(Vol. ii., p. 130.; Vol. vi., p. 177.--Vol. iii., p. 490.; Vol. vi., pp.
42. 147.)
Loskiel, in his account of the Moravian missions to the North American
Indians[5], tells us that,--
"The Indians are remarkably skilled in curing the bite of venomous
serpents, and have found a medicine peculiarly adapted to the bite of
each species. For example, the leaf of the Rattlesnake-root (_Polygala
senega_) is the most efficacious remedy against the bite of this
dreadful animal. God has mercifully granted it to grow in the greatest
plenty in all parts most infested by the rattlesnake. It is very
remarkable that this herb acquires its greatest perfection just at the
time when the bite of these serpents is the most dangerous....
Virginian Snake-root (_Aristolochia serpentaria_) chewed, makes also an
excellent poultice for wounds of this sort.... The fat of the serpent
itself, rubbed into the wound, is thought to be efficacious. The flesh
of the rattlesnake, dried and boiled to a broth, is said to be more
nourishing than that of the viper, and of service in consumptions.
Their gall is likewise used as medicine."--P. 146.
Pigs are excepted from the dreadful effects of their bite; they will even
attack and eat them. It is said that, _if a rattlesnake is irritated and
cannot be revenged, it bites itself, and dies in a few hours_:
"Wird dieses Thier zornig gemacht, und es kann sich nicht raechen, so
beiszt es sich selbst, und in wenig Stunden ist es todt."--P. 113.[6]
"I have seen some of our Canadians eat these rattlesnakes repeatedly.
The flesh is very white, and they assured me had a delicious taste.
Their manner of dressing them is very simple.... Great caution,
however, is required in killing a snake for eating; for if the first
blow fails, or only partially stuns him, _he instantly bites himself in
different parts of the body, which thereby become poisoned_, and would
prove fatal to any person who should partake of it."--Cox's _Adv. on
the Columbia River_: Lond. 1832, p. 74.
"Dr. Fordyce knew the black servant of an Indian merchant in America,
who was fond of soup made of rattlesnakes, in which he always boiled
the head along with the rest of the animal, without any regard to the
poisons."--Rees's _Cyclopaedia_.
"There is a religious sect in Africa, not far from Algiers, which eat
the most venomous serpents _alive_; and certainly, it is said, without
extracting their fangs. They declare they enjoy the privilege from
their founder. The creatures writhe and struggle between their teeth;
but possibly, if they do bite them, the bite is innocuous."
Mrs. Crowe, in the concluding chapter of her _Night-side of Nature_, gives
the testimony of an eye-witness to "the singular phenomenon to be observed
by placing a scorpion and a mouse together under a glass."
"It is known that _stags renew their age by eating serpents_; so the
phoenix is restored by the nest of spices she makes to burn in. The
pelican hath the same virtue, whose right foot, if it be put under hot
dung, after three months a pelican will be bred from it. Wherefore some
physicians, with some confections made of _a viper_ and hellebore, and
of some of the flesh of these creatures, _do promise to restore youth,
and sometimes they do it_."[7]
On reading any of our old herbalists, one would imagine that serpents (and
those of the worst kind) abounded in "Merrie Englande," and that they were
the greatest bane of our lives. It is {40} hard to stumble on a plant that
is not an antidote to the bite of serpents. Our old herbals were compiled,
however, almost entirely from the writings of the ancients, and from
foreign sources. The ancients had a curious notion relative to the plant
Basil (_Oscimum basilicum_), viz., "That there is a property in Basil to
propagate scorpions, and that the smell thereof they are bred in the brains
of men." Others deny this wonderful property, and make Basil a simple
antidote.
"According unto Oribasius, physician unto Julian, the Africans, men
best experienced in poisons, affirm, whosoever hath eaten Basil,
although he be stung with a scorpion, shall feel no pain thereby, which
is a very different effect, and rather antidotally destroying than
seminally promoting its production."--Sir Thomas Browne, _Vulgar
Errors._
An old writer gives the following anecdote in point:
"Francis Marcio, an eminent statesman of Genoa, having sent an
ambassador from that republic to the Duke of Milan, when he could
neither procure an audience of leave from that prince, nor yet prevail
with him to ratify his promises made to the Genoese, taking a fit
opportunity, presented a handful of the herb Basil to the duke. The
duke, somewhat surprised, asked what that meant? 'Sir,' replied the
ambassador, 'this herb is of that nature, that if you handle it gently
without squeezing, it will emit a pleasant and grateful scent; but if
you squeeze and gripe it, 'twill not only lose its colour, but it _will
become productive of scorpions_ in a little time."--_The Entertainer_:
London, 1717, p. 23.
Pliny tells us that a decoction from the leaves of the ash tree, given as a
drink, is such a remedy that "nothing so soveraigne can be found against
the poison of serpents;" and farther:
"That a _serpent dare not come neare the shaddow of that tree_. The
serpent will chuse rather to goe into the fire than to flie from it to
the leaves of the ash. A wonderful goodnesse of Dame Nature, that the
ash doth bloome and flourish alwaies before that serpents come abroad,
and never sheddeth leaves, but continueth green untill they be retired
into their holes, and hidden within the ground."
The ancient opinion respecting the rooted antipathy between the ash and the
serpent is not to be explained merely by the fact in natural history of its
being an antidote, but it has a deeply mythical meaning. See, in the _Prose
Edda_, the account of the ash Yggdrasill, and the serpents gnawing its
roots. Loskiel corroborates Pliny as to the ash being an antidote:
"A decoction of the buds or bark of the white ash (_Fraxinus carolina_)
taken inwardly is said to be a certain remedy against the effects of
poison," _i.e._ of the rattlesnake.
