"Verum, ubi correptum manibus vinclisque tenebis,
Turn variae eludent species atque ora ferarum."
If the members of the learned inquisition should furnish an explanation of
one, or more, of these _mirabilia_, a new series of perplexing novelties
would speedily arise, and demand their attention;--so that the _savans_
would, necessarily, become a standing committee, on modern miracles. The
incomparable Blitz, if the process were discovered, by which he appears,
instantaneously, to convert an egg into a pancake, would challenge you to
explain another, by which he rapidly deduces some thirty yards of ribbon
from the nose of a bystander. And, if we cannot explain this mystery, he
may as reasonably demand of us to believe it a reality, as goody Fox or
goody Fish may require her _customers_--for raising the dead is a
trade--to believe in her power, to conjure up spirits, because we may not
be able to discover the process, by which the rappings are produced.
But, even if an investigation were made, by the most competent
physiologists, and the decree should go forth, _ex cathedra_; it would,
probably, produce a very slight impression upon the whole community. That
same self-conceit, which often fills an old woman to the brim, with the
belief, that she is a more skilful leech, than AEsculapius ever was, will
continue to stand the credulous instead; and the rappings will go on, in
spite of the decree of the _savans_; the spirits of the dead will continue
to be raised, as they are, at present, at fifty cents apiece; men, women,
and children will insist upon their inalienable right to believe, that
eggs are pancakes, and that, in violation of all the established laws of
nature, ghosts may be conjured up, at the shortest notice; and examples
will continue to occur, of distressing nervous excitement, domestic
misery, self-murder, and madness.
The question recurs--what shall be done, for the correction of this
increasing evil? Some suggestions have been made, sufficiently germain to
several of the extraordinary pretensions of the present day. Thus, in
respect to _clairvoyance_, a standing offer of several thousand francs has
been made, by certain persons, in Paris, to any individual, who will prove
his ability to see through a pine plank. In regard also to the assumption
of knowledge, obtained, through a pretended communication with spirits, a
purse of gold has been offered to any person, who, with the aid of all
the spirits he can conjure up to his assistance, will truly declare the
amount it contains, with a moderate forfeit, in case of failure.
This whole matter of conjuration, and spiritual rapping has become an
insufferable evil. It is a crying nuisance, and should be dealt with
accordingly. It is, by no means, necessary, before we proceed to abate a
nuisance, to inquire, in what manner it is produced. It is not possible to
distinguish, between the _chevaliers d'industrie_, who swindle the
credulous out of their money, by the exhibition of these highly pernicious
orgies, from conjurors and jugglers. If this construction be correct, and
I perceive nothing to the contrary, then these mischief-makers come within
the fifth section of chapter 143 of the Revised Statutes of Massachusetts.
Any police court or justice of the peace, has power to send to the house
of correction, "_all persons who use any juggling_." It would be a public
service to apply this wholesome law to goody Fox, or goody Fish, or any
other goody, of either sex, holding these conjurations within our
precinct. Upon a complaint, the question would necessarily arise if the
offence charged were "_juggling_" or not; and the rule of evidence,
_cuique in sua arte_, would bring out the opinions of men, learned in
their profession. I am aware of no other mode, by which those persons are
likely to be gratified, who believe these proceedings entitled to serious
examination. Let us not drop this interesting subject here.
No. CLIX.
In the olden time, almanacs were exclusively the work of judicial
astrologers. The calendar, in addition to the registration of remarkable
events, and times, and tides, and predictions, in relation to the weather,
presumed to foretell the affairs of mankind, and the prospective changes,
in the condition of the world; not by any processes of reasoning, but by a
careful contemplation of the heavenly bodies.
On most occasions, these predictions were sufficiently vague, for the
soothsayer's security; quite as much so, as our more modern
foreshadowings, in relation to the weather, whose admonitions, to _expect
a change_, _about these times_, are frequently extended from the beginning
to the end of the calendar month. An example of this wariness appears, in
a letter of John of Salisbury, written in 1170. "The astrologers," says
he, "call this year the wonderful year, from the singular situation of the
planets and constellations; and say, that, in the course of it, the
councils of kings will be changed, wars will be frequent, and the world
will be troubled with seditions; that learned men will be discouraged;
but, towards the end of the year, they will be exalted."
Emboldened, by the almost universal deference, paid to their predictions,
the astrologers soon began to venture, on a measure of precision, which
was somewhat hazardous.
