THE CONVULSIONISTS OF ST. MÉDARD

Of all the mental epidemics that have visited Europe, beyond question

the most remarkable, and in some of its features the most inexplicable,

is that which prevailed in Paris some hundred and thirty years ago,

among what were called _the Convulsionists of St. Médard_.

The celebrated Jansenius, Bishop of Ypres, during his life the opponent

and enemy of the Jesuits, whom he caused to be excluded from the

theological schools of Louvain, left behind him, at his death, a

treatise, posthumously published in 1640, entitled, "Augustinus," in

which he professed to set forth the true opinions of St. Augustine on

those century-long disputed questions of Grace, Free-Will, and

Predestination. Taking ground against the Molinists, he contended for

the doctrine of Predestination antecedent and absolute, a gift purely

gratuitous, of God's free grace, independent of any virtue or merit in

the recipient soul. This doctrine, set forth in five propositions, was

condemned, in the middle of the seventeenth century, by Popes Innocent

X. and Alexander VII.; and against it, when revived by Father Quesnel in

the beginning of the eighteenth century, there was fulminated, in 1713,

by Pope Clement XI., the famous Bull _Unigenitus_.

From this Bull, accepted in France after long opposition, the Jansenist

party appealed to a future Papal Council, thence deriving their name of

_Appellants_. Among these, one of the most noted and zealous was the

Diacre Pâris, who refused a curacy, to avoid signing his adhesion to

what he regarded as heresy, consumed his fortune in works of charity,

and his health in austerities of a character so excessive that they

abridged his life. Dying, as his partisans have it, in the odor of

sanctity, and protesting with his last breath against the doctrines of

the obnoxious Bull, his remains were deposited, on the second of May,

1727, in the small church-yard of St. Médard, situated in the twelfth

_arrondissement_ of Paris, on the Rue Mouffetard, not far from the

Jardin des Plantes.

To the tomb of one whom they regarded as a martyr to their cause the

Jansenist Appellants habitually resorted, in all the fervor of religious

zeal, heated to enthusiasm by the persecution of the dominant party. And

there, after a time, phenomena presented themselves, which caused for

years, throughout the French capital and among the theologians of that

age, a fever of excitement; and which, though they have been noticed by

medical and other writers of our own century, have not yet, in my

judgment, attracted, either from the medical profession or from the

pneumatological inquirer, the attention they deserve.

Of these phenomena a portion were physical, and a portion were mental or

psychological. The former, first appearing in the early part of the year

1731, consisted (as alleged) partly of extraordinary cures, the apparent

result of violent convulsive movements which overtook the patients soon

after their bodies touched the marble of the tomb, sometimes even

without approaching it, by swallowing, in wine or water, a small portion

of the earth gathered from around it, the effect being heightened by

strict fasting and prayer,--partly of what were called the "_Grands

Secours_," literally "Great Succors," consisting of the most desperate,

one might say _murderous_, remedies, applied, at their urgent request,

to relieve the sufferings of the Convulsionists. These measures, called

of relief, and carried to an incredible excess, were of such a

character, that, during any normal state of the human system, they would

have destroyed, not one, but a hundred lives, if the patient, or victim,

had been endowed with so many. Those who regarded this marvellous

immunity from what seemed certain immolation as a miraculous

interposition of God were called _Succorists_; their opponents,

ascribing such effects to the interference of the Devil in protection of

his own, or (a somewhat rare opinion in those days) to natural

agency, went by the name of _Anti-Succorists_. (_Secouristes_ and

_Anti-Secouristes_.)

Some of these alleged cures, but more especially some of these so-called

_succors_, were of a nature so far passing belief, that one would be

tempted to cast them aside as sheer impostures, were not the main facts

vouched for by evidence, not from the Jansenists alone, but from their

bitterest opponents, so direct, so overwhelmingly multiplied, so

minutely circumstantial, that to reject it would amount to a virtual

declaration, that, in proof of the extraordinary and the improbable, we

will accept no testimony whatever, let its weight or character be what

it may. Accordingly, we find dispassionate modern writers, medical and

others, while reminding us, as well they may, that enlightened observers

of these strange phenomena were lacking,[3] and while properly

suggesting that we ought to make allowance for exaggeration in some of

the details, yet admitting as incontestable realities the substantial

facts related by the historians of St. Médard.

Among these historians the chief is Carré de Montgéron, a magistrate of

rank and high character, Counsellor of the Parliament of Paris. An

enthusiast, and a weak logician, as hot enthusiasts generally are,

Montgéron's honesty is admitted to be beyond question. Converted to

Jansenism on the seventh of September, 1731, in the church-yard of St.

Médard, by the strange scenes there passing, he expended his fortune,

sacrificed his liberty, and devoted years of his life, in the

preparation and publication of one of the most extraordinary works that

ever issued from the press.[4] It consists of three quarto volumes, of

some nine hundred closely printed pages each. Crowded with repetitions,

and teeming with false reasoning, these volumes nevertheless contain,

backed by certificates without number, such an elaborate aggregation of

concurrent testimony as I think human industry never before brought

together to prove any contested class of phenomena.

