proof against their bites. The Ichneumons or Mangoustes of Africa and
Asia have long been celebrated for their immunity, and veritable stories
have been narrated of their having recourse to some herb, when bitten,
after which they successfully renewed the attack. Percival, in his
account of Ceylon, relates that a Mangouste placed in a close room where
a venomous serpent was, instead of darting at it, as he would ordinarily
have done, ran peeping about anxiously seeking some way of escape; but
finding none it returned to its master, crept into his bosom, and could
by no means be persuaded to face the snake. When, however, both were
removed out of the house into the open field, the Mangouste instantly
flew at the serpent, and soon destroyed it. After the combat the little
quadruped suddenly disappeared for a few minutes, and again returned.
Percival concludes, not unreasonably, that during its absence, it had
found the antidotal herb, and eaten of it. The natives state that the
Mangouste resorts on such occasions to the _Ophiorhiza mungos_, whose
root is reputed a specific for serpents' bites. This is a Cinchonaceous
plant, so intensely bitter that it is called by the Malays by a name
which signifies earth-gall.[189]
Captain Forbes in his interesting account of Dahomey, alludes to these
combats, which he says he has witnessed in India. He says that the
serpent (Cobra) has usually the advantage at first, but the Mangouste
retreating, devours some wild herb, returns and presently conquers.
Sir Emerson Tennent inclines to refer the immunity of the Mangouste to
an inherent property. He remarks that the mystery of its power has been
"referred to the supposition that there may be some peculiarity in its
organisation which renders it _proof against_ the poison of the serpent.
It remains for future investigation to determine how far this conjecture
is founded in truth; and whether in the blood of the Mongoos there
exists any element or quality which acts as a prophylactic. Such
exceptional provisions are not without precedent in the animal economy:
the hornbill feeds with impunity on the deadly fruit of the _Strychnos_;
the milky juice of some species of _Euphorbia_, which is harmless to
oxen, is invariably fatal to the zebra; and the tsetse fly, the pest of
South Africa, whose bite is mortal to the ox, the dog, and the horse, is
harmless to man and the untamed creatures of the forest."[190]
Our own hedgehog possesses the privilege of being unharmed by the venom
of the viper, as is manifest in its frequent contests with it. Mr Slater
has frequently seen combats between these animals, which always
terminated in favour of the hedgehog. The latter seemed perfectly
regardless of the many bites it received on the snout.[191]
To return to Bruce's statements. After describing the little horned
viper of Egypt, the _Cerastes_, and its insidious manner of creeping
towards its victim with its head averted, till within reach, when it
suddenly springs and strikes, he goes on to say: "I saw one of them at
Cairo crawl up the side of a box, in which there were many, and there
lie still as if hiding himself, till one of the people who brought them
to us came near him, and though in a very disadvantageous posture,
sticking, as it were, perpendicularly to the side of the box, he leaped
near the distance of three feet, and fastened between the man's
forefinger and thumb, so as to bring the blood. The fellow shewed no
signs of either pain or fear, and we kept him with us full four hours,
without his applying any sort of remedy, or seeming inclined to do so.
"To make myself assured" (adds Bruce) "that the animal was in its
perfect state, I made the man hold him by the neck, so as to force him
to open his mouth and lacerate the thigh of a pelican, a bird I had
tamed, as big as a swan. The bird died in about thirteen minutes, though
it was apparently affected in fifty seconds; and we cannot think this
was a fair trial, because a very few minutes before it had bit the man,
and so discharged part of its virus, and it was made to scratch the
pelican by force, without any irritation or action of its own.
[Illustration: SNAKE-CHARMING.]
