“Primus ordo sanctissimus; secundus ordo sanctior; tertius sanctus.
Primus sicut sol ardescit; secundus sicut luna; tertius sicut
stellæ.”--See the ancient catalogue of the three classes of Irish saints,
as published by Usher and Lanigan.
There lived to Erin’s hallowed borders,
In days of yore, three saintly Orders.
And first, the simply HOLY:--They
Shed like the stars a flickering ray.
The second--HOLIER--poured a light
Moon-like, subdued and calmly bright.
The third, or HOLIEST of all,
Shone like the sun--or like Saint Paul.
But, oh, the state of man’s unrest
In good!--the _last_ were first and best.
The _middle_ but a term between
The purest and the least serene;
Less than the greatest--greater far
Than those whose emblem is the star.
Waning they ran a downward race,
With fainter faith and lessening grace,
Till, reaching to the stage most lowly,
The least and latest were the Holy.
Oh, that they there had staid!--that sin
Had, to this swept and garnished inn
Returning, found the entrance barred,
And Faith still keeping watch and ward!--
Alas!--they slept in Ease’s bower;
They could not “watch one little hour.”
The stars their ineffectual light
In slumber sealed. The thief by night
Entered; and o’er the rich domain
Sowed tares among the better grain.
Sin flourished;--poverty and strife
Embittered all the charms of life;
And passion, with unbounded sway,
Swept sun and moon and stars away.
And yet not ever such, sweet Isle,
Shall be thy fate. The stars shall smile
Again upon thy valleys green,
Again the moon shall beam serene
Upon thy mountains; and the bright
Celestial sun clothe thee with light,
With plenty bless, and warm and cheer
Thy long-delayed millenial year.
Even now the sacred morning dawns,
The clouds are fleeting from thy lawns;
And, as light thickens in the sky,
Lo! Riot and Intemperance fly;
And chaste sobriety imparts
Her cup, and Industry his arts.
Peace, Love, and Holiness once more
Row their sweet ark towards thy shore;
And Heaven renews the favouring smile
That made thee once the SAINTLY ISLE.
ANIMAL CHARMING, OR THE SUBJUGATION OF ANIMALS BY MEANS OF CHARMS,
SPELLS, OR DRUGS.
Third and Concluding Article.
In my last paper I endeavoured to show how exceedingly absurd and
unfounded was the notion of the Abbé Dubois and Denon, that the
serpent-charmers of India were and are a set of juggling impostors,
who practise on the credulity of the vulgar, and vainly set forward
pretensions to an art which has no actual existence, and which,
consequently, possesses no legitimate claims on the attention of the
philosophic inquirer. I now wish to bring all that I would observe upon
this very curious subject to a conclusion. I acknowledge my inability
to furnish my readers with a thorough explanation of the means by which
these wonders are performed, but I think I may be able, at all events, to
suggest such hints as may place them on the direct path to the attainment
of the knowledge they desire; after which, nothing will be necessary
but some degree of research and perseverance to afford them a complete
gratification of their wishes.
It is evident, that whatever may be the supplementary means employed in
serpent-charming, music is necessary to its accomplishment. I should not
be satisfied on this point were it merely dependent upon the assertions
of the jugglers themselves, as in such case it might not unnaturally be
set down as a mere external cloak for some more important secret which
the performers did not wish to be discovered; and for this reason I made
the observation in my first article on this subject, that the precise
importance of the music in these operations was not as yet entirely
apparent. I wish it to be understood, however, that although the degree
of importance in which music should be held as an adjunct to the charming
of snakes, or as a primary part of the process, has not as yet been
ascertained by those who have investigated or endeavoured to investigate
the business, and published the results of their inquiries, I for my
part am fully satisfied on the subject. To return, however, to our more
immediate matter of discussion.
Many have conceived that serpent-charming depends in the first instance
upon the snakes being previously deprived of their fangs, and thus
rendered innocuous. This opinion I have already demonstrated as palpably
erroneous. Others, again, hold that the jugglers possess a power, by
eating certain herbs, or chewing the leaves or roots of certain plants,
of rendering themselves proof against animal poisons. In order to render
themselves perfectly secure, it is said that their practice is to chew
the herbs, to inoculate various parts of their body with the juice, and
even bathe themselves in water in which these herbs have been steeped.