Not less zealous, if less voluminous, were the writers opposed to what

was called "the work of the convulsions." Of these one of the chief was

Dom La Taste, Bishop of Bethléem, author of the "Lettres Théologiques,"

and of the "Mémoire Théologique," in both of which the extravagances of

the Convulsionists are severely handled; a second was the Abbé d'Asfeld,

who, in 1738, published his "Vains Efforts des Discernans," in the same

strain; and another, M. Poncet, who put forth an elaborate reply to the

Succorists, entitled "Réponse des Anti-Secouristes à la Réclamation."

The convulsions, commencing in the year 1731, almost immediately assumed

an epidemical character, spreading so rapidly that in a few months the

affected reached the number of eight hundred. These were to be found not

only on the tomb and in the cemetery itself, but in the streets, lanes,

and houses adjoining. Many, after returning from the exciting scenes of

St. Médard, were seized with convulsions in their own dwellings.

The numbers and the excitement went on increasing, and conversions to

Jansenism were counted by thousands; the scenes became daily more

extravagant, and the phenomena more extraordinary, until the King, moved

either by the representations of physicians or by the remonstrances of

Jesuit theologians, caused the cemetery to be closed on the twenty-ninth

of January, 1732.[5]

Not for such interdiction, however, did the phenomena, once in progress,

intermit. For fifteen years, or longer,[6] the symptoms continued, with

more or less violence. Indeed, the number of Convulsionists greatly

increased after the cemetery was closed, extending to those who had no

ailment or bodily infirmity.[7]

The symptoms, though varying in different individuals, were of one

general character, partaking, especially as to the muscular phenomena,

of the nature of hysteria, or hystero-catalepsy. The patient, soon after

being placed on the revered tomb, or on the ground near it, was commonly

attacked by a tumultuous movement of all his members. Contractions

exhibited themselves in the neck, shoulders, and principal muscles all

over the body. The nervous system became dreadfully excited. The heart

beat violently, and the patient, sometimes retaining partial

consciousness and suffering extreme pain, could not restrain violent

cries. He usually experienced, also, a tingling or pricking sensation in

any diseased member. Those who from birth had been afflicted with

paralysis, or partial paralysis, of a limb, or one side of the body,

felt the convulsions chiefly in that limb or side. The convulsions were

often so violent that numerous assistants could scarcely restrain the

patient from seriously injuring himself by dashing his body or limbs

against the marble.[8]

The Demoiselle Fourcroy, alleged to have been suddenly cured, on the

fourteenth of April, 1732, by means of these convulsions, of a confirmed

anchylosis, which had deformed her left foot, and which the physicians

had pronounced incurable,[9] thus describes, in her deposition, her

sensations:--"They caused me to take wine in which was some earth from

the tomb of M. de Pâris, and I immediately engaged in prayer, as the

commencement of a _neuvaine_" (that is, a nine-days' act of devotion).

"Almost at the same moment I was seized with a great shuddering, and

soon after with a violent agitation of the members, which caused my

whole body to jerk into the air, and gave me a force I had never before

possessed,--so that the united strength of several persons present could

scarcely restrain me. After a time, in the course of these violent

convulsive movements, I lost all consciousness. As soon as they passed

off, I recovered my senses, and felt a sensation of tranquillity and

internal peace, such as I had never experienced before."[10]

It was usually at the moment of recovery from these convulsions, as

Montgéron alleges and the certificates published by him declare, that

the cures deemed by him miraculous were effected. Sometimes, however,

these cures were gradual only, extending through several days or weeks.

In Montgéron's work fourteen distinct cures are minutely reported, all

of persons declared by the attendant physicians to be incurable. Each of

these cures, with the documentary evidence in support of it, occupies

from fifty to one hundred pages of his book. The greater number are

cases of paralysis, usually of one entire side of the body, in some

instances complicated with general dropsy, in others with cancer, in

others again with attacks of apoplexy. There are four cases where the

eyesight was restored,--one of them of a lachrymal fistula; one of a

young Spanish nobleman, who suddenly recovered the use of his right eye,

the left, however, remaining uncured; and there is a case in which a

young woman, deaf and dumb from birth, is reported to have been suddenly

and completely cured on the tomb of M. de Pâris, at the moment the

convulsions ceased, immediately repeating, though not understanding, any

word that was spoken to her by the bystanders.

My limits do not permit me to follow Montgéron through the details and

the documentary proof of these cures. That the patient, in each case,

previously examined by some physician of reputation, was pronounced

incurable, does not prove that he was so. Yet, unless Montgéron lie,

some of the cures are inexplicable, upon any received principles of

medical science. One man, (Philippe Sergent,) whose right knee had

shrunk to such a degree that the right leg was, and had been for more

than a year, three finger-breadths shorter than the left, was, according

to the certificates, cured on the spot, threw away his crutches, and

walked home, unaided, followed by a wondering crowd. Another patient,

(Marguerite Thibault,) affected by general dropsy, and whose feet and

legs were swollen to three times their natural size, is reported to have

been cured so suddenly that before she left the tomb her servant could

put on her feet the same slippers she had worn previously to her malady.