In the commencement of the year 1186, the most distinguished judicial
astrologers, not only in England, but upon the continent, proclaimed, that
there existed an unprecedented conjunction of the planets, in the sign
Libra. Hence they predicted, that, on Tuesday, the sixteenth day of
September, at three o'clock in the morning, a storm would arise, such as
the world had never known before. They asserted, with an amazing
confidence, that, not only individual structures would be destroyed, by
this terrible storm, but that great cities would be swept away, before its
fury. This tempest, according to their predictions, would be followed, by
a far spreading pestilence, and by wars of unexampled severity. A
particular account of these remarkable predictions may be found, on page
356 of the annals of Roger de Hoveden.
No more conclusive evidence is necessary of the implicit, and universal
confidence, which then prevailed, in the teachings of judicial astrology,
than the wide spread dismay and consternation, produced by these bold and
positive predictions. It is not possible to calculate the sum of human
misery, inflicted upon society, by the terrible anticipations of these
coming events. As the fatal day drew near, extraordinary preparations were
everywhere made, to secure property, from the devastating effects of the
approaching tempest. Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury, commanded a solemn
fast of three days' continuance, throughout his precinct. On the night of
the fifteenth of September, very many persons sat up, in solemn
expectation of the coming tempest.
It has been cruelly observed of medical men, that, to some of their
number, the death of a patient would, on the whole, be rather more
agreeable, than that he should falsify their prediction, by the recovery
of his health. How powerfully a sentiment, similar to this, must have
exercised the spirits of these astrologers, as the appointed hour drew
nigh! It came at last--bright and cloudless--followed by a day of unusual
serenity. The season was one of extraordinary mildness; the harvest and
vintage were abundant; and the general health of the people was a subject
of universal observation. Old Gervase, of Tilbury, in his Chronicles,
alluding to the Archbishop's fears and fastings, remarks, that there were
no storms, during the whole year, other than such, as the Archbishop
himself raised in the church, by his own absurdity and violence.
The astrologers hung their heads, for very shame, and lost caste, for a
time, with the people.
Divination was, of old, emphatically, a royal folly; and kings have been
its dupes and votaries, from the earliest ages of the world. The secret
manner, in which Saul betook himself to the witch of Endor, arose, partly,
from his knowledge, that such orgies were a violation of divine and human
laws. The evils, resulting from such absurdities, had become so apparent,
that Saul, himself, had already banished all the soothsayers and magicians
from his kingdom. It is manifest, from the experience of Saul, that it is
unwise to consult a witch, upon an empty stomach--"_Then Saul fell
straightway all along on the earth, and was sore afraid, because of the
words of Samuel: and there was no strength in him; for he had eaten no
bread all the day, nor all the night_."
Lucan, lib. vi. v. 570, et seq., represents young Pompey, just before the
battle of Pharsalia, as paying a nocturnal visit, to a sorceress of
Thessaly, of whom he inquires, in relation to the issue of the combat.
With the ordinary preliminaries, charms, and incantations, the necromancer
conjures up the ghost of a soldier, who had recently fallen in battle. At
length, she pronounces a denunciation, between which and the prediction of
the witch of Endor, delivered to Saul, the resemblance is certainly
remarkable.
The laws of France, in the time of Louis XIV., were extremely rigorous,
against sorcery and divination, inflicting the severest penalties, upon
all, who pretended to exercise their skill, in these worse than
unprofitable mysteries. Nevertheless, an extraordinary story is related,
in the autobiography of Madame Du Barri, as communicated to her, by Louis
XV., of several visits stealthily paid, by Louis XIV., and Madame de
Maintenon, to a celebrated judicial astrologer, in Paris. This narrative
may be found recorded, at length, in the first volume of Madame Du Barri's
Memoirs, commencing on page 286.
The age of Louis XIV. was an age of superstition. An Italian priest, a
secret professor of the art of necromancy, was induced, upon the King's
promise of protection, against the parliament, in the event of a
discovery, to satisfy the royal curiosity, and open the book of fate. At
the hour appointed, being midnight, Madame de Maintenon and the _Duc de
Noailles_ were conveyed to a house in Sevres, where they met the sorcerer,
who had celebrated the mass alone, and consecrated several wafers. After
performing a variety of ceremonies, he drew the horoscope of the King, and
Madame de Maintenon. He promised the King, that he should succeed, in all
his undertakings. He then gave his Majesty a parcel, wrapped in new
parchment, and carefully sealed, saying to the King--"the day, in which
you form the fatal resolution of acquainting yourself with the contents of
this package, will be the last of your prosperity; but, if you desire to
carry your good fortune to the highest pitch, be careful, upon every great
festival, Easter, Whitsunday, the Assumption, and Christmas, to pierce
this talisman with a pin; do this, and be happy."
