Gaul with the Caul: The Birth and Death Medicine of Telesphoros

SARAH JANES
themysteries.org | 22sarahjanes22@gmail.com

Telesphoros is the hooded child-god of the Asklepion. Pausanius calls him — ‘the accomplisher’. He is ‘the fullfiller’, ‘the perfecter’. In ancient Greek his name suggests an initiation of sorts, he is a kind of pint-sized hierophant of ‘the cure’.

But who is Telesphoros really? Where did he come from, what does he really represent, is he a Gaulish dwarf? A kind of Celtic Bes? A protective daimon of childbirth and children? Is his image an example of apotropaic magic? Is he a changeling, a genie, a pixie? Might he even represent a blessed baby, born wearing the ‘lucky cape’?

A few days ago in a hypnagogic reverie, Telesphoros appeared to me quite powerfully — he compelled me to get to know him properly. He said to start by “really knowing my name” — this bit reminded me of Rumpelstiltskin — and I intuited that one way to discover him might be through fairytales, folklore and myth.

The next day I received an email from someone who had just found me online and was intrigued by my research into ancient Greek dreams. Rather perfectly, they said they were especially curious about Telesphoros and sent me a photograph of a little Telesphoros-type statue they had discovered in a local museum in France — I took this as another cue.

The Beginnings of Telesphoros
Telesphoros’s familiar hooded, cloaked, child or dwarf-sized form seems to originate with the Celts. From Switzerland, Germany, and eastern France, the Celts raided and migrated through a vast area of Greece in the 3rd century BC. The Galatians in Anatolia were descended from these Celts. In Anatolia the little Celtic figure in a bardocucullus (a Gallic overcoat), who had migrated with these groups, blended with the local mythological landscape, as well as the already established divine healing family of Asklepios at the great Asklepion of Pergamon. It is here he seems to have become known as Telesphoros for the first time. The earliest dedication to Telesphorus that has been found, is dated to 98–99 AD and was discovered at Pergamon.

The tragic hero Telephus (in ancient sources he is so-called because he was suckled by a hind ‘elaphos’, but his name can also be read as ‘far-shining’) was considered to be the mythical founder of Pergamon. Telephus was the son of the hero Herakles and Auge. Auge was the daughter of Aleus, King of Tegea, and a priestess of Athena. Myth tells us that drunken Herakles raped Auge during a festival of the goddess. When Aleus discovered that Auge had given birth to Telephus, he had mother and child shut up in a wooden chest and cast adrift on the open sea — he had been told by the Delphic oracle that his grandchild would grow up to murder him. The bobbing casket survived the seas, reminding us of the treatment of Perseus and Danaë, and arrived in Mysia. In Mysia, the local king married Auge and adopted Telephus, who became his successor.

Some intriguing lines recorded in the Byzantine poet Tzetzes work on the Greek tragic poet Lycophronem —
‘“And he will mix with them”; they say that Odysseus met Aineias in Italy and they made agreements and peace with each other. So he says that being different, he will mix a friendly army with him through the treaties, persuading with oaths and supplications as if he were a fugitive. They say the wanderers are dwarfs. The two sons of Telephos, Tarchon and Tyrsenos, who will inhabit Tyrrhenia, mixed their army with him.’

Tarchon and Tyrsenos were heroes and founders of the Etruscan Dodecapolis (12 cities) in Italy. The Etruscans are known to have had a profound impact on the development of Celtic art and culture. Asklepios himself was syncretised with the Etruscan/Roman god Vejovis — a sort of anti-Jove. Like Asklepios, Vejovis was a god of healing associated with the thunder and lightening of the underworld, and sulphuric springs — he provided an underworld mirror to the overworld realm of Jove.

The Pergamon Asklepion was established in the 4th century BC (although a much older healing cult existed around the Sacred Well before). It was one of the most famous of the hundreds of Asklepia that existed in the ancient Greek-speaking world. The centre was especially flourishing in the 2nd century BC during Roman times.

The Asklepions were the supreme healing establishments of the day and the child/dwarf — god Telesphoros became a key figure in many of them, many hundreds of years after the cult of Asklepios originally began. Telesphoros was often represented alongside Asklepios and Hygieia. Some call him Asklepios’s son, but he has always seemed more like a daimon, genie or even totem figure to me.

The Wanderer
Telesphoros is an intriguing, often overlooked Asklepion character. I always supposed him to be a personification of ‘the cure’. Teles-phoros: from Telos (fulfilment) phoros (bearer of). His foreignness and late entry is particularly evident as an addition to the triad of Apollo, Asklepios, Hygieia at somewhere like Epidavros. At Epidavros, (which contends with Trikkala in northwestern Thessaly as birthplace of the god and first Asklepion) the healing trinity, were conflated with Osiris, Horus and Isis in later times. Here, Telesphoros seems to have had a talismanic function in this context. He seems a bit like the Egyptian Bes, who was often depicted, gorgon-head-like above healing images of the divine child Horus or the Greco-Egyptian Harpokrates. This might also explain the ithyphallic Telesphoros oil lamps that were sometimes used to protect sick or sleeping babies and children. In ancient Egyptian apotropaic images Bes is also depicted with a massive phallus and is sometimes armed with knives to protect sleeping infants. Some of the hooded figures of the Telesphoros-type are similarly armed.