This woman had also been afflicted, for three years, with paralysis of

the left side, so complete as to deprive it of all power of motion. Yet

she is stated to have raised herself, unaided, on the tomb, to have

walked from the spot, and even to have ascended the stairs of her house

on her return. The symptom immediately preceding her cure is said to

have been "a beneficent heat, which diffused itself over the entire left

side, so long deadly cold." This was followed by a consciousness of

power to move it; and her first effort was to stretch out her paralytic

arm.[11]

But these cures, wonderful as they appear, are far less marvellous than

another class of phenomena already referred to.

The convulsions were often accompanied by an urgent instinctive desire

for certain extreme remedies, sometimes of a frightful character,--as

stretching the limbs with a violence similar to that of the

rack,--administering on the breast, stomach, or other parts of the body,

hundreds of terrible blows with heavy weapons of wood, iron, or

stone,--pressing with main force against various parts of the body with

sharp-pointed swords,--pressure under enormous weights,--exposure to

excessive heat, etc. Montgéron, viewing the whole as miraculous,

says,--"God frequently causes the convulsionists the most acute pains,

and at the same time intimates to them, by a supernatural instinct, that

the formidable succors which He desires that they should demand will

cause all their sufferings to cease; and these sufferings usually have a

sort of relation to the succors which are to prove a remedy for them.

For instance, an oppression on the breast indicates the necessity for

blows of extreme violence on that part; an excessive cold, or a

devouring heat, when it suddenly seizes a convulsionist, requires that

he should be pushed into the midst of flames; a sharp pang, similar to

that caused by an iron point piercing the flesh, demands a thrust of a

rapier,[12] given in the spot where the pain is felt, be it In the

throat, in the mouth, or in the eyes, of which there are numerous

examples; and let the rapier be pushed as it may, the point, no matter

how sharp, cannot pierce the most tender flesh, not even the eye of the

patient: of this, in my third proposition, I shall adduce proof the most

incontestable."[13]

To _some_ extent, it would seem, the symptoms themselves, attending the

convulsions, appeared, to the observant physician, to warrant the

propriety of the remedy desired. Montgéron copies a report of a case

made to him, and attested by a gentleman of his acquaintance, a

Jansenist, who had persuaded his cousin, Dr. M----, at that time a

distinguished physician of Paris, and much prejudiced against the

Jansenist movement, to accompany him to a house where there was a young

girl subject to the reigning epidemic. They found her in a room with

twenty or thirty persons, and at the moment in convulsions. The

assistants agreed to place the case in the hands of the physician, and

he carefully noted the movements of the patient.

"After a time," proceeds the reporter, "he was greatly astonished to

observe a sudden convulsive retraction of all the members. Examining the

patient closely, touching her breast and limbs, he became aware of a

contraction of the nerves, which gradually reached such a degree of

violence that the whole body was disfigured in a frightful manner. His

surprise was extreme, and it was soon changed to alarm, which induced

him to forget his prejudices, and to resort to the very means he had

previously condemned as useless or dangerous. He caused us to place

ourselves, one at the head and one at each hand and foot, and bade us

pull moderately. We did so.

"'Not enough,' he said, with his hand on the patient's breast;

'stronger!'

"We obeyed.

"'Stronger yet!' he exclaimed.

"We told him we were exerting our entire strength.

"'Two, then, to each limb,' he said.

"It was done, (by the aid of long and very strong pieces of

cloth-listing,) but proved insufficient.

"'Three to each!' he cried; 'the child will die; pull with all your

force! Stronger still!'"

"'We cannot.'"

"'Then four to each!'"

"He was obeyed."

"'Ah, that relieves,' he said; 'the nerves resume their tone; the

symptoms improve. But do not relax the tension.'"

"Then again, after a pause,--"

"'Strong! stronger! The contractions increase. Put all your strength to

it.'"

Ultimately five persons were assigned to each band; and the nearest

aided themselves by bracing their feet against the bed. They continued

their efforts during half an hour, sometimes pulling with all their

strength, sometimes less strongly, as the physician observed the

contraction of the nerves to increase or relax. Finally he ordered the

tension to be gradually diminished, in proportion as the convulsion

passed off.

After a time this convulsion was succeeded by another, causing a sudden

and alarming swelling of the chest. "The girl stood leaning against a

wall, and in that position he caused us, as had been our wont, to press

with force on her chest. This we did, interposing a small cushion

composed of listing. At first, I alone assisted." Then Dr. M---- ordered

three, four, five, ultimately even a greater number of persons, to aid

them. "The convulsion ceased gradually, and in the same proportion he

caused us to diminish the pressure."