It is supposed that the bodies of the charmers thus become not merely
proof against the most deadly poison should they chance to be bitten,
but that those thus prepared exhale from their persons an odour which
produces a benumbing or stupifying effect upon the reptiles, and renders
them an easy capture. Whether or not it be true that such is the case,
we know that the Psylli not merely profess the power of charming snakes,
but also that of curing by spells, and the application of certain herbs,
such as have been bitten by them. We are informed by the historian and
biographer Plutarch, that Cato in his march through the desert took with
him many of those persons called Psylli (then a distinct tribe, though at
the present day that name is applied indiscriminately to all professing
the art of serpent-charming) to suck out the poison from the wounds of
any of his soldiers that might chance to be bitten by any of the numerous
venomous serpents which infested his route. The powers of the Psylli were
then always attributed to magic, and the performers themselves took care
to confirm that opinion by accompanying the application of remedies to
their patients with muttered spells or elaborately wrought and imposing
incantations. This is a testimony respecting the ancient repute in which
charmers were held, not lightly to be rejected.
While some travellers are too sceptical, I have likewise to complain
that others are too credulous. For instance, while Dubois and Denon
scout the idea of serpents being charmed at all, Bruce asserts, and
that from minute personal observation, that all the blacks of Sennaar
are completely armed by nature against the bite of either scorpion or
viper. “They will,” says he, “take their horned snakes (there the most
common and one of the most fatal of the viper tribe) in their hands at
all times, put them in their bosoms, and throw them at one another as
children will balls or apples, during which sport the serpents are seldom
irritated to bite, or if they do, no mischief results from the wound.” Of
course it must be evident that Bruce in this instance ascribed rather too
much to the bounty of nature, and forgot how far art might have aided in
producing the appearance which astonished him.
Don Pedro D’Orbies Y. Vargas, who published in the year 1791 the result
of a series of investigations he instituted to ascertain the secret on
which serpent-charming depended, informs us that it is also extensively
practised by the natives of South America, and that they produce the
wished-for end by means of a certain plant named the quacho-mithy, so
designated from its having been first observed to have been resorted
to by the serpent-hawk, or, as the bird is sometimes styled, the
“quacho-mithy,” and by it sucked, preparatory to its encounters with
the poisonous reptiles which it fought with and destroyed for its prey.
Taking the hint from the naturally and instinctively instructed bird,
the Indians chewed the plant thus discovered, and inoculated and washed
their bodies with its juice, rubbing it into punctures made in their
breasts, hands, and feet; and, thus prepared, they dreaded not the bite
of the most venomous snake. Don Pedro himself, and the domestics of
his household, used after these simple precautions to venture into the
thickest woods and the most dangerous meadows, and fearlessly seize in
their hands the largest and most poisonous serpents; the creatures seemed
as if under the influence of a sort of charm or fascination, and very
rarely attempted to bite; and at any rate, even if they did, no evil
consequence resulted from the wound beyond the temporary inconvenience
produced by the laceration of the flesh by the animals’ teeth.
The same gentleman to whom I was indebted for the anecdote of the
encounter with the cobra de capella, mentioned in a preceding paper,
informed me that he had detected a snake-charmer in the act of chewing
and inoculating himself with some plant, the name or character of
which he could not however ascertain, though he offered the juggler a
considerable sum for the information. One of the leaves of this plant,
and the only one he saw, he states to have been of a long and narrow
form, with the sides indented or scolloped, somewhat like those of our
own common dandelion.
Now, it appears to me by no means difficult of deduction from the
facts brought forward in this and the preceding papers on the same
subject, that the secret of the snake-charmers is dependent upon two
ingredients, viz, in the first place the employment of an antidote which
will not only mollify the effects of the reptiles’ venom, should the
experimenters happen to be bitten, but, from some peculiar odour which it
emits, stupify or intoxicate the snake, and indispose it from violence,
inclining it rather to appreciate the melody with which they are treating
it, and luxuriate in hearing of their fife; and, in the second place, the
sounds of music which the whole class of reptiles appear more or less to
be sensible of, and which will induce the serpents to quit their holes
when they come within the sphere of the influence of the intoxicating
odour, and, abandoning themselves to its effects, fall into a state
of temporary oblivion, and are taken captive. We ourselves are well
acquainted with several substances which are capable of producing upon
such creatures as we are conversant with in these islands, effects no
less astonishing than those produced upon the snakes by the charmers of
India or South America. It is, for instance, a very common thing, and
an experiment I have not only often seen tried, but have tried myself
dozens of times, and that with success, to charm trout, perch, or roach,
with assafœtida. If you sprinkle this substance, finely powdered, upon
the surface of the water, you will presently see the fish crowding to
the spot; and even if you rub your hands well with it, and, gradually
approaching the water, gently immerse them in it, you will ere long find
the fish attracted towards you, and, losing their natural timidity,
actually permit themselves to be taken. Many have imagined that it was
upon the use of a certain drug that the wonderful power possessed and
successfully exerted by Sullivan, the whisperer, depended; but for my
part I think the circumstance of Sullivan’s son having been unable
to produce similar effects, although instructed by his father in the
mystery, is sufficient to show that Sullivan’s trick depended upon some
means less certain in operation than the mere employment of a drug would
be, and in which mechanical dexterity and personal bearing occupied
places of no mean importance.
