VAMPIRE BELIEF IN RUSSIA
The Slavonic belief in vampires is one of the characteristic features of
their creed.
The Little Russians hold that, if the vampire’s hands have grown numb
from remaining long crossed in the grave, he makes use of his teeth,
which are like steel. When he has gnawed his way with these through
all obstacles, he first destroys the babies he finds in a house, and
afterwards the older inmates. If fine salt be scattered on the floor of
a room, the vampire’s footsteps may be traced to his grave, in which he
will be found resting with rosy cheek and gory mouth.
The Kashoubes say that when a _vieszcy_, as they call a vampire, wakes
from his sleep within the grave he begins to gnaw his hands and feet, and
as he gnaws, first his relatives, and then his neighbours, sicken and
die. When he has finished his own store of flesh, he rises at midnight
and destroys cattle or climbs a belfry and sounds the bell. All who hear
the ill-omened tones will soon die. Generally he sucks the blood of
sleepers.
Ralston, in his _Songs of the Russian People_, says that it is in
the Ukraine and in White Russia—so far as the Russian Empire is
concerned—that traditions are most rife about this ghastly creation of
morbid fancy, and that the Little Russians attribute the birth of a
vampire to an unholy union between a witch and a werwolf or a devil.
He relates the following as a specimen of the vampire stories prevalent
in the country:—
“A peasant was driving past a graveyard after it had grown dark. After
him came running a stranger, dressed in a red shirt and a new jacket, who
said: ‘Stop! Take me as your companion.’
“‘Pray take a seat.’
“They enter a village, drive up to this and that house. Though the gates
are wide open, yet the stranger says, ‘Shut tight!’ for on those gates
crosses have been branded. They drive on to the very last house: the
gates are barred, and from them hangs a padlock weighing a score of
pounds; but there is no cross there, and the gates open of their own
accord.
“They go into the house: there on the bench lie two sleepers—an old man
and a lad. The stranger takes a pail, places it near the youth, and
strikes him on the back; immediately the back opens, and forth flows
rosy blood. The stranger fills the pail full and drinks it dry. Then he
fills another pail with blood from the old man, slakes his brutal thirst,
and says to the peasant: ‘It begins to grow light! Let us go back to my
dwelling.’
“In a twinkling they find themselves at the graveyard. The vampire would
have clasped the peasant in his arms, but luckily for him the cocks begin
to crow, and the corpse disappears. The next morning, when folks come and
look, the old man and the lad are dead.”
According to the Servians and Bulgarians, unclean spirits enter into
the corpses of malefactors and other evilly disposed persons, who then
become vampires. In some places the jumping of a boy over the corpse is
considered as fatal as that of a cat.
There is a story told of a mother who lived in Saratof who cursed her
son, and his body remained free from corruption after burial for a
hundred years. When it was disinterred, his aged mother, who is said to
have been still alive, pronounced his pardon, and, at that very moment,
the corpse crumbled into dust.
The Russians say that, when driving a stake into the body of a vampire,
this must be done by one single blow, as a second blow will reanimate the
corpse.
One group of Russian stories relate to the sudden resuscitation shortly
after death of wizards and witches at midnight possessed with the longing
to eat the flesh of the watchers around the bier. The stories go that
the body of the suspected witch was generally enclosed in a coffin which
was secured with iron bands and carried to the church, and a watcher was
appointed to read aloud from the Scriptures over the coffin right through
each night until burial. It was also the duty of the watcher to draw on
the floor a magic circle, within which he must stand and hold in his hand
a hammer, the ancient weapon of the thunder-god. If the suspicion that
the individual was a wizard or witch was a correct one, a mighty wind
would arise one night about twelve o’clock, the iron bands of the coffin
would give way with a terrible crash, the coffin-lid fall off, and the
corpse leap forth and, uttering a terrible screech, rush at the watcher,
who, if he had not taken the prescribed precautions, would fall a victim
to the monster, and in the morning there would be nothing left of him but
his bare bones. The following story of this character is contained in the
records of the Kharkof government:—
“Once, in the days of old, there died a terrible sinner. His body was
taken into the church, and the sacristan was told to read some psalms
over him. He took the precaution to catch a cock and carry it with him to
the church. At midnight the dead man leaped from his coffin, opened wide
his jaws, and rushed at his victim; but, at that moment, the sacristan
gave the bird a hard pinch. The cock uttered his usual crow, and at the
same moment the dead man fell backwards to the ground a numb, motionless
corpse.”
The following story is also given by Ralston in his collection of Russian
folk-stories:—
_The Coffin Lid_
“A moujik was driving along one night with a load of pots. His horse
grew tired, and all of a sudden it came to a standstill alongside of a
graveyard. The moujik unharnessed his horse and set it free to graze;
meanwhile he laid himself down on one of the graves. But somehow he
didn’t go to sleep.