"Afterwards the physician, having retired to another room, said to us,

before going away, 'You would be homicides, gentlemen, if you did not

render these succors; for the symptoms require them; and the girl would

die, if you refused them. There is nothing but what is natural in the

relation between her state and these succors.'"[14]

Another example, occurring in 1740, and still more striking, because the

case was that of a girl only three years of age, is given by Montgéron

on the authority (among other witnesses) of Count de Novion, a near

relative of the Duke de Gesvres, Governor of Paris. The Count, having

been present throughout this case, testifies from personal observation.

The child's limbs, as in the previous example, were drawn up by violent

convulsive movements, and the muscles became as it were knotted, causing

extreme pain. The little creature urgently begged that they would draw

her legs and arms. Moderate tension caused no diminution of the pain;

violent tension, administered with fear and trembling, relieved her

immediately. She complained also of acute pain in the breast, which

swelled to an alarming extent. To remove this, nothing proved effectual

but excessive pressure with the knee on the part affected.

After a time, however, some of the Anti-Succorist theologians persuaded

the mother that the succors ought not to be administered,--and even

raised doubts in her mind and in that of the Count, as to whether the

Devil had not some agency in the affair. "Who knows," said the latter,

"if the Arch-Enemy has no part in this?" So they intermitted the succors

for some weeks. During this time the infant gradually sank from day to

day, would scarcely eat or drink, seldom slept, and death seemed

imminent.

The physician, being called in, declared that the only hope was in

resuming the succors, terrible as they appeared, and that, too,

promptly. To the father he said, "If you delay, it will be too late.

While you are trying all your fine experiments with her, your child will

die." They resumed the same violent remedies as before; and the child

was gradually restored to perfect health.[15]

But these examples, whatever we may think of them, are but some of the

most moderate, which Montgéron himself admits to be explicable on

natural principles. He says: "During the first months that the succors

commenced, the power of resistance offered by the convulsionists did not

appear so surprising, and seemed, indeed, to be the effect of an

excessive swelling which was observed in the muscles upon which the

convulsionists requested the blows to be given, and of the violent

agitation of the animal spirits; so that the succors demanded by the

sufferers appeared, in a measure, the natural remedy for the state in

which God had placed them. But when, every day, the violence of the

blows increased, it became evident that the natural force of the muscles

could not equal that of the tremendous strokes which the convulsionists

demanded, in obedience, as they said, to the will of God. And here was

manifested the miracle."[16]

I proceed to give, as an example of one of the more violent succors here

spoken of as miraculous, a narrative, not only vouched for by Montgéron

himself as a witness present, but put forth, in the first instance, by

one of the most violent Anti-Succorists, the Abbé d'Asfeld, in his work

already referred to,--and put forth by him in order to be condemned as a

wicked tempting of Providence,[17] or, worse, an accepting of aid from

the Prince of Darkness himself. It occurred in 1734.

"Here," says the Abbé, "is an example, all the more worthy of attention,

inasmuch as persons of every station and condition, ecclesiastics,

magistrates, ladies of rank, were among the spectators. Jeanne Moler, a

young girl of twenty-two or twenty-three years of age, standing up with

her back resting against a stone wall, an extremely robust man took an

andiron,[18] weighing, as was said, from twenty-five to thirty pounds,

and therewith gave her, with his whole force, numerous blows on the

stomach. They counted upwards of a hundred at a time. One day a certain

friar, after having given her sixty such blows, tried the same weapon

against a wall; and it is said that at the twenty-fifth blow he broke an

opening through it."[19]

Dom La Taste, the great opponent of Jansenism, alluding to the same

circumstance, says, "I do not dispute the fact, that the andiron sunk so

deeply that it appeared to penetrate to the very backbone."[20]

Montgéron, after quoting the above, adds his own testimony, as to this

same occurrence, in these words:--

"As I am not ashamed to confess that I am one of those who have followed

up most closely the work of the convulsions, I freely admit that I am

the person to whom the author alludes, when he speaks of a certain friar

who tried against a wall the effect of blows similar to those he had

given the convulsionist. As this is an occurrence personal to myself, I

trust the reader will perceive the propriety of my presenting to him the

narrative in a more exact and detailed form than that in which it is

given by the author of the 'Vains Efforts.'

"I had begun, as I usually do, by giving the convulsionist very moderate

blows. But after a time, excited by her constant complaints, which left

me no room to doubt that the oppression in the pit of the stomach of

which she complained could be relieved only by violent blows, I

gradually increased the force of mine, employing at last my whole

strength; but in vain. The convulsionist continued to complain that the

blows I gave her were so feeble that they procured her no relief; and

she caused me to put the andiron into the hands of a large and stout man

who happened to be one of the spectators. He kept within no bounds.

Instructed by the trial he had seen me make that nothing could be too

severe, he discharged such terrible blows, always on the pit of the

stomach, as to shake the wall against which the convulsionist was

leaning.