"I will not hesitate to aver," he adds, "that I have seen at Cairo (and
this may be seen daily without trouble or expense) a man, who came from
above the catacombs, where the pits of the mummy-birds are kept, who has
taken a Cerastes with his naked hand from a number of others lying at
the bottom of the tub, has put it upon his bare head, covered it with
the common red cap he wears, then taken it out, put it in his breast,
and tied it about his neck like a necklace, after which it has been
applied to a hen and bit it, which has died in a few minutes;. and, to
complete the experiment, the man has taken it by the neck, and beginning
at its tail, has ate it, as one would do a carrot or a stock of celery,
without any seeming repugnance."[192]
A few years earlier than Bruce, Hasselquist, an enthusiastic young
naturalist, and one of the pupils of Linnaeus, had visited the East. He
paid much attention to the subject, and records his judgment that there
is no delusion in serpent-charming, but that certain persons do really,
in whatever way they effect it, fascinate serpents. "They take the most
poisonous vipers with their bare hands, play with them, put them in
their bosoms, and use a great many more tricks with them, as I have
often seen. The person I saw on the above day had only a small viper,
but I have frequently seen them handle those that are three or four feet
long, and of the most horrid sort. I inquired _and examined_ whether
they cut out the viper's poisonous teeth: but _I have seen with my own
eyes they do not_: we may therefore conclude, that there are to this day
Psylli in Egypt; but what art they use is not generally known. Some
people are very superstitious; and the generality believe this to be
done by some supernatural art, which they obtain from invisible beings;
I do not know whether their power is to be ascribed to good or evil; but
I am persuaded that those who undertake it use many superstitions."
Subsequently we find some details of interest. "Now was the time (July)
to catch all sorts of snakes to be met with in Egypt, the great heats
bringing forth these vermin. I therefore made preparation to get as many
as I could, and at once received four different sorts, which I have
described and preserved in _aqua vitae_. These were the Common Viper, the
Cerastes of Alpin, the Jaculus, and an Anguis Marinus. They were brought
me by a Psylle, who put me, together with the French consul, Sironcourt,
and all the French nation present, in consternation.
"They gathered about us to see how she handled the most poisonous and
dreadful creatures alive and brisk, without their doing or offering to
do her the least harm. When she put them into the bottle where they were
to be preserved, she took them with her bare hands, and handled them as
our ladies do their laces. She had no difficulty with any but the
_Viperae officinales_, which were not fond of their lodging. They found
means to creep out before the bottle could be corked. They crept over
the hands and bare arms of the woman, without occasioning the least fear
in her; she with great calmness took the snakes from her body, and put
them into the place destined for their grave. She had taken these
serpents in the field with the same ease she handled them before us;
this we were told by the Arab who brought her to us. Doubtless this
woman had some unknown art which enabled her to handle those creatures.
It was impossible to get any information from her, for on this subject
she would not open her lips."
He thus sums up the results of his investigations. "The circumstances
relating to the fascination of serpents in Egypt stated to me, were
principally:--
"1st.--That the art is only known to certain families, who propagate it
to their offspring.
"2d.--The person who knows how to fascinate serpents, never meddles with
other poisonous animals; such as scorpions, &c. There are different
persons who know how to fascinate these animals; and they again never
meddle with serpents.
"3d.--Those that fascinate serpents eat them both raw and boiled, and
even make broth of them, which they eat very commonly amongst them; but
in particular they eat such a dish when they go out to catch them. I
have been told that serpents, fried or boiled, are frequently eaten by
the Arabians, both in Egypt and Arabia, though they know not how to
fascinate them, but catch them either alive or dead.
"4th.--After they have eaten their soup, they procure a blessing from
their scheik, who uses some superstitious ceremonies, and, amongst
others, spits on them several times with certain gestures."
The blessing of the priest, Hasselquist pronounces correctly enough to
be mere superstition; we may fairly conclude that the eating of the
snakes is also irrelevant,--both of these circumstances being calculated
to increase popular wonder only, and to lead the observers from the true
scent, which probably is the employment of preventive simples.
Hasselquist had been told of a plant with which the charmers anointed
or rubbed themselves before they touched the serpents; but, as no such
plant was produced to him, he regarded it as fabulous. We have seen
reason, however, to conclude that the real key to the mystery lies
there.[193]
The ancients believed that the human spittle was so fatal to serpents
that much of the secret of charming lay in the knowledge of this fact.