“He remained there some time. Suddenly the grave began to open beneath
him; he felt the movement and sprang to his feet. The grave having
opened, out of it came a corpse, wrapped in a white shroud, and holding
a coffin lid. He ran to the church, laid the coffin lid at the door, and
then set off for the village.
“The moujik was a daring fellow. He picked up the coffin lid and remained
standing beside his cart, waiting to see what would happen. After a short
delay the dead man came back, and was going to snatch up his coffin
lid—but it was not to be seen. Then the corpse began to track it out,
traced it up to the moujik, and said: ‘Give me my lid; if you don’t, I’ll
tear you to bits!’
“‘And my hatchet—how about that?’ answered the moujik. ‘Why, it’s I
who’ll be chopping you into small pieces!’
“‘Do give it back to me, good man!’ begs the corpse.
“‘I’ll give it when you tell me where you’ve been and what you’ve done.’
“‘Well, I’ve been in the village, and there I’ve killed a couple of
youngsters.’
“‘Well, then, tell me how they can be brought back to life.’
“The corpse reluctantly made answer: ‘Cut off the left skirt of my
shroud. Take it with you, and when you come into the house where the
youngsters were killed, pour some live coals into a pot and put the piece
of the shroud in with them, and then lock the door. The lads will be
revived by the smoke immediately.’
“The moujik cut off the left skirt of the shroud and gave up the coffin
lid. The corpse went to its grave—the grave opened. But just as the dead
man was descending into it, all of a sudden the cocks began to crow, and
he had not time to get properly covered over. One end of the coffin lid
remained standing out of the ground.
“The moujik saw all this and made a note of it. The day began to dawn;
he harnessed his horse and drove into the village. In one of the houses
he heard cries and wailing. In he went—there lay two dead lads.
“‘Don’t cry,’ said he; ‘I can bring them to life.’
“‘Do bring them to life, kinsman,’ said their relatives. ‘We’ll give you
half of all we possess.’
“The moujik did everything as the corpse had instructed him, and the lads
came back to life. Their relatives were delighted, but they immediately
seized the moujik and bound him with cords, saying: ‘No, no, trickster!
We’ll hand you over to the authorities. Since you know how to bring them
back to life, maybe it was you who killed them!’
“‘What are you thinking about, true believers? Have the fear of God
before your eyes!’ cried the moujik.
“Then he told them everything that had happened to him during the night.
Well, they spread the news through the village, and the whole population
assembled and stormed into the graveyard. They found the grave from which
the dead man had come out; they tore it open, and they drove an aspen
stake right into the heart of the corpse, so that it might no more rise
up and slay. But they rewarded the moujik handsomely, and sent him home
with great honour.”
_The Soldier and the Vampire_
“A certain soldier was allowed to go home on furlough. Well, he walked
and walked and walked, and after a time he began to draw near to his
native village. Not far off from that village lived a miller in his mill.
In old times, the soldier had been very intimate with him: why shouldn’t
he go and see his friend? He went. The miller received him cordially, and
at once brought out liquor; and the two began drinking and chattering
about their ways and doings. All this took place towards nightfall, and
the soldier stopped so long at the miller’s that it grew quite dark.
“When he proposed to start for his village, his host exclaimed: ‘Spend
the night here, trooper; it is very late now, and perhaps you may run
into mischief.’
“‘How so?’
“‘God is punishing us! A terrible warlock has died among us, and by
night he rises from his grave, wanders through the village, and does such
things as bring fear upon the very bailiffs; and so how could you help
being afraid of him?’
“‘Not a bit of it! A soldier is a man who belongs to the Crown, and Crown
property cannot be drowned in water or burned in fire. I will be off. I
am tremendously anxious to see my people as soon as possible.’
“Off he set. His road lay in front of a graveyard. On one of the graves
he saw a great fire blazing. What is that? Then he said: ‘Let’s have a
look.’ When he drew near, he saw that the warlock was sitting at the
fire, sewing boots.
“‘Hail, brother!’ calls out the soldier.
“The warlock looked up and said: ‘What have you come here for?’
“‘Why, I wanted to see what you were doing.’
“The warlock threw his work aside and invited the soldier to a wedding.
“‘Come along, brother,’ says he; ‘let’s enjoy ourselves. There is a
wedding going on in the village.’
“‘Come along,’ says the soldier.
“They came to where the wedding was; they were given drink, and treated
with the utmost hospitality. The warlock drank and drank, revelled and
revelled, and then grew angry. He chased all the guests and relatives
out of the house, threw the wedded pair into a slumber, took out two
phials and an awl, pierced the hands of the bride and bridegroom with the
awl, and began drawing off their blood. Having done this, he said to the
soldier: ‘Now, let’s be off.’