"She caused him to give her one hundred such blows, not reckoning as

anything the sixty I had just administered. She warmly thanked the man

who had procured her such relief, and reproached me for my weakness and

my lack of faith.

"When the hundred blows were completed, I took the andiron, desirous of

trying against the wall itself whether my blows, which she thought so

feeble and complained of so bitterly, really did produce no effect. At

the twenty-fifth stroke the stone against which I struck, and which had

been shaken by the previous blows, was shattered, and the pieces fell

out on the opposite side, leaving an opening of more than six inches

square.

"Now let us observe what were the portions of the body of the

convulsionist on which these fearful blows were dealt. It is true that

they first came in contact with the skin, but they sank immediately to

the back of the patient; their force was not arrested at the surface.

"I insist unnecessarily, perhaps, upon this fact, since all, even our

greatest enemies, admit its truth. But, however incontestable it is, I

conceive that I cannot too strongly prove it to those who have not

themselves witnessed what happened; inasmuch as the principal objection

made by the author of the 'Mémoire Théologique' consists in supposing

that the violence of the most tremendous blows given to convulsionists

is suspended by the Devil, who thus nullifies the effect they would

naturally produce."[21]

Montgéron further says, that "the greatest enemies of these miraculous

succors admitted the fact that such terrible blows, far from producing

the slightest wound, or causing the convulsionist the least suffering,

actually cured the pains of which she complained."[22]

The convulsionist sometimes demanded enormous pressure instead of

violent blows. To this also, the Abbé d'Asfeld testifies. I translate

from his "Vains Efforts."

"Next came the exercise of the platform. It consisted in placing on the

convulsionist, who was stretched on the ground, a board of sufficient

size to cover her entirely; and as many men as could stand upon it

mounted on the board. The convulsionist sustained them all."[23]

Montgéron adds,--"This relation is tolerably exact, and it only remains

for me to observe, that, as they gave each other the hand, for

reciprocal support, most of those who were on the board rested the whole

weight of the body on a single foot. Thus, twenty men at a time often

stood upon the board, and were supported on the body of a young

convulsionist. Now, as most men weigh a hundred and fifty pounds, and

many weigh more, the body of the girl must have sustained a weight of

three thousand pounds, if not sometimes nearly four thousand,--a load

sufficient to crush an ox. Yet, not only was the convulsionist not

oppressed by it, but she often found the pressure insufficient to

correct the swelling which distended her muscles. With what force must

not God have endowed the body of this girl! Since the days of Samson,

was ever seen such a prodigy?"[24]

If these incidents, attested as they are by friend and foe, seem to us

incredible, what shall we say of another, not less strongly attested?

Let us first, as before, take the statement of an adversary. I translate

from the "Mémoire Théologique."

"A convulsionist laid herself on the floor, flat on her back; and a man,

kneeling beside her, and raising a flint stone, weighing upwards of

twenty pounds, as high as he could, after several preliminary trials,

dashed it, with all his force, against the breast of the convulsionist,

giving her one hundred such blows in succession."[25]

To this Montgéron subjoins,--"But the author ought to have added, that,

at each blow, the whole room shook, the floor trembled, and the

spectators could not repress a shudder at the frightful noise which was

heard, as each blow fell on the convulsionist's breast." We need not be

surprised that he adds,--"Not only ought such strokes naturally to

rupture the minute vessels, the delicate glands, the veins and the

arteries of which the breast is composed,--not only ought they, in the

course of Nature, to have crushed and reduced the whole to a bloody

mass,--but they ought to have shattered to pieces the bones and

cartilages by which the breast is inclosed."[26]

This was the view of the case taken by a celebrated physician of the

day. Montgéron tells us:--"This philosopher maintained that the facts

alleged could not be true, because they were physically impossible. He

raised, among other objections, this,--that the flexible, delicate

nature of the skin, of the flesh, and of the viscera, is incompatible

with a force and a consistency so extraordinary as the alleged facts

presuppose; and, consequently, that it was impossible, without ceasing

to be what they are,--without a radical change in their qualities,--that

they should acquire a force superior to that of the hardest and most

solid bodies. They let him quietly complete his anatomical argument, and

set forth all his proofs, and merely answered, 'Come and see; test the

truth of the facts for yourself.' He went. At first sight, he is seized

with astonishment; he doubts the evidence of his eyes; he asks to be

allowed himself to administer the succors. They immediately place in his

hands iron bars of a crushing weight. He does not spare his blows; he

exerts his utmost strength. The weapon sinks into the flesh, seems to

penetrate to the entrails. But the convulsionist only laughs at his idle

efforts. His blows but procure her relief, without leaving the least

impression, the slightest trace, even on the epidermis."[27]

Space fails me to furnish more than a very few additional specimens of

the endless incidents of which the details are scattered by Montgéron

over hundreds of pages,--incidents occurring in various parts of Paris,

daily, for many years. Three or four more of these may suffice for my

present purpose.

