THE ÆSCULAPIAN STAFF AND SERPENT.
The staff[157] and serpent of Æsculapius being of special emblematic
significance, I deem it proper to speak of it at some length. The
confusion of ideas which appears to prevail extensively in regard to it
implies that a definite, explicit account of it is much needed.
Although, as will be remembered, Ovid makes Æsculapius refer to his
serpent-enwreathed staff when addressing the commission which came from
Rome to Epidaurus, in the famous representation of him given there, none
was present. The poet may possibly have been misled by what had become
familiar to him at home; for one was to be seen in connection with the
statue of the god at Rome. It is probable, however, that it was a common
occurrence for a living serpent, one of the species kept and viewed as
sacred in the Hierum, to climb the staff in the hand of the Epidaurian
statue.
It is very likely that the staff bearing a serpent became a
characteristic emblem of the god of medicine through the great work of
the sculptor, Pyromachus, at the Asclepion of Pergamus, which I have
already described. The appropriateness of it was widely recognized, but
it was not always adopted, as is attested by the remains of ancient art.
Apart from the serpent, the import of which will be fully treated of in
the succeeding chapter, the staff as an attribute of Æsculapius merits
study. Like many other apparently simple things in art, it may stand for
a great deal more than one would suppose on first view.
The object encircled by a serpent held in the hand of the Æsculapian
statue by Pyromachus, at Pergamus, is evidently a walking-stick. The
Epidaurian statue has a similar object in one of the hands, and the same
is the case in many others. Hence, as the representations of the gods
of the ancients had rarely or never anything but significant attributes
attached to them, it is pertinent to ask an explanation of its presence.
Was there an historical basis for it? In other words, was Æsculapius
notoriously in the habit of carrying a staff? If so, it is possible that
this was why Pyromachus, Thrasymedes, and other artists connected one
with figures of him. But there is no special reason for believing that
such was the case.[158]
[Illustration: FIG. 3.—CLUB OR STAFF OF ÆSCULAPIUS. (_From Maffei._)]
Then, did the artists place a staff in the hand of Æsculapius of their
own accord to indicate the perambulatory character of the physician’s
calling? Such an attribute was doubtless deemed appropriate by them;
but, before one could believe that they gave it on the score of apparent
appropriateness, it would have to be shown that it was in the power of
artists to design gods at pleasure,—something which could not be done.
They evolved it, I may venture to say, from something allied in form.
There is little or no ground for believing that the staff of Æsculapius
was a wonder-working object. I am not aware that such a thing was
placed intentionally in his hand by any artist. Hence, the references
often made to the mystic wand of the god spring from misapprehension, a
walking-staff being something very different.
One can obtain, I believe, from an examination of the Berlin statue and
others,—in which Æsculapius is represented leaning on, or standing by, a
post of variable thickness and more or less regular in shape,—a clue to
an explanation of the origin of the staff. Between the two objects the
difference is not great, certainly not radical; and as attributes they
might be expressive of the same thing. The club shown in the picture
(Fig. 3), from Maffei, might be viewed as intermediate.
Of course, I do not say that the prototype of the staff was the post
present in some representations of Æsculapius, although the idea would
not be entirely unreasonable. There is more ground for the opinion that
both were, so to speak, the offspring of something else.
Any one familiar with the antique representations of Æsculapius, and who
has also seen different ones of Apollo, might well be inclined to believe
that both gods have essentially the same thing by their side, namely, a
post with a clinging serpent. And when it is recalled that Æsculapius
was the son of Apollo, the opinion might be advanced with some degree of
reasonableness, that the emblem of the former was, in reality, that of
the latter, somewhat modified.
Tracing thus the origin of the staff of Æsculapius to the related symbol
possessed by his father, Apollo, it would not be satisfactory to rest
here; one naturally wants to know something about the latter. A few
words, however, on the subject must suffice.
Although it was not an uncommon thing for artists to give posts by
the side of statues, the one bearing the serpent in, say, the Apollo
Belvedere, was, it is thought, meant to represent the Omphalos, to which
the Grecians attached much significance.
