Here be Dragons

Today is 23 April, the traditionally accepted date of St George’s death (in AD 303). To celebrate St George’s Day, Charlie Morgan continues our theme of mythical beasts as he takes a look at St George’s legendary adversary: the mighty dragon.

Saint George. Line engraving, 1851.

You’d be forgiven for forgetting that today is St George’s Day. Without the festivities of, say, St Patrick’s Day, for years St George’s Day’s saving grace was being the time of the year when we’d be reminded of dragons. The fourth season of Game of Thrones began recently and patron saints tend to not do well up against HBO blockbusters; however, until Daenerys gets her own feast day I suppose we’re stuck with St George. Which makes this as good a time as any to explore what dragons actually are.

As with unicorns, most of us are familiar with dragons from literature, art and films. From Falkor the luckdragon in The Neverending Story and Haku in Spirited Away, to Maleficent’s dragon form and Draco in Dragonheart. From dragons in the Harry Potter series and Reign of Fire, to Mushu in Mulan and Lockheed in X-Men. Not forgetting, of course, Smaug the Magnificent in the Hobbit and many more. But where did myths of these legendary creatures come from?

The woman clothed with the sun is attacked by a seven-headed dragon (representing the 12th Book of Revelation).

The legend of St George and the dragon stems from the latter serving as a symbol of the Christian devil. This might come from an adapted form of the snake in the Garden of Eden but it’s most memorable in the Book of Revelations, where Satan is embodied as ‘a great red dragon, having seven heads and ten horns, and seven crowns upon his heads’. The beast wages war with Archangel Michael before being thrown down to earth where he is worshipped as a false God. Eventually an angel descends from heaven and casts the dragon into a bottomless pit.

Satan as a dragon thrown into hell, circa 1420-30.

Flash forward and it’s no surprise that the story became so reified during the Crusades. But if dragons in Europe inspired fear, further east they did the exact opposite.

Illustration in a Thai manuscript of a male devata (i.e. lesser deity) riding a large dragon.

If you visit the Forbidden City in Beijing you might spot the ornately decorated Nine Dragon Wall that stands within. If you make a trip to our Medicine Man gallery when it re-opens you might catch sight of an ominous looking chair upon which dragon heads protrude from the arms. You might have been born in the Year of the Dragon or you might have watched a costumed dragon snake through Chinatown during New Year’s; either way it is clear that dragons play an important role in Chinese culture.

Chinese dragons long symbolised luck or power but have tended to fly and breathe fire far less than their European counterparts. Instead, they regularly swam through water, controlled the weather and for years gave legitimacy to Imperial families: specifically, the five-clawed dragon motif confirmed the Emperor as the Son of Heaven and provided his consorts with similar authority. In countries that border China dragons also command respect. In Bhutan the national icon is the ‘Druk’ (Thunder Dragon) and the state ruler is the Dragon King. Say what you want about monarchies but that’s a pretty cool name.

Late 19th century Chinese imperial letter from the governor of Chiang-su (Kiangsu) Province, The letter is enclosed with yellow silk end papers depicting the five-clawed dragon motif.

When it comes to their blood, dragons again divide opinion. According to some myths, bathing in dragon blood would imbue the bather with invincible skin; in others, it’s acidic or simply deadly to the touch. Back in Europe, the last dragon was supposedly slain in 1572 when one was taken down by a farmer hitting it on the head with a walking stick. Still, in a 1670s recipe by Lady Ann Fanshawe that produced a ‘red powder good for miscarrying’, the first ingredient she listed was ‘of Dragon’s blood one dram’. Was she referring to plant resin or, as certain encyclopedias of the time suggested, the real blood of a dragon? We can only guess as to which side of the fence Lady Fanshawe was on but, since then, the medical has certainly won out over the mythological.

Lady Ann Fanshawe’s recipe.

Today we are most familiar with dragons such as those which mark the boundaries of the City of London or the one that is emblazoned on the flag of Wales. Interestingly the latter has not been a historical constant and, with a nod to Muriel Bailly’s recent blog post, during the reign of the Stuarts it was jettisoned in favour of a unicorn. Aside from flags, and outside the world of cryptozoology, dragons nowadays exist mostly in the realms of science fiction and fantasy.

In the real world we have to settle for Komodo dragons and Draco lizards. Incidentally, other inspirations for dragon mythology may have come from a variety of places, as discussed by the Smithsonian and Live Science. Yet a 2004 piece of docu-fiction, called The Last Dragon, began by noting the amount of cultures that, despite having no contact with each other, all developed mythologies of dragons. From this it posited a fictional evolutionary process of the dragon before its eventual defeat to man. The film is of course fiction, but centuries on from both St George and the Chinese Emperors it’s still nice to dream.