Of course this would make Psylli of all men; but there may be this
measure of truth in the supposition, that the natural exudations of a
human body which has been bathed or rubbed with a penetrating
alexipharmic, may be so impregnated with the odour, as to be peculiarly
repellent of the snake. Denham describes a scene of snake-charming in
which the spittle played an important part. A juggler brought him in a
bag two venomous snakes, which he set at liberty, beginning to beat a
little drum. They immediately reared themselves on their tails, moving
in a sort of dance. The juggler played various tricks with them,
sometimes wreathing them round his neck, coiling them in his bosom, or
throwing them among the people. On pointing his finger at their mouth,
they immediately raised themselves in attitude to spring forward and
strike; but after having exasperated them to the utmost, _he had only to
spit in their face_, to make them retreat quite crest-fallen. From his
description these seem to have been of the genus _Naia_, upwards of six
feet long, and very venomous. The fangs, he says, had been extracted;
but still, to guard against all possible injury, the fellow who played
tricks with them had a large roll of cloth wound round the right
arm.[194]
The influence of music on the serpents seems to be universally assumed
as a part of the professional snake-charmer's success. The ancient
Psylli who were employed to prevent the Roman camp from being troubled
with venomous serpents, marched around it, chanting mystic songs.[195]
Johnson describes the very clever snake-catchers of India as pretending
to draw them from their holes by a song, and by playing a plaintive tune
on an instrument somewhat resembling an Irish bagpipe.[196] He says,
indeed, that this is all delusion; but Forbes, in his "Oriental
Memoirs," allows its reality. A learned native of India assured Sir
William Jones that he had frequently seen the most venomous and
malignant snakes leave their holes upon hearing notes from a flute,
which, as he supposed, gave them peculiar delight.
The Egyptian snake-charmer assumes an air of mystery, strikes the walls
with a short palm-stick, whistles, makes a clucking noise with his
tongue, and says, "I adjure you, by God, if ye be above, or if ye be
below, that ye come forth; I adjure you by the most great Name, if ye be
obedient, come forth, and if ye be disobedient, die, die, die!"[197] The
late Dr W. A. Bromfield, in some extracts from his letters published in
the _Zoologist_,[198] confirms this:--"The chief actor was a
fine-looking man, with a handsome and intelligent, but peculiar cast of
countenance. He carried a stick in his hand, with which, on entering
each apartment, he struck the wall several times, uttering, in a low,
measured tone, a form of exorcism in Arabic; adjuring and commanding the
serpent--which he declared, immediately on the door being thrown open,
was lurking in the walls or ceiling--to come forth. Presently, the
reptile would be seen emerging from some hole or corner, with which
every room, even in the better class of Egyptian houses, abounds; on
which the enchanter would draw the unwilling serpent towards him, with
the point of the stick, and when within reach put it in the bag he
carried about with him for that purpose."
Chateaubriand has drawn a graphic picture of the power of music on the
American Rattlesnake. The serpent happening to enter the encampment of
his party in Canada, a Canadian who could play on the flute, advanced,
by way of diversion, with his magic pipe, against it. On his approach
the haughty reptile curled itself into a spiral line, flattened its
head, inflated its cheeks, contracted its lips, displayed its envenomed
fangs, and its bloody throat; its double tongue glowed like two flames
of fire; its eyes were burning coals; its body, swollen with rage, rose
and fell like the bellows of a forge; its dilated skin assumed a dull
and scaly appearance; and its rattle, which sounded the denunciation of
death, vibrated with extreme velocity. The Canadian now began to play
upon his flute: the serpent started with surprise, and drew back its
head. In proportion as it was struck with the magic effect, its eyes
lost their fierceness, the vibrations of its tail became slower, and the
sound which it emitted gradually became weaker and ceased. The folds of
the fascinated Serpent became less perpendicular upon their spiral line,
expanded by degrees, and sunk one after another upon the ground, forming
concentric circles. The colours recovered their brilliancy on its
quivering skin; and, slightly turning its head, it remained motionless
in the attitude of attention and pleasure. At this moment, the Canadian
advanced a few steps, producing with his flute sweet and simple notes.
