Magic, or the science of magic, then served as a basis, as we have said
before, for mythology and legends and was noticeable in the dogmas of
all religions, for, as Saint Augustin observes, “In order to penetrate
the mystical senses of fictions and allegories, and the parables
contained in sacred history, it is necessary to be versed in the study
of occult science, of which numerals make part.”[51]
But from the Greek dæmon, or the _Sapiens_ of Plato, Christianity made
a demon, a fallen angel, who wished to people his empire with the
souls of the unbaptized; he is borrowed from the Jews with Beelzebub,
Asmodeus, Satan, and their numerous colleagues. After Jesus, who was
tempted by the Devil, and who delivered those possessed by devils, we
see the apostles and saints visited in turn by the angels of God and
also by spirits of evil, who fight battles among spiritual armies.
These are only visions, apparitions of angels or demons who are
vanquished before the anointed of the Lord.
Mankind wished to participate in the honors and emotions of
communicating with supernatural beings; it is for this purpose that
humanity addressed magicians and practitioners of Occultism. So we see
in the first ages of Christianity the Bishops were uneasy in regard to
magicians by reason of the popularity of the latter, notwithstanding
the peasantry had submitted to the dogmas of the Church.
Paul Lacroix, the learned bibliophile, cites as the most ancient
monument made mention of in this connection, an aggregation of shadowy
women collected for a mysterious purpose, who devoted themselves
to making magical incantations; this fragment is gathered from the
Canons of a Council which, he thinks, was held before the time of
Charlemagne. It treats of aerial flights that these sorcerers made,
or thought they made, in company with Diana and Herodias, _i.e._,
“_Illiud etiam non est omitendum quod quædam sceleratæ mulieres, retro
post Satanam conversæ, demonum illusionibus et phantasmatibus seductæ,
credunt et profitentur se nocturnis horis, cum Diana, dea paganorum,
vel cum Herodiate et innumera multitudine mulierum, equitare super
quasdam bestias, et multarum terrarum spacia intempestæ noctis silentio
pertransire ejusque jussionibus velut dominæ obedire, et certis
noctibus ad ejus servitium evocari_.”[52]
Which, being freely translated, reads: “We must not forget that
impious women devoted to Satan, were seduced by apparitions, demons
and phantoms, and avowed that during the night they rode on fantastic
beasts along with Diana, a Pagan goddess, or Herodias and an
innumberable throng of women. They pretended to traverse immense space
in the silence of the night, obeying the orders of the two demon-women
as those of a sovereign, being called into their service on certain
given occasions.”
We can understand from this that if Christianity silenced Pagan
oracles, it did not authorize magicians to put the spiritual world
aside. The clergy accepted the evidence of the witnesses of grace, but
refused that of the profane, who were only inspired by demons; they
recognized in the latter the power of giving men illusions of the
senses, of cohabiting with virgins under the form of _incubi_ and with
men under the form of _succubi_,—demons who could insinuate themselves
through natural orifices into all the cavities of the body, and possess
mortals.
Theologians have described all the pains endured by those
possessed,—pangs in their thoracic and abdominal organs which, made
by the demons, forced their victims to speak, sing, move, to be in a
condition of anæsthesia or hyperæsthesia, following the imp’s will;
in other words, the possessed were subject to infernal action. To
the worship of spirits the first Bishops of the Church substituted a
foolish fear of demons.
From this exaggeration of the power of evil genii over man surged the
silly terrors and superstitious fears of damnation, which were the
starting-point of aberration among the first demonomaniacs. It was for
these unfortunates that the clergy invented exorcisms and great annual
ceremonies destined to deliver those possessed by demons, ceremonies
at which the Bishops convened the people and the nobles to assist, in
order to show the triumphs of the Church over Satan and his imps.
The theatrical arrangement of these assemblages certainly induced
some apparent cures—making the faithful cry out “a miracle, truly;”
but who does not know that all affections of the nervous system love
to be treated at the hands of thaumaturgists? To invent demons to
have the glory of defeating them and to deliver mankind from their
influence,—such appears to have been the objective point of the
primitive Christian Church. This was certainly a clever trick in
theological magic, and, if the end did not seem to justify the means to
critical philosophic eyes, we may admit, at least, that it was better
to exorcise the possessed than to burn them alive at the stake, as was
done some centuries later.