Charlie Morgan is a Visitor Experience Assistant at Wellcome Collection.

The Power of Unicorns

From 1908 to 1995 the pharmaceutical company created by Henry Wellcome and Silas Burroughs in 1880 (Burroughs Wellcome/ Wellcome Foundation) had a unicorn as its logo. Muriel Bailly tells us the story behind this mystical animal and explains the unlikely connection between pharmaceuticals and unicorns.

Two Burroughs Wellcome/Wellcome Foundation logo designs from 1908 to 1995.

I am entirely objective when I say that Wellcome Collection is an incredible place to learn about the history of medicine. I am regularly amazed by the stories I discover behind the objects from our collections. For today’s article, however, I was not inspired by the collection, but by our visitors. If you have ever visited the Medicine Now gallery you have probably noticed that an entire wall is dedicated to drawing “feedback” cards made by our visitors. On the back of each card is a list of words related to Wellcome Collection for people to take inspiration from. Amongst them is the word “unicorn”: it is one of the most popular on the cards. I wondered how unicorns could be linked to the collection or the Wellcome Trust when I first started working here. After looking a little more closely, it turned out to be pretty obvious.

Two of the cards drawn by our visitors and added to the feedback wall in Medicine Now.

I am sure we’re all familiar with unicorns from fairy tales, cartoons, films and heraldry: from the books The Little White Horse, Harry Potter and The Flight of the Horse, to the cartoons My Little Pony, Dungeons and Dragons and Thundercats to the films The Last Unicorn, Legend, Blade Runner and The Chronicles of Narnia. There’s even a very addictive game. Unicorns have often featured in literature and art for centuries but they were first mentioned in antiquity in ancient Greek writings. However, it wasn’t mythology writings as one might expect, but in natural history books; the ancient Greeks were convinced by the authenticity of the creature.

The earliest known mention of unicorns is by Ctesias, a Greek physician from the 5th century BC, who placed their origin in India. Ctesias spent time at the court of Darius in Persia (what is now Iran) where he heard many stories from Indian travellers about a mystical animal. Described as a creature with a white horse-like body, dark blue eyes and a single, colourful horn on the forehead about 43 centimetres long (1’6”). An animal so powerful and fleet of foot that no other could overtake it.

A fight among animals: a unicorn is fighting a griffon and a lion is killing a fox while other animals are fleeing or watching on.

It was believed the animal’s strength resided in its horn which is why, Ctesias tells us, it was common for the people at that time to grind unicorns’ horns to prepare elixirs and remedies. A tradition paralleled by what is currently happening in Africa and Asia where rhinos are poached for their horns, which some people believe to have medicinal properties (as illustrated in the work of Brent Stirton, runner up 2012 for the Wildlife photojournalist Award at the Natural History Museum).

Unicorns are also mentioned in the works of Strabo and Pliny the Younger. In the Bible, an animal called Re’em in the Hebrew version is often mentioned for its strength and has been translated to “unicorn” in the King James Version.

The popularity of unicorns in religious and natural history literature was such that, by the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, unicorns were a symbol of purity and chastity and they were very common in paintings, engravings and tapestries often represented by a white unicorn resting its head on a young virgin’s lap. 

Chastity (a virgin and a unicorn) oil painting.

As a result of being a symbol of purity, unicorns, specifically their horns, were believed to possess the power to heal a large variety of diseases; drinking from a unicorn’s horn would allegedly purify filthy water. For these reasons, unicorns’ horns were one of the most valuable things a king could possess throughout the Middle Ages and into the Renaissance.

This raises a question: what were kings and physicians using in place of unicorns’ horns? In most cases narwhals‘ horns were passed off as unicorns’. As was the case with Goa stones, it was common in ancient times to “adjust” remedies for the greater good. The most important thing was to believe that you were being administered the real thing, what we would call the placebo effect in modern medicine.

This tusk (a canine tooth) is from a small whale called a narwhal. For centuries such tusks, which could grow several metres in length, were claimed to be from the unicorn. As powdered ‘unicorn horn’ was used in a number of different medical preparations these tusks became highly valued and the whales heavily hunted.

A few years ago a “unicorn” or, more precisely, a single-horned deer was born in a wildlife reserve in Italy. This re-launched the debate around the authenticity of unicorns. Is it possible that such genetic modifications were witnessed in antiquity, providing an explanation for the myth? Or was there really a time when creatures such as unicorns (and even mermaids and dragons) existed?

Muriel is a Visitor Experience Assistant at Wellcome Collection.

Foolish Remedies: Goa stone

A few months ago, we asked for your best tips for curing a cold on Twitter. The answers were brilliantly illustrated by our very own Rob Bidder as part of our Curious Conversations. April Fools’ Day kicked off our Foolish Remedies series as Muriel Bailly explores other unusual cures for illnesses inspired by Henry Wellcome’s collection.

