One of Mercury’s or Hermes’ most iconic possessions is His wand or “herald’s staff,” a symbol which remains ubiquitous today but whose design and meaning has changed in major ways since ancient times. This article aims to breakdown its original attributes, history, and symbolism that are largely forgotten today.
Properly known as a κηρύκειον (kerykeion, from Greek κῆρυξ ‘herald’), which was adapted as caduceus in Latin, the staff was not unique to Hermes. It existed as an actual physical object carried by heralds to prove their authenticity and authority to deliver messages for those in power 2 — and by extension to assure their protection while traveling sometimes hostile territory to do so.
The caduceus was also a priestly instrument. Multiple Roman frescoes (see below) show priests of Isis wielding it as the Goddess greets Io. Men known as caduceators also wielded it as part of their role in brokering peace negotiations, according to Servius, who compared them to the fetial priests responsible for war (see section “Caduceus as a Peace Sign”).
Besides priests, a number of Goddesses also carry the caduceus, such as Iris (a winged angel of Hera and the Olympians), Felicitas, and Pax. Nike or Victoria have also sometimes been said to carry it, though I cannot find an example that positively identifies Them over Iris or Pax. Additional figures in art who carry kerykeia include mortal heralds such as Talthybios (from the Trojan War).
Hermes’ association with the kerykeion is nearly absolute in visual art even from the earliest times, but the literary or mythological sources painted a murkier picture. Hermes was not initially said to have a herald’s staff, per se, and His staff, or wand, was ascribed a number of other properties.
The Iliad 1 and Odyssey 3 tell us Hermes has a golden wand (ῥάβδος, rhabdos) with the power to both lull and raise mortals from sleep, and with which He leads shades to the Underworld.
The Homeric Hymns4 recount that Apollo gave Hermes a golden wand (ῥάβδος, χρυσόρραπις, rhábdos, chrysórrhapis) in exchange for Hermes’ vow to not steal from Him again. This wand is said to have three branches (τριπέτηλος, tripételos), to keep its bearer unscathed, and to help accomplish any task that is Good. Apollodorus5 alternatively relates that Hermes traded His panpipes for the wand, and that Apollo had used this wand for herding cattle.
It’s not until around seven centuries later that we find literary myths more clearly describing the caduceus depicted in art, and explaining its invention6 — i.e., that Mercury used a “small rod” (virgula, rhabdos) to intervene in a fight between two snakes which then intertwined in union around it.
[The caduceus] shows a pair of serpents, male and female, intertwined; the middle parts of the serpents’ coils are joined together as in a knot, called the knot of Hercules; their upper parts are bent into a circle and complete the circle as they meet in a kiss; below the knot their tails rejoin the staff at the point at which it is held, and at that point appear the wings with which they are provided.
— Macrobius 7
Macrobius provides us with a succinct explanation of the canonical caduceus’ design that could hardly be improved upon, to which I would only note some stylistic variations in how it was rendered in works of art:
The caduceus is ubiquitous even in modern times, albeit with a transformed design that has minimal resemblance to the caducei of antiquity. Probably the only modern context where we find the original caduceus preserved would be in a very abstract form for the astrological and alchemical signs of Mercury:
Instead, the modern caduceus has basically been inverted, with enlarged wings perched on top and the two snakes coiling loosely around the rod below in a double-helix, usually tapering as they go down:
While I’ve yet to find an explanation for why this transformation took place, it provides a useful diagnostic for identifying whether an artifact is actually ancient or not (sometimes Renaissance and Modern bronzes of Mercury get mistaken as Roman). Occasionally, genuinely ancient statues are displayed in museums with the modern caduceus, but those are the result of latter-day (usually Renaissance to 17th century) “restorations.”
The modern design of the caduceus stems from Renaissance art, where the double helix snakes were firmly established from the beginning, albeit often without wings. There seem to be few depictions of Mercury in the preceding Medieval era, but the few that I’ve found seem to supply Him with a plain rod, or mace. Both instances could reflect artists producing designs based solely on Classical literary sources available to them, almost all of which did not elaborate on the visual details of the conventional caduceus.