The Reptile inclined its variegated neck, opened a passage with its head
through the high grass, and began to creep after the musician, stopping
when he stopped, and following him again as soon as he moved forward. In
this manner, to the astonishment both of Europeans and natives, he was
led out of the camp; and it was unanimously decreed, that the life of a
creature so sensible of the concord of sweet sounds should be
spared.[199]
Some allowance in the colouring of this picture, which must be allowed
to be beautifully painted, may possibly be made to the poetical
imagination of the narrator, for Chateaubriand could not tell a story
without embellishing it _suo more_. We may, however, accept the main
facts, confirmed as they are by the experience of other observers in
other countries.
Mr Gogerly, a missionary of some standing in India observes that some
persons who were incredulous on the subject, after taking the most
careful precautions against any trick or artifice being played, sent a
charmer into the garden to prove his powers;--the man began to play upon
his pipe, and proceeding from one part of the garden to another, for
some minutes stopped at a part of the wall much injured by age, and
intimated that a serpent was within. He then played quicker, and his
notes were louder, when almost immediately a large Cobra di Capello put
forth its hooded head, and the man ran fearlessly to the spot, seized it
by the throat, and drew it forth. He then shewed the poison fangs, and
beat them out; afterwards it was taken to the room where his baskets
were left, and deposited among the rest. The snake-charmer, observes the
same writer, applies his pipe to his mouth, and sends forth a few of his
peculiar notes, and all the serpents stop as though enchanted; they then
turn towards the musician, and approaching him within two feet raise
their heads from the ground, and bending backwards and forwards, keep
time with the tune. When he ceases playing, they drop their heads and
remain quiet on the ground.
The _Penny Magazine_ for April 1833, contains the following very precise
and circumstantial narrative, communicated by a gentleman of high
station at Madras:--"One morning, as I sat at breakfast, I heard a loud
noise and shouting among my palankeen-bearers. On inquiry, I learned
that they had seen a large hooded snake, and were trying to kill it. I
immediately went out, and saw the snake creeping up a very high green
mound, whence it escaped into a hole in an old wall of ancient
fortification; the men were armed with their sticks, which they always
carry in their hands, and had attempted in vain to kill the reptile,
which had eluded their pursuit, and in his hole had coiled himself up
secure, whilst we could see his bright eyes shining. I had often desired
to ascertain the truth of the report, as to the effect of music upon
snakes. I therefore inquired for a snake-catcher. I was told there was
no person of the kind in the village; but after a little inquiry, I
heard there was one in a village distant about three miles. I
accordingly sent for him, keeping a strict watch over the snake, which
never attempted to escape, whilst we, his enemies, were in sight. About
an hour elapsed, when my messenger returned bringing a snake-catcher.
This man wore no covering on his head, nor any on his person, excepting
a small piece of cloth round his loins; he had in his hands two baskets,
one containing tame snakes, the other empty: these and his musical pipe
were the only things he had with him. I made the snake-catcher leave his
two baskets on the ground, at some distance, while he ascended the mound
with his pipe alone. He began to play: at the sound of the music the
snake came gradually and slowly out of his hole. When he was entirely
within reach, the snake-catcher seized him dexterously by the tail and
held him thus at arm's length; whilst the snake, enraged, darted his
head in all directions, but in vain: thus suspended, he has not the
power to round himself, so as to seize hold of his tormentor. He
exhausted himself in vain exertions; when the snake-catcher descended
the bank, dropped him into the empty basket, and closed the lid: he then
began to play, and after a short time, raised the lid of the basket; the
snake darted about wildly, and attempted to escape; the lid was shut
down again quickly, the music always playing. This was repeated two or
three times; and in a very short interval, the lid being raised, the
snake sat on his tail, opened his hood and danced quite as quietly as
the tame snakes in the other basket, nor did he attempt again to escape.
This, having witnessed with my own eyes, I can assert as a fact."