Serpents afford Pliny a theme for inexhaustible wonders. The strangest of
his relations perhaps is where he tells us that serpents, "when they have
stung or bitten a man, die for very greefe and sorrow that they have done
such a mischeefe." He makes a special exception, however, of the murderous
salamander, who has no such "pricke and remorse of conscience," but would
"destroy whole nations at one time," if not prevented. In this same book
(xxix.) he gives a receipt for making the famous _theriacum_, or treacle,
of vipers' flesh. Another strange notion of the ancients was "that the
marrow of a man's backe bone will breed to a snake" (_Hist. Nat._, x. 66.).
This perhaps, originally, had a mystic meaning; for a great proportion of
the innumerable serpent stories have a deeper foundation than a credulous
fancy or lively imagination.
Take, for instance, the wide-spread legend of the sea-serpent. Mr. Deane
says,--
"The superstition of 'the serpent in the sea' was known to the Chinese,
as we observed in the chapter on the 'Serpent-worship of China.' But it
was doubtless, at one time, a very general superstition among the
heathens, for we find it mentioned by Isaiah, ch. xxvii. 1., 'In that
day the Lord, with his sore and great and strong sword, shall punish
Leviathan the piercing serpent, even Leviathan that crooked serpent:
and He shall slay _the dragon that is in the sea_.'"
In _Blackwood's Magazine_, vol. ii. p. 645., vol. iv. pp. 33. 205., may be
found some interesting papers on the "Scrakin, or Great Sea Serpent."
Mr. Deane's _Worship of the Serpent_ (London, 1830); and _The Cross and the
Serpent_, by the Rev. Wm. Haslam (London, 1849), are noble works both of
them, and ought to be in the hands of every Christian scholar. In these two
words, "Cross" and "Serpent," we have an epitome of the history of the
world and the human race, as well as the ground-work for all our hopes and
fears. In them are bound up the highest mysteries, the truest symbolism,
the deepest realities, and our nearest and dearest interests.
Lord Bacon thus narrates the classical fable which accounts for the
serpent's being gifted with the power of restoring youth:
"The gods, in a merry mood, granted unto men not only the use of fire,
but _perpetual youth_ also, a boon most acceptable and desirable. They
being as it were overjoyed, did foolishly lay this gift of the gods
upon the back of an ass, who, being wonderfully oppressed with thirst
and near a fountain, was told by a serpent (which had the custody
thereof) that he should not drink unless he would promise to give him
the burthen that was on his back. The silly ass accepted the condition,
and _so the restoration of youth_ (_sold for a draught of water_)
_passed from men to serpents._"--_The Wisdom of the Ancients_
(Prometheus, xxvi.).
That this, as well as the whole of the legend relating to Prometheus, is a
confused account of an early tradition relative to the Fall of Man, and his
forfeiture of immortality, is obvious to any {41} unprejudiced mind. Lord
Bacon's explanation shows that he has been overreached by his fancy and
ingenuity.
In all the ancient mysteries, the serpent was more or less conspicuously
introduced, and always as a symbol of the invigorating or active power of
nature. The serpent was an emblem of the sun. _Solar_, _Phallic_, and
_Serpent_ worship, are all forms of a single worship.[8] The Hindu _Boodh_,
Chinese _Fo_, Egyptian _Osiris_, Northern _Woden_, Mexican _Quetzalcoatl_
(feathered serpent), are one and the same. (See the _American
Archaeological Researches_, No. 1.; _The Serpent Symbol, and the Worship of
the Reciprocal Principles of Nature in America_, by E. G. Squier: New York,
1851.)
In Hindostan, to this day, we have the _Chaudravanasas_ and the
_Snaryavanasas_, worshippers of the moon, the aqueous or female; and of the
sun, the igneous or male principle. The _Saivas_ conjoin the two. Clemens
Alexandrinus has a curious remark, referring to the calling on _Evoe_ or
_Eva_ in the orgies of Bacchus; he says:
"The symbol in the orgies of Bacchus is a consecrated _serpent_; and,
indeed, if we pay attention to the strict sense of the Hebrew, the name
_Evia_, aspirated, signifies _female serpent_."
In my list of saints who are represented with a dragon or serpent beneath
their feet, I omitted St. Hilary:
"He is usually represented with three books. In Callot's _Images_ he is
treading on serpents, and accompanied by the text Numb. xxi. 7. Both
these emblems allude to his opposition to Arianism; the books
signifying the treatises he wrote against it, and the serpents the
false doctrines and heresies which he overthrew." _Calendar of the
Anglican Church Illustrated_: London, 1851, p. 37.
In Didron's splendid work (the _Iconographie_) we have several references
to ancient representations of our blessed Lord treading the dragon under
foot; and sometimes the lion, the asp, and the basilisk are added. (See Ps.
xci. 13.)
_The Conception_ is usually represented in Christian art by a figure of
Mary setting her foot, as second Eve, on the head of the prostrate serpent
(in allusion to Gen. iii. 15.), and thus we find it in Callot's _Images_.
"Not seldom, in a series of subjects from the Old Testament, the
pendant to Eve holding the apple is Mary crushing the head of the
fiend: and thus the bane and antidote are both before us." (See Mrs.
Jameson's _Legends of the Madonna._)