However, there are one or two artifacts from Late Antiquity that might point to a much older visual history for the “double-helix” design:
The first is a Corinthian capital from Auxerre, France. It once had three Gods and a Goddess on its four faces, but now only Mercury remains. It bears the overall appearance of an ancient Roman capital, albeit with a couple details that call its periodization into question. The first is obviously the double-helix caduceus, for which we have no other examples of in Roman Gaul. The second is the hairstyle: Roman Gaulish sculptures of Mercury with enough size and detail always show Him with very curly hair, usually rendered with spherical curls. The combed-straight hair on this piece makes it incredibly suspicious, to me.
Mercury’s overall style here looks reminiscent of one of Raphael’s depictions (e.g., from his “Loggia of Psyche”). And there are possibilities for why even a Renaissance artifact could wind up so fragmented (Huguenots destroyed Catholic buildings when they took over the city in 1567). But there is one other artifact of provable antiquity that leaves open the possibility that a sculpture with this style caduceus could be authentic:
A remarkable 4th century CE Spanish mosaic at Casariche shows the “double helix” type caduceus clear as day. The Casariche design is provably authentic, as it was discovered in 1986 and documented in situ by archaeologists. There are no signs that the Casariche site remained in use past the Roman period, so later alterations or repairs could not explain its design, either.
Interestingly, both works probably post-date the Christianization of their locales (the Casariche mosaic is 4th century, and Auxerre was evangelized rather early with bishops being sent there since 258 CE). So it would be interesting to consider whether Christianity had any influence on the redesign of the caduceus for one reason or another, although we may never discover how or why the change occurred.
The caduceus doesn’t reemerge in the surviving art record, as far as I could find, until over a thousand years after the Casariche mosaic, when we finally see it again in a 15th century manuscript (fig. 36), predictably with a double-helix design. The caduceus’ use in art grows very common thereafter.
Whose hand contains of blameless peace the rod, Corucian, blessed, profitable God;
— Orphic Hymn to Hermes 9
[Mercury] threw his staff down between the two [snakes] and, lo, they left off fighting; and so he said of the staff that it was appointed to make peace.
— Hyginus 8
While largely forgotten nowadays, the caduceus was widely understood in its time as a symbol for Peace. Authors often credit the caduceus’ power to end vitriol and fighting to its visual symbols, the circumstances of its creation, and of course the power of Mercury or Hermes. This is no doubt true, but there are no less interesting mundane reasons for why caducei probably became associated with Peace, as well.
Naturally, heralds were responsible for delivering the news of ceasefires and peace accords. As Servius explains, even the men in peace envoys who negotiated such agreements carried the caduceus. It makes sense that anyone who needed to prove their authority at the negotiating table would either carry the instrument, or be accompanied by someone who does. And as they would possibly have to travel through hostile territory to get there, the caduceus could help assure their protection. Much like noncombatants today who mark themselves with the Red Cross, or blue flak jackets emblazoned with “Press,” the caduceus would have played a part in protecting the bearer from attack — i.e., “don’t shoot the messenger.”
All of this naturally converges to make the caduceus a symbol of Peace, one that was minted on coins to advertise policies of reconciliation, or tout the Pax Romana where it is literally wielded by Pax Herself.
The serpents coiled round the [caduceus] … are a symbol of the fact that even savage men are charmed and bewitched by [Hermes], who loosens the conflicts between them and binds them with a knot which is difficult to untie. For this reason the caduceus appears to be a symbol of peace-making.
— Cornutus 10
This is the explanation of this wand: Mercury is called both god of speech and the spokesman of the gods; thus the rod separates the serpents i.e. poisons. For instance, warring peoples are pacified by the words of spokesmen. That is why, according to Livy, peace negotiators are called caduceators. That is to say, just as wars used to be declared by fetial priests, so peace was made by caduceators.
— Servius 11