Experienced and skilful as these men are, however, they do not
invariably escape with impunity. Fatal terminations to these exhibitions
of the psyllic art now and then occur, for there are still to be found
"deaf adders, which will not hearken to the voice of charmers, charming
never so wisely." In Madras, a few years ago, a noted serpent-charmer
chanced one morning to get hold of a Cobra of considerable size, which
he got conveyed to his home. He was occupied abroad all day, and had not
time to get the dangerous fangs extracted from the Serpent's mouth. This
at least is the probable solution of the matter. In the evening he
returned to his dwelling, considerably excited with liquor, and began to
exhibit tricks with his snakes to various persons who were around him at
the time. The newly-caught Cobra was brought out with the others, and
the man, spirit-valiant, commenced to handle the stranger like the rest.
But the Cobra darted at his chin, and bit it, making two marks like pin
points. The poor juggler was sobered in an instant. "I am a dead man,"
he exclaimed. The prospect of immediate death made the maintenance of
his professional mysticism a thing of no moment. "Let the creature
alone," said he to those about him, who would have killed the Cobra; "it
may be of service to others who are of my trade. To me it can be of no
more use. Nothing can save me." His professional knowledge was but too
accurate. In two hours he was a corpse! The narrator saw him a short
time after he died. His friends and brother jugglers had gathered around
him, and had him placed on a chair in a sitting position. Seeing the
detriment likely to result to their trade and interests from such a
notion, they vehemently asserted that it was not the envenomed bite
which had killed him. "No, no; he only forgot one little word--one small
portion of the charm." In fact, they declared that he was not dead at
all, but only in a sort of swoon, from which, according to the rules of
the cabalistic art, he would recover in seven days. But the officers of
the barracks, close to which the deceased had lived, interfered in the
matter. They put a guard of one or two men on the house, declaring that
they would allow the body to remain unburied for seven days, but would
not permit any trickery. Of course the poor serpent-charmer never came
to life again. His death, and the manner of it, gave a severe blow, as
has been already hinted, to the art and practice of snake-charming in
Madras.
Roberts also mentions the instance of a man who came to a gentleman's
house to exhibit tame snakes, and on being told that a Cobra, or Hooded
Snake was in a cage in the house, was asked if he could charm it; on his
replying in the affirmative, the Serpent was released from the cage,
and, no doubt, in a state of high irritation. The man began his
incantations, and repeated his charms, but the Snake darted at him,
fastened upon his arm, and before night he was a corpse.
These failures, rare and abnormal as they confessedly are, do not by any
means disprove the reality of snake-charming; they certainly shew that
the men believe in their own powers. It may be, as some Europeans have
maintained, that in India, the exhibitors usually practise upon tame
snakes, from which they have already extracted the fangs, or even
eradicated the poison sacs,--an operation performed without difficulty
by making an incision beneath and behind each eye. Or it may be that the
power of music over these reptiles is ordinarily relied on, and that in
rare instances this fails. I have myself taken fierce and active
lizards, in Jamaica, by a noose of string, while whistling a lively
tune. As soon as the whistling commenced, the lizard would become still
on the trunk or the branch of a tree, and so remain unmoved, with a
sleepy look all the while I was searching up the string, preparing the
noose, and presenting it to him, giving just a backward glance of his
eye, as the noose slipped over his head, the whistling going on
vigorously all the time, of course, till the cord being jerked tight, he
suddenly found himself dangling in the air at the end of a stick, and
began to wriggle and writhe, and scratch and bite furiously.
One thing seems clear from these accidents. The Indian _samp-wallahs_ do
not use any infusion or unguent to stupefy and disarm their snakes, as
do those of Ethiopia. If these men just mentioned had been so protected
they would not have been killed, however rash or pot-valiant they might
have been. Indeed the accounts of Bruce and others of the African
professors of the psyllic art, and the phenomena of the serpents acted
upon, differ greatly from descriptions of parallel exhibitions in India,
and suggest diverse modes of explanation.
A dozen years ago there were a couple of oriental Psylli performing at
the Zoological Gardens. Mr Brodcrip has given a very graphic sketch of
their performance as he saw it in the Reptile House. The two Arabs took
up their position on the floor, the company standing in a semicircle at
a respectful distance.