Throughout human history, poisoning has been a method of murder, suicide and execution. The long list of people who met their end at the hands of poison includes the Greek philosopher Socrates, the Queen of Egypt Cleopatra and a variety of Roman emperors. Even today, poisoning remains a threat for royalty, political figures and military leaders.

Oval Goa stone, 1601-1800.

Goa stones, such as the one usually on display in our Medicine Man gallery, were for centuries considered the only cure for poisoning. Goa stones are named after their place of origin, Goa in India. They are the artificially manufactured versions of bezoar stones: a mixture of gallstones and hairs found in the stomach of deer, sheep and antelopes. Many of us may first have heard of bezoars from Professor Snape lecturing in Harry Potter’s first year Potions class:

“A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons.“

The original bezoars did indeed come from the stomach of goats found in the mountains of Western Persia and were introduced to Europe from the Middle East sometime during the 11th century. They remained popular there as medicinal remedies until the 18th century. The term bezoar comes from either the Persian “pahnzehr” or the Arabic “badzehr,” both of which mean “counter-poison” or antidote.

Supplies were limited, however, so in the 17th century a group of Jesuit monks in the Portuguese colony of Goa began producing man-made bezoars from a paste which included exotic ingredients such as narwhal tusk, amethyst, ruby, emerald, coral and pearl. The method of administration consisted of scraping a little bit of the surface of the bezoar or Goa stone into water or wine and drinking the mixture. The monks truly believed that the manufactured bezoars would have the same properties as the real ones and, therefore, save lives.

At a time prior to modern science and medicine most people had absolute faith in the medicinal properties of the stones. Wealthy clients were prepared to spend huge amounts of money for the remedy purported to cure almost everything from poisoning to plague and depression. England started importing Goa stones in the late 17th and early 18th centuries for a very high price.

The exquisitely carved case for an artificially manufactured Goa stone.

On top of their (literally) incredible medical properties, Goa stones were also very beautiful and refined objects. Containers for the stone were often made of stone and exquisitely decorated with Mughal trellis designs including creatures such as unicorns, griffins, dromedaries, monkeys, stags and lions with human heads. They soon became a status symbol as well as, or maybe rather than, a medicine.

Muriel is a Visitor Experience Assistant at Wellcome Collection.

Intriguing insights

Unicorn horn or narwhal tusk? Wellcome Images

How does an academic library with a huge and diverse collection, sitting within a public venue, share its treasures with visitors? Eleanor Lanyon thinks magic might be the answer.

This has been a challenge that the Wellcome Library has tackled in a number of ways. Most visible to anyone accessing Wellcome Collection in person or online are the Library’s ‘Insights’ sessions. Obviously, an invitation to visit an academic library might be of limited appeal so we’ve tried instead to draw out some of the themes – both expected and unexpected – that run through our collections. You may not be interested in libraries per se, but you might well enjoy the chance to explore herbal medicine, history, art, travel, science, or quackery.

As Library Outreach Officer and charged with managing this programme of show-and-tell sessions I felt I should lead by example. And so ‘Magic Manuscripts’ was born; everything I could possibly and tangentially link to Harry Potter. In fact once I got going, there was a considerable overlap between our collections and the curriculum at Hogwarts – herbology, potions, charms, astrology, alchemy – even study of magical beasts.

Between me and a successful session were the challenges of the Library catalogue, a plethora of secondary sources and original material in Latin, French, and German. Not to mention, how to fit a full sized unicorn’s horn into my display of original material….

I’m pleased to report that I survived the delivery of ‘Magic Manuscripts’, although I was slightly disappointed when everyone correctly identified my ‘unicorn horn’ as a narwhal tusk. Visitors were intrigued by alchemical manuscripts, appalled by the interrogation techniques of witch-hunters in 17th century Europe and suitably disgusted by recipes for remedies involving horse dung and other dubious ingredients.

The range of ‘Insights’ sessions on offer has increased dramatically since we started, and we’re now experimenting with evening sessions as well as our afternoon slots. We hope to see you at one of our sessions in the future.

Upcoming ‘Insights’ sessions:

Facing Up to the Past on Thursday 1 April
Native Americans on Thursday 8 April
Caricatures and Cartoons on Thursday 22 April
Anatomies of London on Thursday 29 April
Fascinating Faces on Thursday 6 May
The Occult on Thursday 13 May
Madness on Thursday 20 May

There’s no need to book:  you can pick up your free ticket for this event from the Information Desk from 13.30 on the day.

Eleanor Lanyon is Library Outreach Officer, and part of the Wellcome Collection Events team.