“This doctrine of demons was so intimately intermixed with the dogmas
of this perfected religious system by the Fathers of the Church,” says
Sprengel, that “it is not astonishing authors attributed many phenomena
of nature to the influence of demons.” One of the most celebrated
doctors of the Church, Origen, of Alexandria, in his _Apology for
Christianity_, remarks: “There are demons that produce famines,
sterility, corruption of the air, epidemics; they flutter surrounded
by fogs in the lower regions of the atmosphere, and are drawn by the
blood of their victims in the incense that the pagans offer them as
their Divinity. Without the odor of sacrifice, these demons could
not preserve their influence. They have the most exquisite senses,
are capable of the greatest activity, and possess the most extended
experience.”
Saint Augustin had already written that demons were the agents of the
diseases of Christians, and attacked even the new-born who came to
receive baptism.
The Church taught that these demons acted through the intermediary of
fallen creatures who were in revolt against God and his holy ministers.
Such were the sorcerers and female mediums, who were met among ruins,
in rocky cavern, and in other hidden and obscure places. For a morsel
of bread or a handful of barley such creatures could be consulted;
one could demand from them the secrets of the future, instruments for
revenge, charms to secure love.
Among these sorcerers there were old panderers, who knew, from personal
experience, all practices of debauchery, and who gave the name of
_vigils_ to the saturnalia indulged in among villagers on certain
nights, gatherings composed of bawds and pimps, to which were invited
numerous novices in libidinousness. These sorcerers and witches also
knew the remedies that young girls must take when they wish to destroy
the physiological results of their imprudences, and what old men need
to restore their virility. They knew the medicinal qualities of plants,
especially those that stupified. Perhaps a few of these sorcerers
discovered, from magical incantations, the epoch of deliverance from
Feudal morals, the abolition of servitude, equality and liberty. One
thing is certain, however, _i.e._, that the clergy saw nothing in them
save enemies of the Church and religion, creatures who were dangerous
to society and deserving only destruction, _per fas et nefas_, by
exorcism, by fire—indeed, even by the accusations tortured out of
insane persons.
Thus, Pope Gregory IX., in a letter addressed to several German
Bishops in 1234, described the initiation of sorcerers as follows:
“When the master sorcerers receive a novice, and this novice enters
their assembly for the first time, he sees a toad of enormous size—as
large, in fact, as a goose. Some kiss its mouth, others its rear.
Then the novice meets a pale man, with very black eyes, and so thin
as to appear only skin and bones; he kisses this creature, too, and
feels a chill as cold as ice. After this kiss it is easy to forget the
Catholic faith. The sorcerers then assemble at a banquet, during which
a black cat descends from behind a statue that is usually placed in the
center of the gathering. The novice kisses the rear anatomy of this
cat, after which he salutes, in a similar manner, those who preside at
the feast and others worthy of the honor. The apprentice in sorcery
receives in return only the kiss of the master; after this the lights
are extinguished and all manner of impure acts are committed among the
assemblage.“[53]
This was the belief, then, of those who a few years later composed the
“_Tribunal of the Inquisition_” and accepted the banner of Loyola,
and shortly afterwards again a member of the congregation of Saint
Dominick and professor of theology, Barthelemi de Lepine, convinced
of the existence of demons and Demonidolators, showed himself to be
a furious adversary of the sorcerers in a famous dissertation, which
was immediately adopted by his co-religionists. He affirmed that “the
_possessed_ go to the _sorcerers’_ meetings in body or in spirit and
have carnal intercourse with the devil; that they immolate children,
transforming them into animals notably cats; that they have obscene
visions, and it is best to exterminate them, for their number is
growing legion.”
Barthelemi de Lepine, in speaking thus, only followed the traditions
of the Fathers of the Church; of Saint George, Saint Eparchius, Saint
Bernard, Innocent VIII., and of Antonio Torquemada, who were the
historians of the _incubi_ of their times, and launched anathemas
against the _possessed_ of the Demon of luxury.
