Curses have walked hand‑in‑hand with humanity since the earliest whispers of civilization. For countless generations, people have flung hexes at rivals, invoking the wrath of gods, spirits, and the unseen forces that govern fate. Some curses were spoken aloud, others were etched onto objects—especially the very bones and belongings of the departed. In this roundup we explore ten notorious examples of 10 mysterious ancient curses that have left archaeologists, historians, and thrill‑seekers alike both shivering and fascinated.
10 mysterious ancient curses explored
10 Pella Curse Tablet
Back in 1986, a team digging through the ruins of Pella—the bustling capital of ancient Macedon—unearthed a small lead scroll that would rewrite our understanding of love‑driven curses. Dated between 375 and 350 BC, the tablet bears a heartfelt plea from a woman named Dagina, who implores the gods to intervene in a love triangle: her beloved, Dionysophon, is on the verge of marrying another woman, and Dagina wants him for herself.
The language on the tablet is strikingly colloquial, far removed from the lofty diction of the Macedonian court. Linguists therefore deduced that Dagina hailed from a lower social stratum, and the tablet provides rare proof that everyday Macedonians spoke a Doric‑Greek vernacular. This linguistic clue has helped scholars map the evolution of regional dialects across the ancient Greek world.
Known as a “binding tablet,” this kind of curse was a concise method for petitioners to ask divine powers for aid—or to lay a hex on an unwelcome rival. Archaeologists have catalogued roughly 1,600 Greek curse tablets, and the Pella find holds the distinction of being the oldest discovered to date.
9 The Curse Of King Casimir
When researchers pried open the tomb of Polish monarch King Casimir IV Jagiellon in 1973, a chilling pattern emerged: within weeks, four of the twelve scientists involved had died. Over the ensuing years, a further dozen colleagues succumbed to cancers and other fatal ailments, bringing the total death toll among those who handled the king’s remains to fifteen.
Casimir, who reigned from 1447 to 1492, was a formidable military leader—defeating the Teutonic Order and reclaiming Pomerania for his dynasty. Yet after his death, his body decomposed alarmingly fast due to inclement weather, prompting embalmers to seal his coffin hastily with resin. This well‑intentioned act unintentionally turned the coffin into a fungal time bomb.
The so‑called “curse” was in fact an outbreak of Aspergillus flavus, a deadly mold that thrives in ancient burial chambers. When the resin‑sealed coffin was opened, spores were released, infecting everyone in the vicinity. The same fungus was later blamed for the infamous “curse of Tutankhamun,” which claimed the lives of several Egyptologists.
8 Jacques De Molay’s Malediction
By the twilight of the 13th century, the Knights Templar had amassed a fortune rivaling that of many kingdoms, operating an early form of international banking. Their wealth and influence made them a target for King Philip IV of France, who habitually borrowed from the order without any intention of repayment.In 1307, Philip colluded with Pope Clement V to arrest the Templars, stripping Grand Master Jacques de Molay of his authority. De Molay endured years of torture and imprisonment before being sentenced to a fiery death in 1314.
With his final breath, de Molay hurled a curse at his persecutors, predicting that both Pope Clement and King Philip would meet their ends within a year and that Philip’s lineage would be erased. The prophecy proved eerily accurate: Clement succumbed to a lethal disease shortly thereafter, Philip suffered a fatal stroke, and by 1328 every one of Philip’s sons and grandsons had perished.
7 The Curse Of St. Anne’s Well
In 2016, a team of archaeologists uncovered a medieval well near Liverpool that locals had long whispered was cursed. The well was linked to the cult of St. Anne, a saint whose name was traditionally associated with healing springs that could cure skin and eye ailments.
For centuries a nearby priory of twelve monks tended the well, believing its waters possessed miraculous properties. Tensions flared in the 16th century when Father Delwaney, the priory’s caretaker, and a local landowner, Hugh Darcy, both laid claim to the spring’s ownership.
Darcy boldly predicted that Delwaney’s access would soon be denied. Within two days, King Henry VIII’s forces seized the priory and the well, igniting a bitter dispute. In response, Delwaney cursed Darcy, only to collapse dead on the spot himself.
Legend says that three months later Darcy’s son died of an inexplicable illness, Darcy suffered crushing financial losses, and a year and a day after the curse was uttered, Darcy was discovered at the bottom of the well with his skull shattered.
6 Commercial Rivalry Curses
In 2003, excavations in the heart of ancient Athens revealed the cremated remains of a woman alongside five lead curse tablets dated to the fifth century BC. The tablets, each bearing a malediction, were aimed at rival tavern owners—a clear sign that commercial competition could spark supernatural retaliation.