A certain Marie Sonnet had made herself so remarkable by the incredible

succors she demanded, that a physician of Paris, Dr. A----, published,

in regard to her case, a satirical letter addressed to M. de Montgéron,

in which, after attacking the girl's moral character, be assumed this

strange position: "It is a sentiment universally established, that it is

in the power of the Devil, when God permits, to communicate to man

forces above those of Nature. Nor must it be said that God never permits

this; the case of the girl Sonnet is unanswerable proof to the

contrary."[28]

Among the incidents which appear to have led to this opinion one is thus

stated by him:--"They let fall upon her stomach, from the height of the

ceiling, a stone weighing fifty pounds, while her body, bent back like a

bow, was supported on the point of a sharpened stake, placed just under

the spine; yet, far from being crushed by the stone, or pierced by the

stake, it was a relief to her."[29]

Montgéron supplies further particulars of this case. He says:--"It was

not once, it was a hundred times in succession, and that daily repeated,

that this flint stone was raised by main force, by the aid of a pulley,

to the ceiling of the room, and thence suddenly let fall on the stomach

of the patient. This stone weighed, it is true, fifty pounds only; but,

descending from a great height, its effect was immensely increased by

the momentum it acquired in falling, as soon as the cord was detached by

which it was suspended in the air.' And, in truth, the ribs of the

convulsionist bent under the terrible shock, sinking under the weight

till her stomach and bowels were so completely flattened that the stone

seemed wholly to displace them. Yet she received no injury whatever, but

was relieved, as Dr. A---- himself admits. He confesses, also, that the

body of the convulsionist was bent back so that the head and feet

touched the floor, and was supported only on the sharp point of a stake

right under her reins, and placed perpendicularly beneath the spot where

the stone was to fall. The weight of the stone in falling was,

therefore, arrested only by the point of this stake, the body of the

convulsionist being between them, so that the entire force of the blow

was concentrated opposite that point.... The stake appeared to penetrate

to a certain depth into the body, yet neither the skin nor the flesh

received the slightest injury, nor did the convulsionist experience any

pain whatever."[30]

This same Marie Sonnet exposed herself to terrible tests by fire. A

certificate in regard to this matter, signed by eleven persons, of whom

one was an English lord, one a Doctor of Theology in the Sorbonne, and

another the brother of Voltaire, Armand Arouet, Treasurer of the Chamber

of Accounts, is given by Montgéron, and I here translate it:--

"We, the undersigned, certify, that this day, between eight and ten

o'clock, P.M., Marie Sonnet, being in convulsion, was placed, her head

resting on one stool and her feet on another, these stools being

entirely within a large chimney and under the opening of the same, so

that her body was suspended in the air above the fire, which was of

extreme violence, and that she remained in that position for the space

of thirty-six minutes, at four different times; yet the cloth [_drap_]

in which she was wrapped (she having no other dress) was not burned,

though the flames sometimes passed above it: all which appears to us

entirely supernatural. In testimony whereof, we have signed our names,

this twelfth of May, 1736."

To this certificate, which was afterwards legally recorded, a postscript

is appended, stating, that, while they were writing out the certificate,

Marie placed herself a fifth time over the fire, as before, remaining

there nine minutes; that she appeared to sleep, though the fire was

excessively hot; fifteen logs of wood, besides fagots, having been

consumed in the two hours and a quarter during which the witnesses

remained.

Montgéron adds, that this exhibition has been witnessed at least a

hundred times, and by a multitude of persons. And he expressly states,

that the stools, which consisted of iron frames, with a board upon each,

were placed entirely within the fireplace, and one on each side of the

fire; so that, as Marie Sonnet rested her head on one stool and her feet

on the other, her body remained suspended immediately above the fire;

and further, that, "no matter how intense the heat, not only did she

suffer no inconvenience, but the cloth in which she was wrapped was

never injured, nor even singed, though it was sometimes actually in the

flames."[31]

He declares, also, that Marie, on other occasions, remained over the

fire much longer than is above certified. The author of the "Vains

Efforts" admits that "she remained exposed to the fire long enough to

roast a piece of mutton or veal."

Montgéron informs us, in addition, that Marie Sonnet sometimes varied

the form of this experiment, with a somewhat varying result. He

says,--"I have seen her five or six times, and in the presence of a

multitude of persons, thrust both her feet, with shoes and stockings on,

into the midst of a burning brazier; but in this case the fire did not

respect the shoes, as, in the other, it had respected the cloth that

enwrapped her. The shoes caught fire, and the soles were reduced to

ashes, but without the convulsionist experiencing pain in her feet,

which she continued to keep for a considerable time in the fire. Once I

had the curiosity to examine the soles of her stockings, in order to

ascertain if they, too, were burnt. As soon as I touched them they

crumbled to powder, so that the sole of the foot remained bare."[32]

Dr. A----, in the letter already alluded to, which he published against

this girl, admits, that, "while in the midst of flames, or stretched

over a burning brazier, she received no injury whatever."[33]

M. Poncet, whom I have elsewhere mentioned as one of the chief writers

against the Succorists, admits the following:--

"This convulsionist [Gabrielle Moler] placed herself on her knees before

a large fire full of burning coals all in flame. Then, a person being

seated behind her, and holding her by a band, she plunged her head into

the flames, which closed over it; then, being drawn back, she repeated

the same, continuing it with a regular alternate movement. She has been

seen thus to throw herself on the fire six hundred times in succession.