The Omphalos,[159] in the form of a conical stone, was kept, and was
present within historical times, as Strabo explicitly states, at Delphi,
a place which, he says, “was supposed to be the centre of the habitable
earth, and was called the navel of the earth.”[160] Plato refers to
Apollo as “the god whose seat is the middle point of the earth, its very
navel.”[161] According to a legend,[162] Delphi was esteemed the centre
of the earth, because two eagles sent out by Zeus, one from the east and
the other from the west, met at that point. Says Strabo: “In the temple
is seen a sort of navel, wrapped in bands and surmounted by figures
representing the birds of the fable.”[163]
The etymology of the word _Omphalos_ casts light on its meaning. Olympos,
the mount of the gods, is a corruption of it. _Omphi-el_[164] is the
oracle of the sun-god. _Al-omphi_ was used to designate hills, or
mountains. Holwell says that the word came from Egypt, and was originally
_Ompha-el_, and related to the oracle of Ham, or the sun.[165] The idea
of a sacred mount or elevation is thus the original meaning of the word.
And here I may say that in Hindu mythology considerable is said of a
mountain encircled by a great serpent.[166]
Let it not be supposed that the reasons in favor of the idea that the
Omphalos became the staff of Æsculapius are entirely insubstantial.
Remains of ancient art furnish excellent proof of it. Müller says: “In
a Pompeian picture, Æsculapius has beside him the Omphalos, which is
entwisted with the well-known net, composed of στέμµατα. We see from this
that this symbol of Apollo was also transferred to his son. On the coins
of the gens Rubria, likewise, it is not an egg, as is usually asserted,
but _the Omphalos placed on a circular altar that is encircled by the
Æsculapian serpent_.”[167]
To one versed in the history of Phœnicia and other Oriental countries,
the Omphalos is very certain to be viewed in another light than as a
symbol of a “high place,” or mount[168] of worship. In the great Tyrian
Temple of Baal Melkarth, which Herodotus went to see and admired much,
and of which that of Solomon, or, rather, of Jehovah on Mount Moriah
was almost a copy, even to the two pillars in front,—symbols of the
sun-god,—were certain similar stones, carefully preserved and duly
reverenced. These, it is well known, were of procreative import; they
were phallic in character.[169] Was the Omphalos of similar significance?
There is little reason to doubt that it was often regarded in that light.
“In the earliest times,” says Müller, “a conical pillar, placed in the
street and called Apollo Agyicus, sufficed to keep in remembrance the
protecting and health-bringing power of the god.”[170]
The staff, then, in the hand of Æsculapius may have had its prototype
in the Phallus,—truly both an expressive and sublime symbol, when
contemplated by pure, enlightened minds.
But, notwithstanding what I have said, one might present some arguments
in favor of the view that the staff of Æsculapius had its true prototype
in a magic wand or symbol of office. As will be pointed out later, the
Accadio-sumerian, Silik-mulu-khi, the beneficent son of Hea, subsequently
Marodach or Marduk of the Babylonians and Assyrians, a healing divinity,
from whom the conception of Æsculapius may have partly sprung, carried a
reed when attending to his duties.
I may say, too, that some hold the staff in the hand of the Egyptian
Thoth to have been the original of the one accorded Æsculapius. Thus,
in an excellent and finely illustrated essay, W. R. Cooper says: “When
once the uræus had been associated with the idea of divinity, the
Theban priests, rightly desiring to ascribe the gift of life and the
power of healing to the Deity alone, significantly enough twined the
serpent around the trident of Jupiter Ammon and the staff of Thoth or
Hermes Trismegistus, the author of medicine, to imply the source from
which that subordinate demigod’s virtues were derived. From this, in
the later periods of her history, Egypt remitted to Greece, along with
the so-called forty-six hermetic treatises, the traditional _caduceus_
or serpent-sceptre of Cyllenius[171] and Æsculapius, and, by subsequent
transformation of the same deities into a feminine form, the snake and
bowl of Hygeia, the goddess of health.”[172] The “serpent-sceptre” which
Egypt “remitted” to Cyllenius and to Æsculapius must have changed greatly
in the passage, for it is anything but alike as seen in the hands of the
two, and in neither case is it very similar to the asserted original. As
well or better to take the staff and serpent to be the serpent-bearing
tree,—the tree of life in miniature.