The Jesuit father Costadau wrote, in his treatise _De Signis_,
_apropos_ of incubism: “The thing is too singular to treat lightly. We
would not believe it ourselves had we not been convinced by personal
experience with the Demon’s malice, and, on the other hand, find an
infinity of writings of the first order from Popes, theologians,
and philosophers, who have sustained and proved that there are men
so unfortunate as to have shameful commerce and other things more
execrable with such demons.”
Another Jesuit, Martin Antoine del Rio, published six books
(_Disquisitiones Magicæ_) in 1599, in which his credulity attained
the limit of fanaticism, thus making the good priest one of the most
redoubtable enemies of demonomania. Such were the doctrines on which
reposed the theocratical pretensions of the theologians.
It is not astonishing that the last years of the Middle Ages,
during the time religious struggles reached their highest period
of exacerbation, owing to the quarrels between the Court of Rome
and the Reformation, witnessed the multiplication in the number of
demonomaniacs to such an extent that the whole world commenced to
believe in the power of demons. “At this unfortunate time,” remarks
Esquirol, “the excommunicated, the sorcerers and the damned were
seen everywhere; alarmed, the Church created tribunals, before which
the devil was summoned to appear and the _possessed_ were brought to
judgment; scaffolds were erected, funeral pyres were lighted around
stakes, and demonomaniacs, under the names of sorcerers and possessed,
doubly the victims of prevailing errors, were burnt alive, after being
tortured to make them renounce pretended compacts made with the Evil
One. There was a jurisprudence against sorcery and magic as there
were laws against theft and murder. The people, seeing the Church
and Princes believing in the reality of these extravagances, were
positively persuaded as to the existence of demons.”
No authority raised itself to protect these miserable possessed
people; justice, philosophy, and science remained subjected to
theology, becoming more and more the accomplices of an autocratic and
ever-intolerant Church.
Among the magistrates, historians and publicists, who were the most
ardent supporters of the Inquisition, we may mention J. Bodin, of
Angers, who published, in 1581, a work entitled _Demonomanie_. He
shows that the victims of demonomania enjoy perfect integrity of the
mental faculties and are in every sense responsible, before Courts of
Ecclesiastical Justice and Parliaments, for their impure relations with
supernatural beings, and he logically concludes that all Demonomaniacs
should be committed to the stakes and burnt alive. “Meantime,” says
this amiable author, “we can deliver the possessed by exorcisms, and
animals may be thus exorcised as well as men.” To the support of his
thesis he then brings an immense collection of ridiculous stories,
which are not supported by evidence. He says: “Those possessed by
a demon can spit rags, hair, wood and nails from their mouths.” He
cites the case of a possessed woman who had her chin turned towards
her back, tongue pushed out of the mouth, a throat which furnished
sounds analogous to the crowing of a crow, the chatter of a magpie and
the song of the cuckoo. Finally, he pretends that the devil may speak
through the mouth of the possessed and use all the idioms, known and
unknown; that he can deflower young girls and give them voluptuous
sensations, etc.
This work of J. Bodin is, in reality, the argument of a public
prosecutor, presented with passion and prejudice, having all the
erroneous arguments of the Inquisitors, so that the latter were more
than satisfied at convincing the secular magistrates and fixing their
jurisdiction as to the crime of sorcery. On the other hand, the same
year that Bodin gave publicity to his inhuman side of the question,
the _Essays of Michel Montaigne_ appeared in Paris, in which this
celebrated writer appealed to philosophy. He demanded that human life
should be protected from fantastic accusations, and made that famous
response to a Prince who showed him some sorcerers condemned to death:
“In faith, I would rather prescribe hellebore than hemlock faggots, as
they appear to be more insane than culpable.” Montaigne concluded one
of his essays on this subject with the satirical remark: “It is placing
a high valuation on human conjecture when we cook a man alive for an
opinion.”
Meantime, Bodin had reasoned against Montaigne. But the one remained
the ignorant prosecutor of the Middle Ages, while the other was an
immortal philosopher, whom Colbert certainly quoted before presenting
to Louis XIV. the famous edict of 1682, which forbade in the future
“_the cooking alive of sorcerers_.”