“Accordingly, they went off. On the way the soldier said: ‘Tell me, why
did you draw off their blood in those phials?’
“‘Why, in order that the bride and bridegroom might die. To-morrow
morning no one will be able to wake them. I alone know how to bring them
back to life.’
“‘How’s that managed?’
“‘The bride and bridegroom must have cuts made in their heels, and some
of their blood must then be poured back into these wounds. I’ve got the
bridegroom’s blood stowed away in my right-hand pocket, and the bride’s
in my left.’
“The soldier listened to this without letting a single word escape him.
Then the warlock began boasting again.
“‘Whatever I wish,’ says he, ‘that I can do.’
“‘I suppose it’s quite impossible to get the better of you,’ says the
soldier.
“‘Impossible? If anyone were to make a pyre of aspen boughs, a hundred
loads of them, and were to burn me on that pyre, then he’d be able to get
the better of me. Only he’d have to look sharp in burning me, for snakes
and worms and different kinds of reptiles would creep out of my inside,
and crows and magpies and jackdaws would come flying up. All these must
be caught and flung on the pyre. If so much as a single maggot were to
escape, then there’d be no help for it. In that maggot I should slip
away.’
“The soldier listened to all this and did not forget it. He and the
warlock talked and talked, and at last they arrived at the grave.
“‘Well, brother,’ said the warlock, ‘now I’ll tear you to pieces,
otherwise you’ll be telling all this.’
“‘What are you talking about? Don’t you deceive yourself, for I serve God
and the Empire.’
“The warlock gnashed his teeth, howled aloud, and sprang at the soldier,
who drew his sword and began laying about him with sweeping blows.
They struggled and struggled; the soldier was all but at the end of
his strength. ‘Ah,’ thinks he, ‘I’m a lost man, and all for nothing!’
Suddenly the cocks began to crow. The warlock fell lifeless to the ground.
“The soldier took the phials of blood out of the warlock’s pockets, and
went to the house of his own people. When he had got there and exchanged
greetings with his relatives, they said: ‘Did you see any disturbance,
soldier?’
“‘No, I saw none.’
“‘There, now! Why, we’ve a terrible piece of work going on in the
village. A warlock has taken to haunting it.’
“After talking a while they lay down to sleep. The next morning the
soldier awoke and began asking: ‘I’m told you’ve got a wedding going on
somewhere here.’
“‘There was a wedding in the house of a rich moujik,’ replied his
relatives, ‘but the bridegroom has died this very night—what from nobody
knows.’
“‘Where does this moujik live?’
“They showed him the house. Thither he went without speaking a word.
When he got there he found the whole family in tears.
“‘What are you mourning about?’ says he.
“‘Such and such is the state of things, soldier,’ say they.
“‘I can bring your young people to life again. What will you give me if I
do?’
“‘Take what you like, even were it half of what we have got.’
“The soldier did as the warlock had instructed him, and brought the young
people back to life. Instead of weeping there began to be happiness
and rejoicing: the soldier was hospitably treated and well rewarded.
Then—left about face! Off he marched to Starosta and told the burgomaster
to call the peasants together and to get ready a hundred loads of aspen
wood. Well, they took the wood into the graveyard, dragged the warlock
out of his grave, placed him on the pyre, and set it in flames. The
warlock began to burn. His corpse burst, and out of it came snakes,
worms, and all kinds of reptiles, and up came flying crows, magpies, and
jackdaws. The peasants knocked them down and flung them into the fire,
not allowing so much as a single maggot to creep away! And so the warlock
was thoroughly consumed, and the soldier collected his ashes and strewed
them to the winds. From that time there was peace in the village.
“The soldier received the thanks of the whole community.”
In Russian folk-lore there is a class of demons known as “heart
devourers,” who touch their victim with an aspen or other twig credited
with magical properties; the heart then falls out and may be replaced by
some baser one. There is a Moscovian story in which a hero awakes with
the heart of a hare, the work of a demon while the man was asleep. He
remained a coward for the rest of his life. In another instance a very
quiet, reserved, inoffensive peasant received a cock’s heart in exchange
for his own, and afterwards was for ever crowing like a healthy bird.
The following is taken from the _Lettres Juives_ of 1738:—
“In the beginning of September there died in the village of Kisilova,
three leagues from Graditz, an old man who was sixty-two years of age.
Three days after he had been buried, he appeared in the night to his
son, and asked him for something to eat; the son having given him
something, he ate and disappeared. The next day the son recounted to his
neighbours what had happened. That night the father did not appear, but
the following night he showed himself and asked for something to eat.
