, R. R. N., R. R. D Barboza, W. M. S. Souto,
and J. S. Mourao. 2011b. Utilization of Bovids
in Traditional Folk Medicine and their Impli-
cations for Conservation. Environmental Re-
search Journal 5:547562.
Alves R. R. N., I. L. Rosa, and G. G. Santana.
2007. The Role of Animal-derived Remedies
as Complementary Medicine in Brazil. Biosci-
ence 57:949. DOI:10.1641/B571107.
Alves, R. R. N., M. F. T. Medeiros, U. P. Albuquer-
que, and I. L. Rosa. 2013. From Past to Present:
Medicinal Animals in a Historical Perspective.
In Animals in Traditional Folk Medicine, edited
by R. R. N. Alves and I. L. Rosa, pp. 1123.
Springer, Berlin Heidelberg.
Anderson Jr., E. N. 1987. Why is Humoral Medi-
cine So Popular? Social Science Medicine 25:331.
DOI:10.1016/0277-9536(87)90271-1.
Angeletti, L. R., U. Agrimi, C. Curia, D. French,
and R. Mariani-Costantini. 1992. Healing
Rituals and Sacred Serpents The Lancet
340:223. DOI:10.1016/0140-6736(92)90480-Q.
Arikha, N. 2007. Passions and Tempers: A History of
the Humours. Harper Collins, New York.
Baker, P. A. 2013. The Archaeology of Medicine in
the Greco-Roman World. Cambridge University
Press, London.
Bensky, D., and A. Gamble. 1986. Chinese Herbal
Medicine, Materia Medica. Eastland Press,
Seattle.
Brock, A. J. 1929. Greek Medicine: Being Extracts
Illustrative of Medical Writers from Hippocrates
to Galen. Dent, London.
Bryan, C. P., and G. E. Smith. 1874. Ancient
Egyptian Medicine: the Papyrus Ebers. Ares,
London.
Carrick, P. 2001. Medical Ethics in the Ancient World.
Georgetown University Press, New York.
Chapman, D., and N. Chapman. 1997. Fallow
Deer. Coch-Y-Bonddu Books, Machynlleth.
273
Christman, J. 2008. The Gilgamesh Complex:
The Quest for Death Transcendence and the
Killing of Animals. Society and Animals 16:
297. DOI:10.1163/156853008X357649.
CostaNeto, E. M. 2004. Implications and
Applications of Folk Zootherapy in the State
of Bahia, Northeastern Brazil. Sustainable
Development 12:161. DOI:10.1002/sd.234.
Cragg, G. M., and D. J. Newman. 2001a. Medic-
inals for the Millennia. Annals of the New York
Academy of Sciences 953:3. DOI: 10.1111/j.1749-
6632.2001.tb11356.x.
Cragg, G. M., and D. J. Newman. 2001b.
Natural Product Drug Discovery in the Next
Millennium Pharmaceutical Biology 39:817.
DOI:10.1076/phbi.39.s1.8.0009.
Crummy, N. 2010. Bears and Coins: The Iconog-
raphy of Protection in Late Roman Infant
Burials. Britannia 41:37. DOI:10.1017/S0068
113X1000005X.
Davis, S., and M. MacKinnon. 2009. Did the
Romans bring Fallow Deer to Portugal? Envi-
ronmental Archaeology 14:15. DOI:10.1179/1749
63109X400646.
Dev, S. 2001. Ancient-modern Concordance in
Ayurvedic Plants: Some Examples. In Develop-
ment of Plant-Based Medicines: Conservation,
Efficacy and Safety, edited by P. K. Saxena,
pp. 4547. Kluwer Academic Publishers,
The Netherlands.
Ebbell, B. 1937. The Papyrus Ebers: the Greatest
Egyptian Medical Document. Levin & Munks-
gaard, Copenhagen.
Ekroth, G. 2014. Animal Sacrifice in Antiquity.
In The Oxford Handbook of Animals in Classical
Thought and Life, edited by G. L. Campbell,
pp. 324354. Oxford University Press, Oxford.
El-Kamali, H. H. 2000. Folk Medicinal Use
of some Animal Products in Central Sudan.
Journal of Ethnopharmacology 72:279. DOI:10.
1016/S0378-8741(00)00209-9.