Meantime, there was still a century to attain before one of the
Prime Ministers of France put an end to all trials for sorcery, and
during the intervening period there were other purveyors of the death
penalty by the stake-burners of the Inquisition; among these were the
celebrated Boguet, Criminal Judge of Bourgogne, and Pierre de l’Ancre,
his colleague of Aquitanus, cited by Calmeil as the most fanatical
judges of their day.
Boguet, in his _Discours des Sorciers_, wrote: “There were in France
only three hundred thousand under King Charles IX., and they have since
increased more than half as much again. The Germans prevent their
growth by burning at the stake; the Swiss destroy whole villages at
one time; in Lorraine the stranger may see thousands existing with but
few executions. It is difficult to understand why France cannot purge
itself of these creatures. These sorcerers walk around by thousands
and multiply on earth like caterpillars in our gardens. I wish I could
enforce punishment according to my ideas, for the earth would soon be
purged of those possessed. For I fain would collect them all in one
mass and burn them alive in a single bonfire.”
Pierre de l’Ancre, Councillor to the Parliament of Bordeaux, published
in 1613 his _Tableau de l’inconstance des mauvais anges et demons_,
and in 1622 his _Incredulite et mecreance du sortilege pleinement
convaincue_. In these two works the author treats all questions
regarding sorcery, and declares that in his capacity of judge he
believes it a mistake to spare the life of any individual accused
of magic, as he considers sorcerers _as the enemies of morality and
religion_, and accuses them of having found means of “ravishing women
even while they laid in the embraces of their husbands, thus forcing
and violating the sacred oaths of marriage, for the victims are
made adulterous even in the presence of their husbands, who remain
motionless and dishonored without power to prevent; the women mute,
enshrouded in a forced silence, invoking in vain the help of the
husband against the sorcerer’s attack, and calling uselessly for aid;
the husband charmed and unable to offer resistance, suffering his own
dishonor with open eyes and helpless arms.
“The sorcerers dance around the bed in an indecent manner, like at a
Bacchanalian feast, accoupling adulterously in a diabolical fashion,
committing execrable sodomies, blaspheming scandalously, taking
insidious carnal revenges, perpetrating all manner of unnatural acts,
brutalizing and denaturalizing all physical functions, holding frogs,
vipers, and lizards, and other deadly animal poisons in their hands,
making stinking smells, caressing with lascivious amorousness, giving
themselves over to horrible and shameful orgies.”
Thus says the Prosecutor of the Council of Bordeaux, but he fails
to support his statements by a single material fact, not even one
individual case being proven. His trials show nothing but a few poor
demented women, who responded always in the affirmative to the obscene
and indecent questions of the judges and prosecutors _employed by the
Most Holy Inquisition_.
A sad thing philosophy registers celebrated names during this Age.
We mention only those of Rene Descartes, Blaise Pascal, Nicholas
Malebranche, Thomas Hobbes, Francis Bacon, Leibnitz, and the immortal
Newton. Unfortunately these great geniuses could not take part in
the struggle between the clerical party and free thinkers. Honored
as scholars, their Governments never asked their advice on questions
claimed to be under the control of religious orders. The clergy had all
the latitude they desired in writing the history of demonology, and
also the evidence wrung from those accused of sorcery—vague responses
drawn out by fear, by torture, by suggestion imposed in the obscurity
of a penitential tabernacle. A witness of veracity, as we have before
stated, never gave testimony as to the conduct of the sorcerers at the
secret vigils. Their invocations on initiation, their famous inunctions
used on the body, with magical ointments while in a condition of
absolute nudity; their equestrian position on broom sticks; their
flying tricks up the chimney and their bewitched reunions when horned
devils rode on their shoulders, are legendary recitals which could
only be accepted by ignorant fanatics and judges firm in the Faith.
How a man with the seeming intelligence of Prosecutor Bodin, who was
delegated by the State, who wrote six works on _The Republic_ and _The
Constitution_—works which have been compared in point of ability as
ranking with Montesquieu’s _Spirit of the Law_; how a publicist of
talent could support such stories as we have mentioned in his work on
sorcery is a matter of profound amazement. Yet, Bodin testifies as to
his faith in the story of that peasant of Touraine “who found himself
naked, wandering around the fields in the morning,” and who gave as
an explanation of his conduct that he had surprised his wife the night
before as she was making preparations to go to a sorcerers’ vigil, and
that he had followed his better half, accompanied by the Devil, as far
as Bordeaux, many leagues away. Bodin also believed the narration of
that girl from Lyons “whom the lover perceived rubbing herself with
magical ointment preparatory to attending a sorcerers’ vigil; and the
lover, using the same ointment, followed his girl and arrived at the
vigil almost as soon as she.”