Rat-catchers used formerly to employ certain drugs, or combinations of
them, to collect these vermin into one place, and thus destroy them
wholesale, or to entice them into the trap; and it has been pretended by
some worthy members of this ancient and mystic calling, that they are
possessed of secrets by which they can, if they please, draw away all the
rats from any premises on which they may be employed. I have, however,
sought after the most _talented_ living professors of rat-catching,
and I cannot say I have ever witnessed miracles equal to that. I have,
however, _seen_ a trap placed in a cellar haunted by rats, and left
there all night, filled next morning with these vermin to the number of
thirty, and surrounded by a host of others, who actually could not enter
from want of room! I have _seen_ a tame white rat smeared with a certain
composition, let loose in a vault, and in less than half an hour return,
followed by at least half a dozen others, who appeared so enamoured of
the white-coloured decoy, or of some scent that hung about him, that
they suffered themselves to be taken alive in the rat-catcher’s hand,
and never so much as offer to bite. I purchased this secret from an old
rat-catcher, and have much pleasure in communicating it to the public,
and more especially to the discriminating patrons of the Irish Penny
Journal. It consists of the following simple preparation:--
Powdered assafœtida 2 grains.
Essential oil of rhodium 3 drachms.
Essential oil of lavender 1 scruple.
Oil of aniseed 1 drachm.
Let the assafœtida be first well triturated with the aniseed, then add
the oil of rhodium, still continuing to rub the material well up together
in a mortar, after which add the oil of lavender, and cork up the mixture
in a close bottle until required. The method of employing this receipt is
very simple, and consists merely in smearing the decoy rat with it, in
mixing a few drops of it with a little flour or starch, and employing the
paste thus formed as a bait for the trap; and if you anoint your hands
with this mixture, you may put them into a cage full of rats without
the slightest danger of a bite. I have done so repeatedly myself, and
never got bitten unless when I had prepared the composition improperly,
or displayed timidity in proceeding to handle the animals--a defect of
demeanour which appears capable of counteracting the working of the charm.
The liking which rats exhibit for the perfume produced by the above
simple composition is truly wonderful, but will be readily admitted,
even while as yet its efficacy remains untested, by any person who has
witnessed the passion exhibited by cats for valerian, or of dogs for
galbanum, and after much consideration and attentive observation I have
come to the conclusion that the effects produced by different substances
upon these animals have a common origin, viz., in the peculiar odour
calling into play the sexual appetite, and that too in a more than
commonly energetic manner; of course I only mean to apply this latter
observation to the case of dogs, rats, and cats. I have no intention
of thus seeking to explain away the effect produced upon serpents
or fishes by certain odours, accompanied by music; indeed, in these
instances I should rather ascribe the effects produced to a sort of
intoxicating, fascinating influence, bearing no distant resemblance to
the power exercised towards other animals by many of the serpent tribe
themselves. The fascination of the rattle-snake, for example, seems in a
great measure to depend upon the agency of a certain intoxicating odour
which the reptile has the power of producing at pleasure. In support of
this opinion I may adduce the testimony of Major A. Gordon, who thus
explains the fascination of serpents in a paper read before the New York
Historical Society. He adduced various facts in support of his opinions,
and amongst the rest mentions a negro, who could by smell alone discover
a rattle-snake when in the exercise of this power, at the distance of
two hundred feet, and who, following such indications, never failed of
finding some poor animal drawn within its vortex, and in vain struggling
with the irresistible influence. By no means remotely allied to charming
and fascination would appear to be that mysterious and as yet doubtful
power, animal magnetism, a subject on which I shall not dilate, as it
hardly falls within the limits indicated by the heading of this paper,
which has now run to a length considerably greater than I contemplated
at starting; and consequently I think it time to take my leave, trusting
I have at least given a clue to the great secret on which depends the
magical influence of the serpent-charmer.