‘Sir Thomas Brown of Norwich, the famous physician of his time,
was desired by my Lord Chief Baron [Hale] to give his judgement
[in a case of witchcraft]. And he declared that he was clearly of
opinion That the Fits were natural, but heightened by the devil
co-operating with the malice of the witches at whose instance he
did the villanies. And he added, That in Denmark there had been
lately a great Discovery of Witches, who used the very same way of
afflicting persons by conveying pins into them.’
The jury ‘having Sir Thomas Brown’s Declaration about Denmark for their
encouragement, in half an hour brought them in guilty.... They were
hanged maintaining their innocence.’[341]
Had Brown been better acquainted with _The Deceptions of Demons_ he
might have hesitated to make that ‘Declaration about Denmark’, but
Weyer’s early opponent, Bishop Binsfeld, has no difficulties. Quoting
Origen (in Matt. xvii. 15) he exclaims, ‘Physicians may say what they
like, we who believe the Gospel hold that devils cause lunacy’ and
many other diseases.[342] But for a demon to cause disease or do other
harm, two things are requisite, the permission of God and the free will
of some malicious person, witch, or sorcerer. The physician, Weyer,
has denied the possibility of a compact with the devil, but is easily
refuted by Scripture and Church authority. Did not the devil try to
make a compact with Christ Himself?[343] Similarly he has no difficulty
in showing that the Hebrew word for witch means much more than
‘poisoner’, and, given the almost universal beliefs of the age, it must
be admitted that Brown and the bishop have the best of the argument.
In the opening chapter of his well-known work on rationalism, Lecky
says that the decline of the belief in witchcraft ‘presents a spectacle
not of argument and conflict, but of silent evanescence and decay’;
it was ‘unargumentative and insensible’. Scot’s work ‘exercised no
appreciable influence’, and, so far as the result was concerned, he,
Weyer, and their like might as well have kept quiet and waited for
the change to be effected by ‘what is called the spirit of the age’,
that is, ‘a gradual insensible yet profound modification of the habits
of thought’ due to ‘the progress of civilization’. This theory has
been ably criticized elsewhere.[344] The truth it contains seems to
be that argument would not have sufficed to change public opinion
about witchcraft, without the aid of changes in other matters, and
especially the development and success of scientific investigation.
Such discoveries as the motion of the earth and circulation of the
blood, when generally accepted (which was not till late in the
seventeenth century), showed that the learned as well as the vulgar
might be utterly mistaken in important beliefs supported by apparently
good evidence, and that scientific methods of attaining truth differed
widely from those of the witch-hunters.
The progress of civilization by practically abolishing the use of
torture would alone have immensely diminished the number of victims,
and of those ‘confessions’ on which the belief was fed. To use military
language, the witch mania was an ugly and formidable redoubt connected
with other forts and entrenchments. It suffered somewhat from the
bombardment by Weyer and Scot, but could only be finally demolished by
a general advance of the forces of science and civilization. But if
every one had trusted to ‘the spirit of the age’ rather than disturb
his neighbours’ beliefs, we might still be burning our grandmothers.
Though born in what is now Holland and educated in France, German
writers claim Weyer as their countryman and compare him with Martin
Luther. The monk of Wittenberg is indeed a fine figure with his ‘Here
stand I; I cannot otherwise, God help me!’ But he had half Germany
behind him; both princes and populace were ready to protect him. Weyer
stood practically alone, and if he escaped being burnt by jurists and
theologians, had a fair chance of being lynched by an enraged mob as a
sorcerer and protector of witches. There was little to save him from
torture and death but the strength of mind of Duke William of Cleves,
who came of an insane family and already showed signs of melancholia.
Weyer was happily spared such a trial of his fortitude, but none
the less does he deserve our admiration as the chivalrous champion
of womanhood, who first, with vizor up and lance in rest, greeted,
alas! not, like the knights of legend, by prayers and blessings but
by threats and imprecations, went forth to do open battle with the
hideous monster which had so long tortured and slain the innocent and
helpless.
[Illustration: Plate XLI. THE BODLEIAN MANUSCRIPT