As to that poor peasant who was found naked and alone in the field
and forced to denounce his wife to the authorities, Bodin remarks
impressively, “The woman confessed and was condemned to be burnt at the
stake.”
Pierre de l’Ancre was never able to prove his stories by sentinels,
sergeants, guards, or policemen, as to the appearance of the demon he
described in his _Traite sur les demons_; a spirit that showed itself
as a large blood-hound or as a wild bull. It is true that in another
part of his book he demonstrates the changeable character of his Devil,
and gives the following description, which methinks is more worthy the
pen of an insane man rather than that of a magistrate: “The Devil of
the _sabbat_ (vigil) is seated in a black chair, with a crown of black
thorns, two horns at the side of the head and one in the forehead with
which he gores the assemblage. The Devil has bristling hair, pale and
troubled looking face, large round eyes widely opened, inflamed and
hideous looking, a goatee, a crooked neck, the body of a man combined
with that of a billy goat, hands like those of a human being, except
that the nails are crooked and sharp pointed at the ends; the hands are
curved backwards. The Devil has a tail like that of a jackass, with
which, strange to say, he modestly covers his private parts. He has
a frightful voice without melody; he preserves a strange and superb
gravity, having the countenance of a person who is very melancholy and
tired out from overwork.”
This was the spirit of the lieutenants of justice called on by the
Inquisitorial clergy to fix the penalty for the crime of sorcery.
“Sorcery being a crime,” say they with the spirit of conviction,
“consented to between man and the Devil; the man bowing to adore
Satan, and receiving in exchange a part of his infernal power.”
According to this compact, “The demon unites carnally with the sorcerer
and female medium likewise; these unite themselves with Satan, denying
God, Christ and the Virgin, and profaning all objects of sanctity by
their profane presence.
“They become zealots for evil and render eternal homage to the Prince
of Darkness.
“They are baptized by the Devil and dedicate to his service all
children born to them by nature.
“They commit incests, poison people, and bewitch and work cattle to
death.
“They eat the carrion from the rotting bodies of hanged criminals.
“They enter into a Cabalistic circle laid out by the accursed one,
and matriculate in a secret order which is engaged in all manner of
outrages against society; they accept secret marks that affirm their
complete vassalage to Satan.
“Finally, they repudiate all authority other than that of the master
in the Cabala (Kabbala), and, abomination above all, _they incite the
people to revolt_.”
Meantime, while the Judges and Inquisitors pursued all intelligent
people with the most wicked determination, Leloyer published his
monograph on specters,[54] whose doctrines are closely connected with
modern Spiritualistic theories.
This celebrated Councillor wrote that the soul, the spiritual essence
which animates the organism, may be distracted and separated from the
body for an instant, as we see in cases of ecstacy.
Now, we know that this nervous phenomenon, which may be _natural_, when
connected with catalepsy, hysteria and somnambulism, or _provoked_ when
it is produced experimentally on subjects in a hypnotic condition,
almost always coincides with an acute moral impression and a suspension
of one or more of the senses. It is during the duration of this
phenomenon that the soul, according to Leloyer, performs far-off
journeys,—not orthodox, however, for we are told that during the period
of such ecstacies, following cataleptic immobility, seven of these
ecstatics were burned alive at Nantes in 1549.
In another chapter, he adds that souls may, after death, impress
themselves on our senses by taking fantastic forms. He supports
this opinion by the incident relative to a daughter of the famous
Juriscouncillor of the sixteenth century, Charles Dumoulin, who
appeared to her husband and told him the names of assassins; and of the
specter who informed the Justice of the crime committed by the woman
Sornin on her husband, that the soul of Commodus appeared so often to
Caracalla.
The author of the _Spectres_ attributes to supernatural beings the
frights experienced by certain persons who live in haunted houses.
