The belief seems to have been universal, not only that the blood is
the life of the organism in which it originally flows, but that in its
transfer from one organism to another the blood retains its life, and
so carries with it a vivifying power. There are traces of this belief
in the earliest legends of the Old World, and of the New; in classic
story; and in medical practices as well, all the world over, from time
immemorial until the present day.
For example, in an inscription from the Egyptian monuments, the
original of which dates back to the early days of Moses, there is a
reference to a then ancient legend of the rebellion of mankind against
the gods; of an edict of destruction against the human race; and of a
divine interposition for the rescue of the doomed peoples.[222] In that
legend, a prominent part is given to human blood, mingled with the
juice of mandrakes[223]--instead of wine--prepared as a drink of the
gods, and afterwards poured out again to overflow and to revivify all
the earth. And the ancient text which records this legend, affirms that
it was in conjunction with these events, that there was the beginning
of sacrifices in the world.
An early American legend has points of remarkable correspondence
with this one from ancient Egypt. It relates, as does that, to a
pre-historic destruction of the race, and to its re-creation, or its
re-vivifying, by means of transferred blood. Every Mexican province
told this story in its own way, says a historian; but the main
features of it are alike in all its versions.
When there were no more men remaining on the earth, some of the gods
desired the re-creation of mankind; and they asked help from the
supreme deities accordingly. They were then told, that if they were to
obtain the bones, or the ashes of the former race, they could revivify
those remains by their own blood. Thereupon Xolotl, one of the gods,
descended to the place of the dead, and obtained a bone (whether a
_rib_, or not, does not appear). Upon that vestige of humanity, the
gods dropped blood drawn from their own bodies; and the result was a
new vivifying of mankind.[224]
An ancient Chaldean legend, as recorded by Berosus, ascribes a new
creation of mankind to the mixture by the gods of the dust of the earth
with the blood that flowed from the severed head of the god Belus.
“On this account it is that men are rational, and partake of divine
knowledge,” says Berosus.[225] The blood of the god gives them the
life and the nature of a god. Yet, again, the early Phœnician, and
the early Greek, theogonies, as recorded by Sanchoniathon[226] and by
Hesiod,[227] ascribe the vivifying of mankind to the outpoured blood
of the gods. It was from the blood of Ouranos, or of Saturn, dripping
into the sea and mingling with its foam, that Venus was formed, to
become the mother of her heroic posterity. “The Orphics, which have
borrowed so largely from the East,” says Lenormant,[228] “said that the
immaterial part of man, his soul [his life], sprang from the blood of
Dionysus Zagreus, whom ... Titans had torn to pieces, partly devouring
his members.”
Homer explicitly recognizes this universal belief in the power of blood
to convey life, and to be a means of revivifying the dead. When Circé
sent Odysseus,
“To consult
The Theban seer, Tiresias, in the abode
Of Pluto and the dreaded Proserpine.”
she directed him, in preparation, to
“Pour to all the dead
Libations,--milk and honey first, and next
Rich wine, and lastly water;”
and after that to slay the sacrificial sheep. But Circé’s caution was:
“Draw then the sword upon thy thigh, and sit,
And suffer none of all those airy forms
To touch the blood, until thou first bespeak
Tiresias. He will come, and speedily,--
The leader of the people,--and will tell
What voyage thou must make.”
Odysseus did as he was directed. The bloodless shades flocked about
him, as he sat there guarding the life-renewing blood; but even those
dearest to him, he forbade to touch that consecrated draught.
“And then the soul of Anticleia came,--
My own dead mother, daughter of the king
Autolycus, large minded. Her I left
Alive, what time I sailed for Troy, and now
I wept to see her there, and pitied her,
And yet forbade her, though with grief, to come
Near to the blood till I should first accost
Tiresias. He too came, the Theban seer,
Tiresias, bearing in his hand a wand
Of gold; he knew me and bespake me thus:--
‘Why, O unhappy mortal, hast thou left
The light of day to come among the dead,
And to this joyless land? Go from the trench
And turn thy sword away, that I may drink
The blood, and speak the word of prophecy.’