Faraone, C. 1993. Molten Wax, Spilt Wine and
Mutilated Animals: Sympathetic Magic in
near Eastern and Early Greek Oath Ceremo-
nies. Journal of Hellenic Studies 113:60. DOI:
10.2307/632398.
Faraone, C. 2003. Playing the Bear and Fawn for
Artemis. InInitiation in Ancient Greek Rituals
and Narratives, edited by D. Brooks Dodd
and C.A. Faraone, pp. 4368. Psychology
Press, Kentucky.
Ferreira, F. S., U. P. Albuquerque, H. D. M.
Coutinho, W. O. Almedia, and R. R. N. Alves.
2012. The Trade in Medicinal Animals in North-
eastern Brazil. Evidence Based Complementary
274 MILLER and SYKES
and Alternative Medicine 2012:1. DOI:10.1155/
2012/126938.
Fischer-Hansen, T., and B. Poulsen. 2009. Intro-
duction. In From Artemis to Diana: The Goddess
of Man and Beast, edited by T. Fischer-Hansen
and B. Poulsen, pp. 1117. Museum Tuscu
lanum Press, Copenhagen.
Fletcher, J. 2011. Gardens of Earthly Delight: the
History of Deer Parks. Windgather Press,
Oxford.
Frazer, J. G. 1993. The Golden Bough: a Study in
Magic and Religion. Wordsworth Reference,
Hertfordshire.
French, V. 2004. Midwives and Maternity Care in
the Roman World. In Midwifery and Medicaliza-
tion of Childbirth: Comparative Perspectives,
edited by E. G. van Teijlingen, Lowis, P.
McCaffery, and M. Porter, pp. 5362. Nova
New York.
Gesler, W. M. 1993. Therapeutic Landscapes:
Theory and a Case Study of Epidauros,
Greece. Environment and Planning D: Society
and Space 11:171189.
Gilmour, G. H. 2002. The Nature and Function
of Astragalus Bones from Archaeological
Contexts in the Levant and Eastern Mediterra-
nean. Oxford Journal of Archaeology 16:167.
DOI:10.1111/1468-0092.00032.
Green, M. 2011. The Gods of the Celts. The History
Press, London.
Greep, S. 1994. Antler Roundel Pendants from
Britain and the North-western Roman Prov
inces. Britannia 25:79. DOI: 10.2307/526989.
Halberstein, R. A. 2005. Medicinal Plants:
Historical and Cross-cultural Usage Patterns.
Annals of Epidemiology 15:686. DOI:10.1016/j.
annepidem.2005.02.004.
Hall, A. J., and E. Photos-Jones. 2008. Accessing
Past Beliefs and Practices: the Case of Lemnian
Earth. Archaeometry 50:1034. DOI:10.1111/
j.1475-4754.2007.00377.x.
Harris, K. M. 2014. The Social Role of Hunting
and Wild Animals in Late Bronze Age Crete:
a Social Zooarchaeological Analysis. Unpub-
lished Doctoral Dissertation, Department of
Archaeology, University of Southampton.
Helms, M. 1993. Craft and the Kingly Ideal: Art,
Trade and Power. University of Texas Press,
Austin.
Henig, M. M. 2003. Religion in Roman Britain.
Routledge, New York.
Holmgren, R. 2002. Money on the Hoof The
Astragalus Bonereligion, Gaming and Primi-
tive Money. In PECUS-Man and Animal in
Antiquity. Proceedings of the Conference at the
Swedish Institute in Rome, edited by B. Santillo,
Vol. 36, No. 2
pp. 212220. The Swedish Institute in
Rome, Rome.
Howell, S. 1996. A Life for Life: Blood and oth-
er Life-promoting Substances in northern Lio
Moral Discourse. In For the Sake of our Future:
Sacricing in eastern Indonesia, edited by S.
Howell, pp. 92109. CNWS Publications,
Leiden.
Insoll, T. 2011. Substance and Materiality?
The Archaeology of Talensi Medicine Shrines
and Medicinal Practices. Anthropology and
Medicine 18:181. DOI:10.1080/13648470.2011.
591196.
Jacobo-Salcedo, M. R., A. J. Alonso-Castro, and
A. Zarate-Martinez. 2011. Folk Medicinal use
of Fauna in Mapimi, Durango, Mxico. Journal
of Ethnopharmacology 133:902. DOI:10.1016/j.
jep.2010.10.005.