Usually she wore a bonnet, but sometimes not; and when she did wear one,

the top of the bonnet was occasionally burned."[34] Montgéron adds, "but

her hair never."[35]

Gabrielle was the first who (in 1736) demanded what was called the

_succor of the swords_. Montgéron says,--"She was prompted by the

supernatural instinct which guided her to select the strongest and

sharpest sword she could find among those worn by the spectators. Then

setting herself with her back against a wall, she placed the point of

the sword just above her stomach, and called upon him who seemed the

strongest man to push it with all his force; and though the sword bent

into the form of a bow from the violence with which it was pushed, so

that they had to press against the middle of the blade to keep it

straight, still the convulsionist cried out, 'Stronger! stronger!' After

a time she applied the point of the sword to her throat, and required it

to be pushed with the same violence as before. The point caused the skin

to sink into the throat to the depth of four finger-breadths, but it

never pierced the flesh, let them push as violently as they would.

Nevertheless, the point of the sword seemed to attach itself to the

skin; for, when drawn back, it drew the skin with it, and left a

trifling redness, such as would be caused by the prick of a pin. For the

rest, the convulsionist suffered no pain whatever."[36]

Similar is the testimony of an Advocate of the Parliament of Paris,

extracts from whose certificate in regard to the succors rendered to the

Sister Madeleine are given by Montgéron. Here is one of these:--

"One day, extended on the ground, she caused a spit to be placed

upright, with the point on her bare throat. Then a stout man mounted on

a chair, and suspended his whole body from the head of the spit,

pressing with all his force, as if to transfix the throat and pierce the

floor beneath. But the flesh merely sank in with the point of the spit,

without being in the least injured.

"Another day, she placed the point of a very sharp sword against the

hollow of the throat, just below the epiglottis, and, standing with her

back against the wall, called on them to push the sword. A vigorous man

did so, till the blade bent, though not so much as to form a complete

arc. The point sank into the flesh about an inch. I was curious to

measure the exact depth, and found that the flesh rose so far around the

sword-point that I could sink a finger in beyond the first joint. She

received this succor twice. The sword was one of the sharpest I have

ever seen. We tried it against a portfolio containing the paper intended

for the minutes which on such occasions I always make out. It perforated

the pasteboard and a considerable part of the papers within."[37]

The Sister Madeleine carried her temerity in this matter still farther.

Here is a portion of the certificate of an ecclesiastic, for whose

uprightness and truthfulness Montgéron vouches in strong terms, and who

relates what he alleges he saw on the thirty-first of May, 1744.

"Madeleine caused them to hold two swords in the air horizontally. She

herself placed the point of one in the inner corner of the right eye,

and of the other in the inner corner of the left, and then called out to

those who held the swords, 'In the name of the Father, push!' They did

so with all their force; and I confess that I shuddered from head to

foot.... A second time Madeleine caused them to set two swords against

the pupils of her eyes, and to press them strongly, as before. This time

I took especial notice of the part of the sword that was on a level with

the surface of the eye when the pressure was the strongest, and I

perceived that the point had penetrated a good inch into the pupil."[38]

The Chaplain in Ordinary of the King, under date of the fourth of

October, 1744, testifies to confirmatory facts. He says,--"I have seen

them push sword-points against the eyes of Sisters Madeleine and

Félicité, sometimes on the pupil, sometimes in the corner of the eye,

sometimes on the eyelid,--with such force as to cause the eyeball to

project, till the spectators shuddered."[39]

Another officer of the royal household gives a certificate of succors

administered to this same Madeleine, of a character scarcely less

wonderful, with pointed spits, of which two were broken against her

body.

This officer certifies, also, that, on one occasion, when pushing a

sharp sword against Madeleine, not being able to push strongly enough

to satisfy her, he placed a book bound in parchment on his own breast,

placed the hilt of his sword against it, and pressed with so much force

that the cover of the book was quite spoiled by the deep indentation

made by the sword-hilt. He adds,--"The instinct of her convulsion caused

her sometimes to demand as many as twenty-two swords at a time. These

were placed, some in front, some against her back, some against her

sides, in every direction. I myself never saw quite so many employed;

but I was present, and was myself assisting, when eighteen swords were

pushed at once against various parts of her body. Although the force

with which this prodigious succor was administered caused deep

indentations in the flesh, she never received the slightest wound. It

often happened that her convulsions caused the flesh to react under the

pressure of the sword-points, so as forcibly to push back the

assistants."[40]