He spake; withdrawing from the trench, I thrust
Into its sheath my silver-studded sword,
And, after drinking of the dark red blood,
The blameless prophet turned to me and said--”[229]
Then, came the prophecy, from the blood-revivified seer.
The wide-spread popular superstition of the vampire and of the ghoul,
seems to be an outgrowth of this universal belief, that transfused
blood is re-vivification. The bloodless shades, leaving their graves at
night, seek renewed life, by drawing out the blood of those who sleep;
taking of the life of the living, to supply temporary life to the dead.
This idea was prevalent in ancient Babylon and Assyria.[230] It has
shown itself in the Old World and in the New,[231] in all the ages; and
even within a little more than a century, it has caused an epidemic of
fear in Hungary, “resulting in a general disinterment, and the burning
or staking of the suspected bodies.”[232]
An added force is given to all these illustrations of the universal
belief that transferred blood has a vivifying power, by the conclusions
of modern medical science, concerning the possible benefits of
blood-transfusion.[233] On this point, one of the foremost living
authorities in this department of practice, Dr. Roussel, of Geneva,
says: “The great vitality of the blood of a vigorous and healthy man
has the power of improving the quality of the patient’s blood, and can
restore activity to the centres of nervous force, and the organs of
digestion. _It would seem that health itself can be transfused with the
blood of a healthy man_”;[234] death itself being purged out of the
veins by inflowing life. And in view of the possibilities of new life
to a dying one, through new blood from one full of life, this writer
insists, that “every adult and healthy man and woman should be ready to
offer an _arm_, as the natural and mysteriously inexhaustible source of
the wonder-working elixir.”[235] Blood-giving can be life-giving. The
measure of one’s love may, indeed, in _such_ a case, be tested by the
measure of his yielded blood.[236]
Roussel says, that blood transfusion was practised by the Egyptians,
the Hebrews, and the Syrians, in ancient times;[237] and he cites
the legend, that before Naaman came to Elisha to be healed of his
leprosy,[238] his physicians, in their effort at his cure, took the
blood from his veins, and replaced it with other blood. Whatever basis
of truth there may be in this legend, it clearly gained its currency
through the prevailing conviction that new blood is new life. There
certainly is ample evidence that baths of human blood were anciently
prescribed as a cure for the death-representing leprosy; as if in
recognition of this root idea of the re-vivifying power of transferred
blood.
Pliny, writing eighteen centuries ago, concerning leprosy, or
elephantiasis, says[239]: “This was the peculiar disease of Egypt;
and when it fell upon princes, woe to the people; for, in the bathing
chambers, tubs were prepared, with human blood, for the cure of it.”
Nor was this mode of life-seeking confined to the Egyptians. It is
said that the Emperor Constantine was restrained from it, only in
consequence of a vision from heaven.[240]
In the early English romance of Amys and Amylion, one of these knightly
brothers-in-arms consents, with his wife’s full approbation, to yield
the lives of his two infant children, in order to supply their blood
for a bath, for the curing of his brother friend’s leprosy.[241] In
this instance, the leprosy is cured, and the children’s lives are
miraculously restored to them; as if in proof of the divine approbation
of the loving sacrifice.
It is shown, indeed, that this belief in the life-bringing power of
baths of blood, to the death-smitten lepers, was continued into the
Middle Ages; and that it finally “received a check from an opinion
gradually gaining ground, that only the blood of those would be
efficacious, who offered themselves freely and voluntarily for a
beloved sufferer.”[242] There is something very suggestive in this
thought of the truest potency of transferred life through transferred
blood! It is this thought which finds expression and illustration in
Longfellow’s Golden Legend. In the castle of Vautsberg on the Rhine,
Prince Henry is sick with a strange and hopeless malady. Lucifer
appears to him in the garb of a traveling physician, and tells him of
the only possible cure for his disease, as prescribed in a venerable
tome:
“‘The only remedy that remains
Is the blood that flows from a maiden’s veins,
Who of her own free will shall die,
And give her life as the price of yours!’
That is the strangest of all cures,
And one, I think, you will never try;
The prescription you may well put by,
As something impossible to find
Before the world itself shall end!”