Jacobson-Tepfer, E. 2015. The Hunter, the Stag and
the Mother of Animals. Oxford University Press,
Oxford.
Kee, H. C. 1986. Medicine, Miracle and Magic in
New Testament Times. Cambridge University
Press, London.
King, H. 2001. Greek and Roman Medicine. Bristol
Classical Press, London.
Klaproth, M. H. 1807. Chemische Untersuchung
der echten Lemnischen Erde. Beitrage zur Che
mischen Kenntniss der Mineralkorper 9:327333.
Kong, Y. C. and P. P. H. But. 1985. Deer-the
Ultimate Medicinal Animal: Antler and Deer
Parts in Medicine. The Royal Society of New
Zealand, Bulletin 22:311324.
Larson, J. 2016. Venison for Artemis? The
Problem of Deer Sacrifice. Manuscript submit-
ted for Animal Sacrifice in Ancient Greece, edit
ed by S. Hitch and I. Rutherford. Cambridge
University Press, Cambridge. In press. Manu-
script available from jlarson@kent.edu.
Lepetz, S. and J.-H. Yvinec. 2002. Presence
despeces animals dorigine mediterraneenne
en France du nord aux periods romaine et
medieval: actions anthropiques et movements
naturels. Mouvements ou deplacement de popula-
tions animals en Mediterranee au cours de
lHolocene, edited by A. Gardeisen, A. BAR
International Series 1017:33, Oxford.
Lev, E. 2003. Traditional Healing with Animals
(Zootherapy): Medieval to Present-day Levan-
tine practice. Journal of Ethnopharmacology
85:107. DOI:10.1016/S0378-8741(02)00377-X.
Lvi-Strauss, C. 1966. The Savage Mind. University
of Chicago Press, Chicago.
Low, C. 2011. Birds and Khoesn: Linking Spirits
and Healing with Day-to-day Life. Africa
81:295. DOI:10.1017/S0001972011000027.
2016 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY
Mackinnon, M. 2006. Supplying exotic animals
for the Roman amphitheatre games: New
reconstructions combining archaeological, an-
cient textual, historical and ethnographic data.
Mouseion-Calgary, 6:137161.
Madgwick, R., N. Sykes, H. Miller, R. Symmons,
J. Morris, and A. Lamb. 2013. Fallow Deer
(Dama dama dama) management in Roman
South-East Britain. Archaeological and Anthro-
pological Sciences 5:111. DOI:10.1007/s12520-
013-0120-0.
Mahawar, M. M., and D. P. Jaroli. 2008. Tradition-
al Zootherapeutic Studies in India: a Review.
Journal of Ethnobiology and Ethnomedicine 4:17.
DOI:10.1186/1746-4269-4-17.
Manderson, L. 1987. Hot-Cold Food and Medical
Theories: Overview and Introduction. Social
Science & Medicine 25:329330.
Martinez, G. L. 2013. Use of Fauna in the Tradi-
tional Medicine of Native Toba (qom) from
the Argentine Gran Chaco Region: an Ethno-
zoological and Conservationist Approach.
Ethnobiology and Conservation 2:1. Available at:
http://www.ethnobioconservation.com/index.
php/ebc/article/download/34/26. Accessed
Masseti, M. 2002. Island of Deer. City of Rhodes
Environment Organisation, Rhodes.
Masseti, M., A. Cavallaro, E. Pecchioli, and C.
Vernesi. 2006. Artificial Occurrence of the
Fallow Deer, Dama dama dama (L., 1758), on
the Island of Rhodes (Greece): Insight from
mtDNA Analysis. Human Evolution 21:167.
DOI:10.1007/s11598-006-9014-9.
Miller, H., K. Baker, and N. Sykes (in prep). The
Cultural History of the Fallow Deer. A Study of
Human-Animal Relationships. Brill Series: His-
tory of the Environment, ISBN 9789004312531.
Miller, H., R. F. Carden, J. Evans, A. Lamb, R.
Madgwick, D. Osborne, R. Symmons, and N.
Sykes. 2014. Dead or Alive? Investigating Long-
distance Transport of Live Fallow Deer and their
Body Parts in Antiquity. Environmental Archaeol-
ogy. DOI:10.1179/1749631414Y.0000000043.