At the Pergamon Asklepion complex, pilgrims actually sought their curative divine dream in the Telesphoreion — a sacred precinct and healing complex dedicated to the hooded child god. This space seems to have functioned as a dormitory for initiatory curative dreams and it also suggests that the ‘divine dream’ was considered the fulfilment and final stage of the the Asklepion cure.

In reliefs and statues Telesphoros, Hygieia and sometimes Asklepios, are occasionally shown holding an egg. The ancient Greek word telesphoreo means to bring to a head, to maturity, and is used to refer to fruit ripening to perfection, a pregnant woman bringing her perfect baby full term, hens brooding, and animals rearing their young. In this way Telesphorus presides over the incubation process. In his cloaked and well-covered form he could also be perceived as representing visually something of the germinating seed, the perfect burgeoning potential of a mature human. Fullness, enclosed by a protective cloak.

According to Pausanius, Telesphoros’s statue was also known as Acesis ‘healing/curing’ at Epidavros — and Euamerion ‘prosperous, good-day’ at Titane (Corinthia). The idea of these statues being healing charms, miracle-making totems, reminds me again of the Horus Cippi — the beautiful healing stelae of Egypt, upon which inscribed spells, the magical words of Isis and healing images of Horus subjugating wild creatures, protected the afflicted against bites, stings, poisons and other wounds (especially those inflicted by wild beasts). Liquids poured over the images and texts of a Horus Cippus were understood to be imprinted with the shapes and forms of the protective spell. This spell fluid could be used in healing rituals. It might be imbibed or applied to the skin of a patient. The liquid used might be water from a mineral-rich sacred spring, oil or milk.

A Shining Light
The opening of a hymn dedicated to the healing child-god at Athens calls Telesphorus ‘blessed one, light-giver, giver of necessities, image of Paean (Paean is an old name and epithet for Apollo), illustrious and expert’, while at Pergamum he has the epithets ζωοφόρος, ‘life-bearing/giving’ and φαεσίνβροτος, ‘shining on mortals’ — perhaps bringing him into accord with Pergamon’s legendary founder Telephus.

These illuminating epithets might relate to Telephoros’s protective, guiding role in the process of incubation. He might bring light to the practice of enkoimesis — the sacred sleep in which Asklepios came to visit mortals in his sacred precincts, but his light may also represent the cessation of the darkness of disease.

Telesphoros is the light at the end of the tunnel.

The beautifully preserved vaulted tunnel at the Pergamon Asklepion— the 70 metre long ‘kryptoporiktus’, connects the open courtyard of the main sanctuary, its theatre, temples, baths and hostel, to the two-storey, circular treatment complex that was dedicated to Telesphoros - the Telesphoreion. Telesphoros then, is the light at the end of the pilgrim’s dark healing journey. There are descriptions of temple attendants ritualistically revealing light to the patients, to signify that they are now cured, having been ‘perfected’ in the incubatory darkness that is required for proper convalescence.

Telesphorus also visited Aelius Aristides in a dream in his Sacred Tales. Here Aristides describes the god dancing about his neck and simultaneously a light, as if from the sun, is seen shining on the opposite wall. Reliefs and votives often depict Telesphoros alongside Asklepios at the sickbed. Damascius (known as the last of the Athenian Neoplatonists) says that,
“…though inferior to his father, Telesphorus supplies a missing element in the Paeonian ‘wholeness’ of Asklepios. He ‘perfects’ the one who invokes him properly.”

Rebirthing to Wellness and Dying to Disease
Beyond the Asklepion, Telesphoros is recognised particularly as a protector of children. He was invoked to aid speedy, easy delivery and protect children along their journey to adulthood. He is also known to have accompanied children to the grave. A number of statuettes showing Telephoros holding the hand of an infant have been found in the graves of children. Here we might consider him to be a guardian of the child, guiding their spirit into and through the darkness of Hades — perhaps even towards a more perfect rebirth. This role of protecting someone on their way through life, brings the figure of Telesphoros back to its ancient Celtic roots.

The Mothers and the Genii Cucullati
In Romano-Celtic religion, the Telesphoros-like genii cucullati, were viewed as supernatural assistants to a variety of deities at curative sanctuaries and holy springs in Gaul and Germany. Here they were often known as the ‘hooded spirits’ and they seem to represent local nature spirits, genii locorum. In Britain, these curious entities are often seen in triple-form, alongside a tripled Mother goddess. Offerings of these figures discovered in sacred pools and springs suggest these figures had an association with healing and regenerative chthonic powers. They are often shown holding eggs, fruit and money bags, and they sometimes have erections — reiterating the role of Telesphoros as a being who brings about fruition and perfection.