However, the fact remains, as already stated, that Æsculapius had no
wand; that is, a rod of magic power. The very different personage,
Hermes, as also Iris, the female messenger of the goddesses, had a
wand or, rather, _caduceus_, which, strange to say, is taken by many
to be a symbol of medicine; that is, the caduceus of Hermes, which is
not of medical import at all, is accorded to Æsculapius, who really
had none. I repeat: there is no such thing as an Æsculapian wand, if
wand be taken to mean a rod possessed of wonder-working power. But, of
course, the serpent-bearing staff of Æsculapius is an expressive medical
emblem.[173] I give an example after one in a plate in De Wilde’s rare
old book.[174] One might take the serpent to be a symbol of the god and
the staff as symbolic of the moving of the physician from house to house
in the exercise of his profession. Regarding the knots as expressive
of difficulties in the art and practice of medicine is very fanciful,
but not infrequently done. It is proper to observe, however, that the
physician’s staff in modern times is smooth, as will be pointed out later.
I deem it not amiss to give a cut of the caduceus of Hermes, in the
hope of better removing misapprehension in regard to it. I give it as
shown on the seal of the United States Marine-Hospital Service. It is
an appropriate trade symbol, Hermes being the god of commerce[175] as
well as the messenger of the gods; but it is more especially a symbol of
peace, the god being the great peace-maker. (See Fig. 5.)
[Illustration: FIG. 4.—STAFF AND SERPENT OF ÆSCULAPIUS.]
Traditional history relates that, in his rambles one day, Hermes saw
two snakes fighting, and, laying his wand—which was originally an
olive-branch received from Apollo—between them, was delighted to discover
that it had the power of putting an end to the encounter, and of turning
the two into friends. Hence the presence of the two serpents on the wand,
the _virga_ of the Romans. The tradition was likely in the nature of an
after-thought. If the two serpents be taken to represent two contending
persons, or nations, the mission of the ambassador with his wand or mace,
the symbol of authority, is well indicated.
[Illustration: FIG. 5.—THE CADUCEUS OF HERMES.]
The two serpents on the caduceus have been taken to be male and female,
and in an amatory mood.[176] Thus, says Aubrey, “The caduceus of Mercurie
is adorned with two serpents in the posture of generation.”[177] Pliny
expressed an opinion similar to that of Aubrey.[178] This view was
adopted by the London medical publishers, the Churchills, as will be seen
on looking at the title-page of their books issued until recently. For
instance, on the title-page of Pettigrew’s “Superstitions Connected with
Medicine and Surgery,” issued in 1844, between two concentric circles
surrounding the caduceus, are the words, _Irrupta tenet copula_, with
_Literis medicina_ on the serpents. Later, the first phrase was dropped
and the other put in its place. For some years caduceus and all have very
properly been left out.
Hermes was accorded some functions by the Greeks which may well cause the
physician to feel that it is not very complimentary to associate either
him or the caduceus with his art, even if he be one who regards it
chiefly as a trade. Thus, Hermes, being an adept thief, was classed as
the god of rogues. And this brings to mind the remark of some one, that,
if medicine be a trade, it is the trade of all others the most exactly
cut out for a rogue. Again, it was the function of Hermes, very like that
of the archangel Michael, “to draw the souls from hollow graves,” and
“drive them down the Stygian waves,” with his caduceus, as we are told by
Virgil.[179] It is hardly a part of the physician’s function, I submit,
to drive souls “down the Stygian waves;” certainly, no one professes to
do it.