Miller, H., N. Sykes, and C. Ward (2016). Diana
and her Deer: the Movement of Medicine
and Mythology. Manuscript submitted to The
Journal of Roman Archaeology. In press. Avail-
able from Holly.Miller@nottingham.ac.uk.
Montserrat, D. 2000. Essay Six: Reading gender
in the Roman World. In Experiencing Rome:
Culture, Identity and Power in the Roman
Empire, edited by J. Huskinson, pp. 153181.
Routledge, London.
Morris, B. 1998. The Power of Animals: an Ethnog-
raphy. Berg, Oxford
275
Morris, I., T. Jackman, E. Blake, B. Garnand, S.
Tusa, T. Hnatiuk, W. Matthews, and H.P.
Stika. 2003. Stanford University Excavations on
the Acropolis of Monte Polizzo, Sicily, III: Prelim-
inary Report on the 2002 Season. MAAR (2003):
243315.
Nakanishi, K. 1999. An Historical Perspective of
Natural Products Chemistry. In Comprehensive
Natural Products Chemistry, Vol 1, edited by
S. Ushio, pp. 2340. Elsevier, Amsterdam.
Nowell, K., W. L. Chyi, and C. J. Pei. 1992. The
Horns of a Dilemma: The Market for Rhino horn
in Taiwan. TRAFFIC, Taipei.
Nunn, J. F. 2002. Ancient Egyptian Medicine.
University of Oklahoma, Norman.
Nutton, V. 2012. Ancient Medicine. Routledge,
New York.
Ogden, D. 2014. Animal Magic. In The Oxford
Handbook of Animals in Classical Thought and
Life, edited by G. L. Campbell, pp. 294309.
Oxford University Press, Oxford.
Oliveira, E. S. D. F. Torres, S. E. Brooks,
and R. R. N. Alves. 2010. The Medicinal
Animal Markets in the Metropolitan Region
of Natal City, Northeastern Brazil. Journal
of Ethnopharmacology 130:54. DOI:10.1016/
j.jep.2010.04.010.
Outram, A. K., and J. Mulville, eds. 2005. Interna-
tional Council for Archaeozoology. Conference.
The Zooarchaeology of Fats, Oils, Milk and
Dairying. Oxbow, London.
Parker, R. 1983. Miasma: Pollution and Purification
in Early Greek Religion. Claredon Press,
Oxford.
Pool, R. 1987. Hot and Cold as an Explanatory
Model: the Example of Bharuch District in
Gujarat, India. Social Science and Medicine
24:389. DOI:10.1016/0277-9536(87)90277-2.
Prummel, W. 1977. Een bewerkt damhertbeen
uit het Romeinse Castellum te Valkenburg
Overdruk uit Westerbeem 26:414.
Rekdal, O. B. 1999. Cross-cultural Healing in East
African Ethnography. Medical Anthropology
Quarterly 13:458482. Available at: http://
www.jstor.org/stable/649559.
Riddler, I., ed. 2003. Materials of Manufacture. The
Choice of Materials in the Working of Bone and
Antler in northern and central Europe during the
First Millennium AD. British Archaeological
Reports, International Series 1193, Oxford.
Rigoglioso, M. 2009. The Cult of Divine Birth in
Ancient Greece. Macmillan, Palgrave.
Rosner, F. 1995. Medicine in the Bible and the
Talmud: selections from Classical Jewish Sources.
KTVA Publishing House, New Jersey.
276 MILLER and SYKES
Russell, N. 2012. Social Zooarchaeology: Humans
and Animals in Prehistory. Cambridge University
Press, Cambridge.
Ryder, M. I. 1975. Some Phoenician Animal
Remains from Sicily. In Archaeozoological Stud-
ies: Paper of the Archaeozoological Conference
1974, held at the Biologisch Archaeologisch Insti-
tut of the State University of Groningen, edited
by A.T. Clason, pp. 213218. North Holland
Publishing, Amsterdam.
Scarpa, A. 1981. Pre-scientific Medicines: their
Extent and Value. Society of Scientific Medicine
15:317. DOI:10.1016/0271-7123(81)90061-4.
Schmid, E. 1965. Damhirsche im Rmischen
Augst. Ur-Schweiz 29:5363.
Silva, M. L. V., . G. C. Alves, and A. V. Almeida.