The Lucky Cape
Really the defining feature of Telesphoros is his hooded cape. It sets him apart and illustrates his foreignness within the rest of the family of Asklepios. The usually rather snug cape and hood seem to be of the utmost significance.

I decided to incubate on the importance of Telesphoros’s hooded cape and had a strange and rather sudden inspiration to research the folklore of caulbearers.

In a caul birth, a baby is born with part of the amniotic sac or membrane covering their head, face or body, giving the appearance of a veil. In Latin the caul was known by many names including a helmet or helm, and babies might be described as born ‘helmeted’. In Iceland, it was known as a lucky coat or cape. A caul birth is not as rare as an ‘en caul’ birth. In an en caul birth, the baby stays completely enclosed by the unopened amniotic sac.

Amniomancy was the practice of divination by inspection of the caul. If the caul was red and stuck to the baby’s crown it was considered a most excellent omen — the child being perceived as already crowned by the gods, predestined to be a great warrior or beauty, to marry into royalty, to have an illustrious career. If the caul was black however, it should be broken and given in drink to ward off evil spirits. Baby’s caul is recorded as being used in numerous love potion recipes, as a talisman to induce persuasive speech and eloquence, as a remedy for malaria, and as a charm to save a failing rice crop. In Dalmatia (Croatia), the caul was placed under the owner’s head when he lay on his death bed, to ensure his passing would be easy.

In ancient Greece, as well as pretty much everywhere else in the world, to be born ‘with a caul’, was considered extremely auspicious, it conferred psychic powers, second sight, fantastic luck in love and personal vitality. The caul itself — which was often preserved by the mother or midwife, was considered an excellent talisman that would protect the caulbearer throughout their life.

Perseus is said to have been born with a caul, and the war-fuelling beauty of Helen of Troy might be down to the fact that she was born with a caul too. A baby’s caul had to be preserved or disposed of carefully after birth. There was a widespread belief that within the caul resided the guardian spirit or ‘life token’ of the child. In Iceland the caul was buried by the midwife, under the threshold over which the mother would later pass. It is suggested that this was so the spirit of the child, if lost, would know where to return to — to be born once again to its rightful mother.

An interesting widespread folk tradition that developed around the caul is its use as a talisman to protect the bearer from drowning. I wonder if this relates to the story of born-with-a-caul Perseus surviving the high seas with his mother Danaë after they were locked in a chest and thrown into the sea by Acrisius. This motif, as you will remember, features in the story of Telephus, and it is also a feature of a fairytale collected and published by the Brothers Grimm called The Devil with the Three Golden Hairs. In this story, the ‘child of good fortune’ who was also ‘born with a caul’, after surviving the attempted drowning of his childhood, successfully enters hell and returns with the treasure and wisdom necessary to earn the hand of a greedy king’s lovely daughter. Famously Charles Dickens writes about this superstition in David Copperfield —who is born with a caul. His mother auctions it off to superstitious locals — who believe the caul will magically protect them from drowning.

Night Battles and the Good Walkers
In Northeastern Italy, in the 16th and 17th centuries, members of a fascinating agrarian cult called the benandanti ‘good walkers’ were said to have been born with a caul. The caul was believed to give them the ability to take part in visionary night battles with evil witches that threatened their community’s harvest on certain days of the year. During these nocturnal journeys, they said that their spirits left their sleeping bodies and either transformed into that of an animal, or rode upon an animal’s back. They then flew to the sky to meet with the goddess Diana and then on to the fields where their crops were growing. Here they would meet up with other benandanti and take part in feasts, games and battle the malevolent witches. The benandanti used fennel stalks and the evil witches used sticks of sorghum in the great battle. When they were not taking part in these visionary quests, the benandanti (as caulbearers) were also believed to have powers of second sight, healing and the ability to communicate with the dead. They were investigated as witches during the inquisition, and for a while these fertility rites were Christianized, participants claiming that they were servants of the Christian God. Cauls were placed on altars and masses conducted over them to increase their power. It was said the benandanti carried their preserved cauls into battle. Later, the church reversed the auspicious nature of caul births — and they became an ill-omen, the sign of witch or vampire. As punishment for caul protection during a birth, a mother might reasonably expect their baby to turn into a werewolf or night hag.

Might we consider Telesphoros’s Gallic cloak to represent a stylised caul, the lucky cape. He is the child of good fortune, offering his protection to those who follow him — from birth, all through the dream of life and into the realms of death. Caulbearers are considered to be divinely protected wanderers, and Telesphoros is always on the way.

Telesphoros: The Perfector | Dream Incubation Ritual 14th September live on Zoom