The Advocate of the Parliament of Paris, already mentioned, certifies to

the same phenomenon. His words are,--"One can feel, under the

sword-point, a movement of the flesh, which, from time to time, thrusts

back the sword. This occurs the most strongly when the succor is nearly

at an end. The convulsionist calls out, 'Enough!' as soon as the pains

are relieved."[41]

The same Advocate states, that sometimes the convulsionist threw the

weight of her body on the swords, the hilts resting on the floor, and

being secured from slipping. He speaks of one case in which, "while she

was balancing herself on the points of several swords upon which she had

thrown herself with all her weight, [_où elle se jettoit à corps

perdû_,] one of them broke."[42]

The officer of the king's household already spoken of testifies to a

similar fact. A certain Sister Dina, he says, caused six swords thus to

break against her body. He adds, that he himself broke the blade of a

sword while thrusting against her; and that he saw two others broken in

the same way.[43]

In regard to what Montgéron considers the exacting instinct, the same

officer says,--"I had the curiosity to ask Sister Madeleine, in her

natural state, what was the sort of suffering which caused her to have

recourse to such astonishing succors. She replied, that the pain she

suffered was the same as if swords were actually piercing her; that she

felt relieved of this pain as soon as the sword-points penetrated to her

skin, and quite cured when the assistants put their whole force to it.

She laughed when the swords pierced her dress, saying, 'I feel the

points on my skin. That relieves. That does me good.'"[44]

Both the Advocate of Parliament and the ecclesiastic from whose

certificates I have quoted testify that the convulsionists were

repeatedly undressed and examined by a committee of their own sex,

consisting in part of incredulous ladies of fashion, to ascertain that

they had nothing concealed under their clothes to resist the

sword-points. But in every case it was ascertained that they wore but

the ordinary articles of under-clothing. The Sister Dina was examined in

this way; and it was ascertained that she had nothing under her gown

except a chemise and a simple linen stomacher. Her clothing was found

pierced in many places, but the flesh wholly uninjured.[45]

Although throughout the writings of the Anti-Succorists there are

constant denunciations of these succors as flagrant and wicked temptings

of Providence, yet I do not find therein any allegation that serious

injury was ever sustained by any of the patients. Montgéron himself,

however, admits, that, on one occasion, a wound was received. He tells

us that a certain convulsionist long resisted the instinct which bade

her demand the succor of a triangular-bladed sword against the left

breast, fearing the result. At last, however, the pain became so intense

that she was fain to consent. For the first seven or eight minutes the

sword-point only indented the flesh, as usual. But then, says Montgéron,

"her faith suddenly failing her, she cried out, 'Ah! you will kill me!'

No sooner had she pronounced the words than the sword pierced the flesh,

making a wound two inches in depth." He alleges, further, that the

instinct of the convulsionist informed her that the wound would have no

bad consequences, and could be cured by severe blows of a club on the

same spot; which, he declares, happened accordingly.[46]

Besides the incidents above related, and a hundred others of similar

character, which, if time and the reader's patience permitted, I might

cull from Montgéron's pages, the restless enthusiasm of the

convulsionists ultimately betrayed them into extravagances, in which it

is often hard to decide whether the grotesque or the horrible more

predominated. One convulsionist descended the long stairs of an

infirmary head-foremost, lying on her back; another caused herself to be

attached, by a rope round her neck, to a hook in the wall. A third

repeated her prayers while turning somersets. A fourth, suspended by the

feet, with the head hanging down, remained in that position

three-quarters of an hour. A fifth, lying down on a tomb, caused herself

to be covered to the neck with baked earth mixed with sand and saturated

with vinegar. A sixth made her bed, in winter, on billets of wood; a

seventh on bars of iron. The Sister Félicité was in the habit of causing

herself to be nailed to the cross, and of remaining there half an hour

at a time, gayly conversing with the pious who surrounded her.[47]

Another sister, named Scholastique, after long hesitation between

different modes of mortification, having one day remarked the manner in

which they constructed the pavement of the streets, had her dress

tightly fastened below the knee, and then ordered one of the assistants

to take her by the legs, and, with her head downward, to dash it

repeatedly against the tiled floor, after the fashion of paviors, when

using a rammer.

"If," says Calmeil, "the idea had chanced to suggest itself to one of

these theomaniacs, that disembowelling alive would be a sacrifice

pleasing to the Supreme Being, she would undoubtedly have insisted upon

being subjected to such a martyrdom."[48]

The mental and physiological phenomena connected with this epidemic

remain to be noticed, together with the theories and suggestions put

forth by medical and other contemporary writers, in explanation of what

has here been sketched, the substance of which is usually admitted by

these commentators, however incredible, when related at this distance of

time, it may appear. Next month the subject will be continued.

* * * * *

The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 13, No. 76, February, 1864 A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics · 第 26 / 36 题