Certain events confirmed the sorcerer's predictions--others gave them the
lie direct. The royal confidence was shaken.
Upon one occasion, the Bishop of Meaux, the great Bossuet, chanced to be
at the apartments of Madame de Maintenon; and the subject of magic and
sorcery being introduced, the good Bishop expressed himself, with such
abhorrence of the profanation, as effectually to stir up a sentiment of
compunction, in the bosom of the King and Madame. At length, they
disclosed the secret to their confessors, to whom the most effectual means
of breaking the charm appeared to be, to break open the talismanic
package; and this was accordingly imposed, as a penance, on the King.
His sacred Majesty was thus painfully placed, _inter cornua_, or, as we
trivially say, between hawk and buzzard--between the priest and the
sorcerer. His good sense, if not his devotion, prevailed. The package was
torn open, in the presence of Madame de Maintenon, and father la Chaise.
It contained a consecrated wafer, pierced with as many holes, as there had
been saints' days in the calendar, since it had been in the King's
possession. That consternation fell upon the King, which becomes a good
Catholic, when he believes, that he has committed sacrilege. He was long
disordered, by the recollection, and all, that masses and starvation could
avail, to purge the offence, was cheerfully submitted to, by the King.
Louis XV. closes this farcical account, with a grave averment, that his
ancestor, after this, lost as many male descendants, in the right line, as
he had stuck pins, in the holy wafer. There may, possibly, be some little
consolation, in the reflection, that, if the private history of Louis le
Grand be entitled to any credit, like Charles the Second of England, he
could well afford the sacrifice--of whom Butler pleasantly remarks--
"Go on, brave Charles, and if thy back,
As well as purse, but hold thee tack,
Most of thy realm, in time, the rather
Than call thee king, shall call thee father."
The Millennarians of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries--and these
enthusiasts are, by no means, of modern origin--may be said to have
hunted, in company with the judicial astrologers. Herlicius and the
Millennarians solemnly predicted the destruction of the Turkish Empire, in
1665, the one relying upon the aspect of the stars, and the other upon
their fantastical interpretation of the Scriptures; and both, in all
likelihood, chiefly, upon the good sword and stubborn will of the Emperor;
who, to their infinite disappointment and mortification, finally made
peace with the Ottomans. Yet David Herlicius was no impostor, or if so,
there was no greater dupe to his astrological doctrines than himself. He
was a learned, pious, and honest man.
There is, probably, no more extensively popular error, than that a
deceiver must possess, on all occasions, a greater measure of knowledge
than the deceived. Herlicius was an eminent physician; and Bayle says of
him, vol. vi. page 137--"One can hardly imagine why a man, who had so much
business, in the practice of physic, and who never had any children,
should fear to want bread in his old age, unless he drew horoscopes."
This eminent man had doubtless some little misgivings, as to the
infallibility of the art, after the failure of his prediction, in relation
to the Ottomans. Bayle recites an extract of a letter, from Herlicius to a
friend, in which the writer says: "Oh that fortune would look kindly upon
me! that, without meddling with those astrological trifles, I might make
provision for old age, which threatens me with blindness; and I would
never draw any horoscope. In the mean time, when a great many persons
inquire for, and desire to know more things, than are within the compass
of our art, or more than it can explain, I choose rather to act with
conscience, than to disgrace, and, as it were, to defile, our sacred
Astrology, and to cast a blemish upon it. For our art abounds with a great
number of Chaldean superstitions, which several of our countrymen are
still obstinately fond of. A great many ask me what color of clothes and
horses will be lucky for them? Sometimes I laugh heartily, at these and
other such absurd questions, but I do also often abhor them. For I am
enamored with the virgin state of our art, nor can I suffer that it should
be so abominably defiled, as to give the enemies of astrology an
opportunity to object to us those abuses, to the contempt of the art
itself."
At the period, when Herlicius unfortunately predicted the destruction of
the Ottoman power, Judicial Astrology was in the highest favor in England.
The date of the prediction, 1665, was the sixth year of Charles the
Second. Whatever space remained, unoccupied by other follies, during the
reign of the Stuarts, and even during the interregnum, was filled by the
preposterous doctrines of Judicial Astrology. It is perfectly well
established, that Charles the First, when meditating his escape from
Carisbrook castle, in 1647, consulted the famous astrologer, Sir William
Lilly.
No. CLX.
Isabel, Countess of Warwick, 1439--"My body is to be buried, in the Abbey
of Tewksbury; and I desire, that my great Templys[19] with the Baleys[20]
be sold to the utmost, and delivered to the monks of that house, so that
they grutched not my burial there. Also I will that my statue be made, all
naked, with my hair cast backwards, according to the design and model,
which Thomas Porchalion[21] has, for that purpose, with Mary Magdalen
laying her hand across, and St. John the Evangelist on the right side, and
St. Anthony on the left." The singularity of this provision would lead one
to believe that the testatrix made her will, under the influence of St.