They know not whether the son gave him anything or not; but the next day
he was found dead in his bed. On the same day, five or six persons fell
suddenly ill in the village, and died one after the other in a few days.
“The officer or bailiff of the place, when informed of what had happened,
sent an account of it to the tribunal of Belgrade, which despatched to
the village two of these officers and an executioner to examine into this
affair. The imperial officer from whom we have this account repaired
thither from Graditz to be a witness of what took place.
“They opened the graves of those who had been dead six weeks. When they
came to that of the old man, they found him with his eyes open, having a
fine colour, with natural respiration, nevertheless motionless as the
dead: whence they concluded that he was most undoubtedly a vampire. The
executioner drove a stake into his heart; they then raised a pile and
reduced the corpse to ashes. No mark of vampirism was found either on the
corpse of the son or on the others.”
The following story is told by Madame Blavatsky in _Isis Unveiled_, who
states that she had the account from an eye-witness of the occurrence:—
“About the beginning of the nineteenth century there occurred in Russia
one of the most frightful cases of vampirism on record. The governor of
the province of Tch—— was a man of about sixty years of age, of a cruel
and jealous disposition. Clothed with despotic authority, he exercised
it without stint, as his brutal instincts prompted. He fell in love with
the pretty daughter of a subordinate officer. Although the girl was
betrothed to a young man whom she loved, the tyrant forced her father to
consent to his having her marry him; and the poor victim, despite her
despair, became his wife. His jealous disposition soon exhibited itself.
He beat her, confined her to her room for weeks together, and prevented
her seeing anyone except in his presence. He finally fell sick and died.
Finding his end approaching, he made her swear never to marry again, and
with fearful oaths threatened that in case she did he would return from
his grave and kill her. He was buried in the cemetery across the river,
and the young widow experienced no further annoyance until, getting the
better of her fears, she listened to the importunities of her former
lover, and they were again betrothed.
“On the night of the customary betrothal feast, when all had retired,
the old mansion was aroused by shrieks proceeding from her room. The
doors were burst open, and the unhappy woman was found lying on her bed
in a swoon. At the same time a carriage was heard rumbling out of the
courtyard. Her body was found to be black and blue in places, as from
the effect of pinches, and from a slight puncture in her neck drops
of blood were oozing. Upon recovering, she stated that her deceased
husband had suddenly entered her room, appearing exactly as in life, with
the exception of a dreadful pallor; that he had upbraided her for her
inconstancy, and then beaten and pinched her most cruelly. Her story was
disbelieved; but the next morning the guard stationed at the other end
of the bridge which spans the river reported that just before midnight
a black coach-and-six had driven furiously past without answering their
challenge.
“The new governor, who disbelieved the story of the apparition, took
nevertheless the precaution of doubling the guards across the bridge. The
same thing happened, however, night after night, the soldiers declaring
that the toll-bar at their station near the bridge would rise of itself,
and the spectral equipage would sweep past them, despite their efforts to
stop it. At the same time every night the watchers, including the widow’s
family and the servants, would be thrown into a heavy sleep; and every
morning the young victim would be found bruised, bleeding, and swooning
as before. The town was thrown into consternation. The physicians had no
explanations to offer; priests came to pass the night in prayer, but as
midnight approached, all would be seized with the same terrible lethargy.
Finally the archbishop of the province came and performed the ceremony
of exorcism in person. On the following morning the governor’s widow was
found worse than ever. She was now brought to death’s door.
“The governor was finally driven to take the severest measures to stop
the ever-increasing panic in the town. He stationed fifty Cossacks along
the bridge, with orders to stop the spectral carriage at all hazards.
Promptly at the usual hour it was heard and seen approaching from the
direction of the cemetery. The officer of the guard and a priest bearing
a crucifix planted themselves in front of the toll-bar and together
shouted: ‘In the name of God and the Czar, who goes there?’ Out of the
coach was thrust a well-remembered head, and a familiar voice responded:
‘The Privy Councillor of State and Governor C——!’ At the same moment the
officer, the priest, and the soldiers were flung aside, as by an electric
shock, and the ghostly equipage passed them before they could recover
breath.
“The archbishop then resolved as a last expedient to resort to the
time-honoured plan of exhuming the body and driving an oaken stake
through its heart. This was done with great religious ceremony in the
presence of the whole populace. The story is that the body was found
gorged with blood, and with red cheeks and lips. At the instant that the
first blow was struck upon the stake a groan issued from the corpse and
a jet of blood spouted high into the air. The archbishop pronounced the
usual exorcism, the body was reinterred, and from that time no more was
heard of the vampire.”