Every night they are awakened by the sound of noises,—blows resound
on the floor and raps come on the partitions; every few minutes there
are peals of ghostly laughter, whistling, clapping of hands to attract
attention; these nervous persons see spirits and are startled at sudden
apparitions of the dead; specters seize them by the feet, nose, ears,
and even go so far as sit on their chests. Such houses are said to be
the rendezvous of demons.
The persons spoken of by Leloyer _are to-day known as mediums producing
physical effects_, and the phenomena observed centuries since are
evidently the same as those investigated by William Crookes, with the
collaboration of Kate Fox and Home.[55]
“In the ecstacy of sorcerers,” resumes Leloyer, “the soul is present,
but is so preoccupied by the impressions that it receives from the
Devil, that it cannot act on the body it animates. On awaking, such
ecstatics may remember things they have seen, events in which they have
assisted, as in the case when the soul temporarily abandons its earthly
tenement.”
Meanwhile, it is but fair to observe that the author makes certain
reservations; he admits that ecstacy and hallucination may be provoked
by a pathological condition of the nervous system, and are not always
the result of the work of demons. He also comments on a certain number
of vampires remaining in a lethargic sleep, from a nervous condition,
after returning from a sorcerer’s vigil, a fact which, according to
Calmeil, was of a nature to throw the theories of the Councillors of
the Inquisition into disfavor.
The theory of the author of _Spectres_ resembles considerably, as will
at once be noticed, that of the first Magii and the modern doctrine
of Spiritualism. Leloyer, besides, has gathered a number of facts to
support his affirmations; among others, he cites the observation given
him by Philip de Melanchton, the learned Hellenist and author of the
famous confession of Augsburg. This was a spiritual manifestation
experienced by the widow of Melanchton’s uncle: One day, while weeping
and thinking of the dear lost one, two spirits appeared to her
suddenly,—“one habited in the stately, dignified form of her husband,
the other specter in the garb of a gray friar. The one representing her
husband approached her and said a few consoling words, touched her hand
and disappeared with his monkish companion.”
Melanchton, although one of the chiefs of the Reformation, was still
imbued with the ideas of the Romish Church; after some hesitation he
concluded that the specters seen by his aunt were demons. The same
phenomena have been observed by modern _mediums_; William Crookes, the
celebrated London scientist, relates facts to which he has been witness
which are even more extraordinary than the one we have just narrated.
Jerome Cardan, of Paris, the celebrated mathematician, renowned for
his discovery of the formula for resolving cubic equations, solemnly
affirmed that he had a protecting spirit, and never doubted the reality
of this apparition. Cardan also tells how his father one evening
received a visit from seven specters, who did not fear to enter into an
argument with the learned old man.
Imagination, exalted by chimerical fear of demons, sees the work of
these evil-doing spirits on every hand, in gambling, in sickness, in
accidents, in infirmity, in all the ordinary accidents of life. The
sorcerers are accused of attacking man’s virility by witchcraft. The
victims say that some one has knotted their private organs (_noue
l’aiguilette_). This pretended catastrophe in magic, the origin of
which dates back to times of antiquity, may be classed among abnormal
physiological effects under the influence of a moral cause, fear,
timidity, and certainly the suggestion of a feeble mind.
Such are the sorcerers that Bodin accuses, perhaps not without reason
always, since we see that impotency in some young melancholic subjects
who appear easily impressed with fantastic notions.
“Sorcerers,” says Bodin, “have the power to remove but a single organ
from the body, that is, the virile organ; this thing they often do
in Germany, often hiding a man’s privates in his belly, and in this
connection Spranger tells of a man at Spire who thought he had lost
his privates and visited all the physicians and surgeons in the
neighborhood, who could find nothing where the virile organs had once
been, neither wound nor scar; but the victim having made peace with the
sorcerer, to his great joy soon had his treasure restored.”
There was no need of this kind of witchcraft, _pour nouer
l’aiguilette_, in a timid boy, already subjugated by fear of the devil.
Certainly, if the sorcerers had ideas of that force which is known
to-day as _suggestion_, they could very easily destroy the virile power
of the subject by governing his will and thoughts, his physical and
moral personality. When we can confiscate the physical anatomy of a
man he is reduced to all manner of impotencies. Who will affirm that
suggestion is not one of the mysteries of sorcery?