Anthony's fire.
John, Lord Fanhope, 1443--"To John, my bastard son, now at Ampthill, ccc.
marks; and, in case he should die, before he attain the age of twenty-one,
I will that Thomas, my other bastard son, shall have the said ccc. marks."
Henry Beaufort was the second son of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, by
Katherine Swinford, a bastard born, but with his brothers and sister,
legitimated by act of Parliament, 20 Rich. II., became Bishop of Lincoln
1397--translated to Winchester, 1404, and made a Cardinal. He was
remarkable, for his immense wealth, prudence, and frugality. He was four
times Chancellor of England. He is reported to have clung to life with a
remarkable tenacity. Rapin says, he died for grief, that wealth could not
save him from death. The death bed of this Cardinal is admirably described
by Shakspeare, in the second part of King Henry VI., Act III., Scene III.:
_K. Henry._ How fares my lord? Speak Beaufort to thy Sovereign.
_Cardinal._ If thou be'st Death, I'll give thee England's treasure,
Enough to purchase such another island,
So thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain.
* * * * *
_Warwick._ See how the pangs of death do make him grin.
_Salisbury._ Disturb him not, let him pass peaceably.
_K. Henry._ Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be!
Lord Cardinal, if think'st on Heaven's bliss,
Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope.
He dies, and makes no sign; Oh God forgive him!
_Warwick._ So bad a death argues a monstrous life.
_K. Henry._ Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all--
Close up his eyes, and draw the curtains close.
The Cardinal's will, though without date, was made about 1443.--"I will
that ten thousand masses be said for my soul, as soon as possible after
my decease, three thousand of requiem, three thousand of _de rorate coeli
desuper_, three thousand of the Holy Ghost, and one thousand of the
Trinity. * * * * Item, I bequeath to my Lord, King Henry, a tablet with
reliques, which is called the tablet of Bourbon, and a cup of gold with a
ewer, which belonged to the illustrious prince, his father, and offered by
him on Easter Eve, and out of which cup he usually drunk, and for the last
time drank. * * * * Item, I bequeath to my Lord the King, my dish or plate
of gold for spices, and my cup of gold, enamelled with images."
In two codicils to this will, Cardinal Beaufort refers to certain crown
jewels, and vessels of silver and gold, pledged to him by the King and
Parliament, for certain sums lent. When the King went into France and
Normandy, and upon other subsequent occasions, the Cardinal had loaned the
King L22,306 18_s._ 8_d._ It appears in Rymer, vol. x. page 502, that the
King redeemed the sword of Spain and sundry jewels, pledged to the
Cardinal, for L493 6_s._ 8_d._
John, Duke of Exeter, 1447--"I will that four honest and cunning priests
be provided, to pray perpetually every year, for my soul." He then conveys
certain manors to his son Henry, "provided always, that an annuity of
XL_l._ be reserved for my two bastard sons, William and Thomas."
William Burges, garter King of Arms, 1449, bequeaths to the church of St.
George at Staunford--"to the seyd chirch for ther solempne feste dayes to
stand upon the high awter 11 grete basque of silver, and 11 high
candlesticks of sylver, 1 coupe of sylver, in the whych is one litel box
of yvory, to put in the blessid sacrament." He also gives to said church
"two greter candelstykkes, and for eiche of these candelstykkes to be
ordayned a taper of waxe of 1 pound wight, and so served, to be lighted
atte dyvyne servyce at pryncipal fest dayes, and al other solempne festes,
as, at matyns, pryme, masse, and the yeven songs."
John, Lord Scrope, 1451--"To the altar, in the chapel of St. Mary, at
York, a jewel, with a bone of St. Margaret, and XL_s._ for ringing their
bells, at my funeral."
Ann, Duchess of Exeter, 1457--"I forbid my executors to make any great
feast, or to have a solemn hearse, or any costly lights, or largess of
liveries according to the glory or vain pomp of the world, at my funeral,
but only to the worship of God, after the discretion of Mr. John
Pynchebeke, Doctor of Divinity."
Edmund Brudenell, 1457--"To Agmondesham Church; to the Provosts of the
Church for the maintenance of the great light before the cross XX_s._ To
the maintenance of the light before St. Katherine's Cross, III_s._ IV_d._"
John Younge, 1458--"To the fabrick of the Church of Herne, viz., to make
seats, called puyinge, X. marks."