Elsie, the lovely daughter of a peasant in the Odenwald learns of the
Prince’s need, and declares she will give her blood for his cure. In
her chamber by night, her self-surrendering prayer goes up:
“‘If my feeble prayer can reach thee,
O my Saviour, I beseech thee,
Even as thou hast died for me,
More sincerely
Let me follow where thou leadest,
Let me, bleeding as thou bleedest,
Die, if dying I may give
Life to one who asks to live,
And more nearly,
Dying thus, resemble thee!’”
Her father, Gottlieb, consents to her life-surrender, saying to the
Prince:
“‘As Abraham offered, long ago,
His son unto the Lord, and even
The Everlasting Father in heaven
Gave his, as a lamb unto the slaughter,
So do I offer up my daughter.’”
And Elsie adds:
“‘My life is little,
Only a cup of water,
But pure and limpid.
Take it, O Prince!
Let it refresh you,
Let it restore you.
It is given willingly
It is given freely;
May God bless the gift!’”
The proffered sacrifice is interfered with before its consummation; but
its purposed method shows the estimate which was put, from of old, on
voluntarily yielded life for life.
There is said to be an Eastern legend somewhat like the story of Amys
and Amylion; with a touch of the ancient Egyptian and Mexican legends
already cited. “The Arabian chronicler speaks of a king, who, having
lost a faithful servant by his transformation into stone, is told that
he can call his friend back to life, if he is willing to behead his
two children, and to sprinkle the ossified figure with their blood. He
makes up his mind to the sacrifice; but as he approaches the children
with his drawn sword, the will is accepted by heaven for the deed, and
he suddenly sees the stone restored to animation.”[243] This story,
in substance, (only with the slaying and the resuscitating of the
children, as in the English romance,) appears in Grimm’s folk-lore
tales, under the title of “Faithful John”;[244] but whether its origin
was in the East or in the North, or in both quarters, is not apparent.
Its reappearance East, North, and West, is all the more noteworthy.
In the romances of King Arthur and his knights, there is a story of
a maiden daughter of King Pellinore, a sister of Sir Percivale, who
befriends the noble Sir Galahad, and then accompanies him and his
companions on their way to the castle of Carteloise, and beyond, in
their search for the Holy Grail.
“And again they went on to another castle, from which came a band of
knights, who told them of the custom of the place, that every maiden
who passed by must yield a dish full of her blood. ‘That shall she not
do,’ said Galahad, ‘while I live’; and fierce was the struggle that
followed; and the sword of Galahad, which was the sword of King David,
smote them down on every side, until those who remained alive craved
peace, and bade Galahad and his fellows come into the castle for the
night; ‘and on the morn,’ they said, ‘we dare say ye will be of one
accord with us, when ye know the reason for our custom?’ So awhile they
rested, and the knights told them that in the castle there lay a lady
sick to death, who might never gain back her life, until she should be
anointed with the blood of a pure maiden who was a king’s daughter.
Then said Percivale’s sister, ‘I will yield it, and so shall I get
health to my soul, and there shall be no battle on the morn.’ And even
so was it done; but the blood which she gave was so much that she might
not live; and as her strength passed away, she said to Percivale, ‘I
die, brother, for the healing of this lady.’ ... Thus was the lady of
the castle healed; and the gentle maiden, [Percivale’s sister,] ...
died.”[245]
In the old Scandinavian legends, there are indications of the
traditional belief in the power of transferred life through a bath
of blood. Siegfried, or Sigurd, a descendant of Odin, slew Fafner, a
dragon-shaped guardian of ill-gotten treasure. In the hot blood of
that dragon, he bathed himself, and so took on, as it were, an outer
covering of new life, rendering himself sword-proof, save at a single
point where a leaf of the linden-tree fell between his shoulders,
and shielded the flesh from the life-imparting blood.[246] On this
incident it is, that the main tragedy in the Nibelungen Lied pivots;
where Siegfried’s wife, Kriemhild, tells the treacherous Hagan of her
husband’s one vulnerable point:
“Said she, My husband’s daring, and thereto stout of limb;
Of old, when on the mountain he slew the dragon grim,
In its blood he bathed him, and thence no more can feel,
In his charmed person, the deadly dint of steel.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
“As from the dragon’s death-wounds gushed out the crimson gore,
With the smoking torrent, the warrior washed him o’er.