The language on the tablets is remarkably sophisticated, suggesting that a professional scribe crafted them. Unusually, the author invoked Artemis, the goddess who protected women and girls, perhaps to lend divine weight to the curses.
Four of the tablets bear explicit accusations against different tavern keepers; the fifth was left blank, perhaps as a contingency. All were hammered through with a nail, a ritual act meant to bind the curse’s power to the earth.
5 Broken Assyrian Stele
When archaeologists probed the ancient site of Dur‑Katlimmu in 1897, they uncovered a massive basalt stele that bore an Assyrian curse dating to 800 BC. The stone, now split in two, resides in separate collections: the upper half lives in the British Museum, while the lower half was auctioned off, with no current plan to reunite the pieces.
The cuneiform inscription petitions the deity Salmanu to safeguard King Adad‑Nirari III, his priesthood, and the Assyrian populace, while simultaneously threatening anyone who dares to remove the monument from its rightful place. The curse is a stark reminder that ancient rulers used stone to cement both their authority and their vengeance.
Assyrian empires were masters of propaganda; steles like this one served as intimidating messages to foreign emissaries, symbols of royal power, and protective talismans against internal rivals.
4 The City That Jesus Cursed
The Gospels of Luke and Matthew record that Jesus pronounced a curse on Chorazin, one of three towns that rejected his miracles. Despite witnessing numerous wonders, the inhabitants of this Galilean settlement failed to repent, prompting the biblical rebuke.
Archaeologists in the late 19th century excavated an ancient synagogue at Chorazin, built from black basalt and featuring a monolithic Seat of Moses. The structure also displayed snake‑headed gorgon carvings, adding a layer of ominous symbolism.
Early church historian Eusebius noted that by AD 330 the city had been razed by an earthquake—an event he attributed to the curse pronounced by Jesus. Modern scholarship, however, debates whether Chorazin even existed in the first‑century CE, leaving the curse’s historicity shrouded in mystery.
3 The Wrath Of The Fairies
Irish folklore warns that any enterprise daring to build over a fairy‑fort—a ring fort dating to AD 800—will be struck by misfortune. The fort in Waterford, once a fortified farmstead, later became associated with leprechauns and other fairy folk who were believed to guard the land.
West Pharmaceutical Services, a US‑based company, has ignored the legend and begun construction of a new plant atop the ancient earthwork. Because locals refuse to assist, the firm has had to import labor from distant regions. While the company collaborates with the National Monuments Office to excavate the site before building, many locals maintain that the curse is a matter of “when,” not “if,” predicting that the factory will eventually shutter under supernatural pressure.
2 The Croesus Treasure’s Trail Of Misery
In 1965, a Turkish village uncovered a glittering hoard within a tomb in western Turkey. The 363 silver and gold objects—later dubbed the Croesus Treasure after the famed Lydian king—were initially celebrated as a remarkable find.
However, a series of tragic events soon followed. One grave robber lost three children to violent deaths; another became paralyzed; a third endured a bitter divorce, after which his son took his own life. The final thief descended into madness, obsessively claiming he had hidden forty barrels of gold somewhere nearby.
The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York purchased the treasure, initially labeling it as “Greek” to mask its true Lydian origin. In 1987, just three days before the museum would have taken full ownership, the Turkish government intervened, sparking a six‑year legal battle that ended with the treasure’s repatriation to Turkey.
1 The Curse Of The Sarcophagus
In 1923, a rain‑triggered landslide exposed nine rock‑cut tombs in the Phoenician city of Byblos, revealing the limestone sarcophagus of King Ahiram—an enigmatic ruler dating to roughly 1000 BC. This sarcophagus is the only surviving artifact directly linked to Ahiram.
The sarcophagus bears an inscription that not only chronicles its construction by Ahiram’s son Ittobaal but also delivers a stern warning to any would‑be grave robbers. Ironically, the tomb had already been looted by the time modern archaeologists uncovered it.
Scholars prize the inscription because it contains 19 of the 22 letters of the fully developed Phoenician alphabet, making it the oldest known example of that script. While Egyptian influence pervaded Byblos, Ahiram’s sarcophagus showcases distinct Phoenician characteristics—its dress, beard, and hair styles point to Northern Syrian origins rather than Egyptian ones.
Abraham Rinquist, the executive director of the Winooski, Vermont, branch of the Helen Hartness Flanders Folklore Society, has highlighted the sarcophagus in his works, including Codex Exotica and Song‑Catcher: The Adventures of Blackwater Jukebox, underscoring the enduring fascination with this cursed relic.