2004. A zooterapia no Recife (Pernambuco):
uma articulao entre as prticas e a histria.
Biotemas 17:95116.
Struck, P. 2014. Animals and Divination. In
The Oxford Handbook of Animals in Classical
Thought and Life, edited by G. L. Campbell,
pp. 310323. Oxford University Press, Oxford.
Subbarayappa, B. V. 2001. The Roots of Ancient
Medicine: an Historical Outline. Journal of
Biosciences-Bangalore 26:135144.
Sykes, N. 2004. The Introduction of Fallow Deer
to Britain: a Zooarchaeological Perspective.
Environmental Archaeology 9:75. DOI:10.1179/
env.2004.9.1.75.
Sykes, N. 2010. European Fallow Deer. In
Extinctions and Invasions: a social history of
British fauna, edited by T. OConnor, T. and
N. Sykes, pp. 5158. Windgatherer Press,
Oxford.
Sykes, N. 2012. A Social Perspective on the
Introduction of Exotic Animals: The Case of
the Chicken. World Archaeology 44:158. DOI:10.
1080/00438243.2012.646104.
Sykes, N. J. 2014a. Hunting and Hunting Land-
scapes. In Encyclopedia of Global Archaeology,
pp. 35923611. Springer, New York.
Sykes, N. J. 2014b. Beastly Questions. Bloomsbury
Publishing Plc, London.
Sykes, N. J., K. H. Baker, R. F. Carden, T. F.
Higham, A. R. Hoelzel, and R. E. Stevens.
2011. New Evidence for the Establishment
and Management of the European Fallow
Deer (Dama dama dama) in Roman Britain.
Vol. 36, No. 2
Journal of Archaeological Science 38:156. DOI:10.
1016/j.jas.2010.08.024.
Sykes N. J., L. Bartosiewicz, G. Carenti, C.
Johnstone, K. Baker, R. Hoelzel, H. Miller,
B. Wilkinson, and A. Lamb (in prep). Refugia
or Exotica?: the Fallow Deer of Sicily and
Sardinia. Intended for Journal of Archaeological
Science. Available from Holly.Miller@notting
ham.ac.uk
Sykes, N. J., R. F. Carden, and K. Harris. 2013.
Changes in the Size and Shape of Fallow
Deer: Evidence for the Movement and Man-
agement of a Species. International Journal of
Osteoarchaeology 23:55. DOI:10.1002/oa.1239.
Sykes, N. J., J. White, T. Hayes, and M. Palmer.
2006. Tracking Animals using Strontium
Isotopes in Teeth: the Role of Fallow Deer
(Dama dama) in Roman Britain. Antiquity
80:948. DOI:10.1017/S0003598X00094539.
Totelin, L. M. V. 2007. Sex and Vegetables in the
Hippocratic Gynaecological Treatises. Studies
in History and Philosophy of Biological and Bio-
medical Sciences 38:531. DOI:10.1016/j.shpsc.
2007.06.001.
Totelin, L. M. V. 2009. Hippocratic Recipes.
Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden.
Touwaide, A., and E. Appetiti. 2013. Knowledge of
Eastern Material Medica (Indian and Chinese)
in pre-modern Mediterranean Medical Tradi-
tions: a Study in Comparative Historical Eth-
nopharmacology. Journal of Ethnopharmacology
148:361. DOI:10.1016/j.jep.2013.03.068.
Walker, H. 2010. Soulful Voices: Birds,
Language and Prophecy in Amazonia. Tipiti:
Journal of the Society for the Anthropology
of Lowland South America 8:121. Available
at: http://digitalcommons.trinity.edu/tipiti/vol8/
iss1/1.
WHO/IUCN/WWF. 1993. Guidelines on Conser-
vation of Medicinal Plants. IUCN, Gland
Switzerland.
Wilson, R. J. 1990. Sicily under the Roman Empire:
the Archaeology of a Roman Province, 36
BCAD 535. Aris & Phillips, Oxford.
Yannouli, E., and K. Trantalidou. 1999. The Fallow
Deer (Dama dama Linnaeus, 1758): Archaeologi-
cal Presence and Representation in Greece.
In The Holocene History of the European Vertebrate
Fauna, edited by N. Benecke, pp. 24777.
Verlag Marie Leidorf GmbH, Rahden.