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Augury and haruspicy

Roman divination was not private consolation but constitutional procedure — and a general who threw the sacred chickens overboard is one of history's better-documented cautionary tales.

What it is

Two distinct Roman practices, both embedded in the machinery of the state.

Augury is the observation of birds — the word auspicium comes from avis, bird, and specere, to watch. Augurs read the flight, direction, cries and feeding behaviour of birds to determine whether the gods approved of a proposed action.

The crucial point, and the one most often missed: augury was not primarily about the future. It asked whether the gods sanctioned an undertaking now. The question was permission, not prophecy.

Haruspicy is the inspection of the entrails of sacrificed animals, above all the liver — a practice inherited from the Etruscans, along with the specialists who performed it. Haruspices also interpreted lightning strikes and prodigies.

Where it came from

Extispicy — divination from entrails — is far older than Rome. Clay models of sheep livers marked with omen texts survive from Mesopotamia, including from Mari, dating to around 1800 BCE, and the practice is attested across the ancient Near East.

The Etruscans developed their own elaborate system, which Rome adopted. The Piacenza Liver, a bronze model of a sheep's liver found in northern Italy and dating to around 100 BCE, is divided into regions inscribed with the names of deities — a working diagram of which god was implicated by a mark in which zone.

Augury in Rome was institutional. The augurs formed a priestly college, membership was a political prize, and the discipline had its own technical literature and precedent.

How it is practised

The augur marked out a templum, a defined field of observation in the sky, and watched within it. Signs were divided into impetrativa, deliberately sought, and oblativa, offered unbidden — an unexpected omen could interrupt proceedings even when nobody had asked.

Armies on campaign used a portable and simplified version: the sacred chickens. If the birds ate greedily enough that food fell from their beaks — the tripudium — the omens were good.

The constitutional force was real. An augur or magistrate could report an unfavourable sign, declare obnuntiatio, and thereby halt an assembly or postpone an election. This was a political instrument and everyone knew it. Legislation was passed in the late Republic to limit its use for obstruction.

What we can and cannot say

We can say this was serious public business rather than superstition at the margins. Consuls took the auspices before battle; assemblies were dissolved on omens; the calendar of state was organised around it.

We can say the Romans themselves were substantially sceptical, and said so in writing. Cato the Elder, quoted by Cicero, remarked that he wondered how one haruspex could look at another without laughing. Cicero — an augur — wrote the definitive attack on the whole edifice in De Divinatione while defending the retention of the rituals for civic reasons. The gap between official practice and educated private opinion was wide and openly acknowledged.

We can say the best-known cautionary tale is genuinely documented. At Drepana in 249 BCE, the consul Publius Claudius Pulcher consulted the sacred chickens before engaging the Carthaginian fleet. They refused to eat. He is reported to have had them thrown into the sea with the remark that if they would not eat, let them drink — and then lost the battle and most of his fleet. He was prosecuted on his return.

The story is told by Cicero, and later by Livy and Suetonius, as a warning about impiety. Read another way it is a warning about a decision procedure that produced a real answer — the omens being unfavourable may have tracked something about the fleet's readiness, or may not — and a commander who overrode it because he had already decided. Either reading is available, and both were available to Romans, which is why the story survived.

We can say there is no evidence any of it conveyed information. What it conveyed was authority, delay, and a shared procedure for stopping things.

We cannot say the participants were naive. A system openly manipulated for political ends by people who wrote sceptical treatises about it in their spare time is doing something other than what it claims, and the Romans were not the last to run one.

Further reading

  • Cicero, De Divinatione — the ancient critique, by a serving augur.
  • Jerzy Linderski, "The Augural Law" (1986) — the technical study of how augury actually worked constitutionally.
  • The Piacenza Liver, in the Museo Civico of Piacenza — photographs are widely available and worth looking at.