A leaf then ’twixt his shoulders fell from the linden bough;
There, only, steel can harm him; for that I tremble now.”[247]
Even among the blood-reverencing Brahmans of India, there are traces of
this idea, that life is to be guarded by the outpoured blood of others.
In the famous old work, “Kalila wa-Dimna,” there is the story of a
king, named Beladh, who had a vision in the night, which so troubled
him that he sought counsel of the Brahmans. Their advice was, that he
should sacrifice his favorite wife, his best loved son, his nephew,
and his dearest friend, in conjunction with other valued offerings to
the gods. “It will be necessary for you, O King,” they said, “when
you have put to death the persons we have named to you, to fill a
cauldron with their blood, and sit upon it; and when you get up from
the cauldron, we, the Brahmans, assembled from the four quarters of the
kingdom, will walk around you, and pronounce our incantations over you,
and we will spit upon you, and wipe off from you the blood, and will
wash you in water and sweet-oil, and then you may return to the palace,
trusting in the protection of heaven against the danger which threatens
you.”[248]
Here, the king’s offering to the gods, was to be of that which was
dearest to him; and the bath of blood was to prove to him a cover of
life. King Beladh wisely said, that if that were the price of his
safety he was ready to die. He would not prolong his life at such a
cost. But the story shows the primitive estimate of the life-giving
power of blood, among the Hindoos.
In China, also, blood has its place as a life-giving agency. A
Chinese woman, on the Kit-ie River, tells a missionary, of her
occasional seasons of frenzy, under the control of spirits, and of
her ministry of blood, at such seasons, for the cure of disease.
“Every year when there is to be a pestilence, or when cholera is to
prevail, she goes into this frenzy, and cuts her tongue with a knife,
letting some drops of her blood fall into a hogshead of water. This
[homœopathically-treated] water, the people drink as a specific against
contagion.” Its sacred blood is counted a shield of life. “With the
rest of the blood, she writes charms, which the people paste [as
words of life] upon their door-posts, or wear upon their persons, as
preventives of evil.”[249]
Receiving new blood as a means of receiving new life, seems to have
been sought interchangeably, in olden time, in various diseases, by
blood lavations, by blood drinking, and by blood transfusion. It is
recorded that, in 1483, King Louis XI., of France, struggled for life
by drinking the blood of young children, as a means of his revivifying.
“Every day he grew worse,” it is said; “and the medicines profited him
nothing, though of a strange character; for he vehemently hoped to
recover by the human blood which he took and swallowed from certain
children.”[250] Again there is a disputed claim, that, in 1492, a
Jewish physician endeavored to save the life of Pope Innocent VIII., by
giving him in transfusion the blood of three young men successively.
The Pope was not recovered, but the three young men lost their lives in
the experiment.[251] Yet blood transfusion as a means of new life to
the dying was not always a failure, even in former centuries; for the
record stands, that “at Frankfort, on the Oder, the surgeons Balthazar,
Kaufman, and Purmann, healed a leper, in 1683, by passing the blood of
a lamb into his veins.”[252]
Even to-day, in South Africa, “when the Zulu King is sick, his
immediate personal attendants, or _valets_, are obliged to allow
themselves to be wounded; that a portion of their blood may be
introduced into the king’s circulation, and a portion of his into
theirs.”[253] In this plan, the idea seems to be, that health may have
power over disease, and that death may be swallowed up in life, by
equalizing the blood of the one who is in danger, and of the many who
are in strength and safety. Moreover among the Kafirs those who are
still in health are sometimes “washed in blood to protect them against
wounds”;[254] as if an outer covering of life could be put on, for the
protection of their life within. Transfused human blood is also said
to be a common prescription of the medicine-men of Tasmania, for the
cure of disease.[255]
And so it would appear, that, whatever may be its basis in
physiological science, the opinion has prevailed, widely and always,
that there is a vivifying power in transferred blood; and that blood
not only represents but carries life.