CHAPTER XIX.

INSTANCES OF SORCERERS AND WITCHES BEING, AS THEY SAID, TRANSPORTED TO

THE SABBATH.

All that is said about witches going to the sabbath is treated as a

fable, and we have several examples which prove that they do not stir

from their bed or their chamber. It is true that some of them anoint

themselves with a certain grease or unguent, which makes them sleepy,

and renders them insensible; and during this swoon they fancy that

they go to the sabbath, and there see and hear what every one says is

there seen and heard.

We read, in the book entitled _Malleus Maleficorum_, or the _Hammer of

the Sorcerers_, that a woman who was in the hands of the Inquisitors

assured them that she repaired really and bodily whither she would,

and that even were she shut up in prison and strictly guarded, and let

the place be ever so far off.

The Inquisitors ordered her to go to a certain place, to speak to

certain persons, and bring back news of them; she promised to obey,

and was directly locked up in a chamber, where she lay down, extended

as if dead; they went into the room, and moved her; but she remained

motionless, and without the least sensation, so that when they put a

lighted candle to her foot and burnt it she did not feel it. A little

after, she came to herself, and gave an account of the commission they

had given her, saying she had had a great deal of trouble to go that

road. They asked her what was the matter with her foot; she said it

hurt her very much since her return, and knew not whence it came.

Then the Inquisitors declared to her what had happened; that she had

not stirred from her place, and that the pain in her foot was caused

by the application of a lighted candle during her pretended absence.

The thing having been verified, she acknowledged her folly, asked

pardon, and promised never to fall into it again.

Other historians relate[216] that, by means of certain drugs with

which both wizards and witches anoint themselves, they are really and

corporally transported to the sabbath. Torquemada relates, on the

authority of Paul Grilland, that a husband suspecting his wife of being

a witch, desired to know if she went to the sabbath, and how she managed

to transport herself thither. He watched her so narrowly, that he saw

her one day anoint herself with a certain unguent, and then take the

form of a bird and fly away, and he saw her no more till the next

morning, when he found her by his side. He questioned her very much,

without making her own anything; at last he told her what he had himself

seen, and by dint of beating her with a stick, he constrained her to

tell him her secret, and to take him with her to the sabbath.

Arrived at this place, he sat down to table with the others; but as

all the viands which were on the table were very insipid, he asked for

some salt; they were some time before they brought any; at last,

seeing a salt-cellar, he said--"God be praised, there is some salt at

last!" At the same instant, he heard a very great noise, all the

company disappeared, and he found himself alone and naked in a field

among the mountains. He went forward and found some shepherds; he

learned that he was more than three leagues from his dwelling. He

returned thither as he could, and, having related the circumstance to

the Inquisitors, they caused the woman and several others, her

accomplices, to be taken up and chastised as they deserved.

The same author relates that a woman, returning from the sabbath and

being carried through the air by the evil spirit, heard in the morning

the bell for the _Angelus_. The devil let her go immediately, and she

fell into a quickset hedge on the bank of a river; her hair fell

disheveled over her neck and shoulders. She perceived a young lad who

after much entreaty came and took her out and conducted her to the

next village, where her house was situated; it required most pressing

and repeated questions on the part of the lad, before she would tell

him truly what had happened to her; she made him presents, and begged

him to say nothing about it, nevertheless the circumstance got spread

abroad.

If we could depend on the truth of these stories, and an infinite

number of similar ones, which books are full of, we might believe that

sometimes sorcerers are carried bodily to the sabbath; but on

comparing these stories with others which prove that they go thither

only in mind and imagination, we may say boldly, that what is related

of wizards and witches who go or think they go to the sabbath, is

usually only illusion on the part of the devil, and seduction on the

part of those of both sexes who fancy they fly and travel, while they

in reality do not stir from their places. The spirit of malice and

falsehood being mixed up in this foolish prepossession, they confirm

themselves in their follies and engage others in the same impiety; for

Satan has a thousand ways of deceiving mankind and of retaining them

in error. Magic, impiety, enchantments, are often the effects of a

diseased imagination. It rarely happens that these kind of people do

not fall into every excess of licentiousness, irreligion, and theft,

and into the most outrageous consequences of hatred to their

neighbors.

Some have believed that demons took the form of the sorcerers and

sorceresses who were supposed to be at the sabbath, and that they

maintained the simple creatures in their foolish belief, by appearing

to them sometimes in the shape of those persons who were reputed

witches, while they themselves were quietly asleep in their beds. But

this belief contains difficulties as great, or perhaps greater, than

the opinion we would combat. It is far from easy to understand that

the demon takes the form of pretended sorcerers and witches, that he

appears under this shape, that he eats, drinks, and travels, and does

other actions to make simpletons believe that sorcerers go to the

sabbath. What advantage does the devil derive from making idiots

believe these things, or maintaining them in such an error?

Nevertheless it is related[217] that St. Germain, Bishop of Auxerre,

traveling one day, and passing through a village in his diocese, after

having taken some refreshment there, remarked that they were preparing

a great supper, and laying out the table anew; he asked if they

expected company, and they told him it was for those good women who go

by night. St. Germain well understood what was meant, and resolved to

watch to see the end of this adventure.

Some time after he beheld a multitude of demons who came in the form

of men and women, and sat down to table in his presence. St. Germain

forbade them to withdraw, and calling the people of the house, he

asked them if they knew those persons: they replied, that they were

such and such among their neighbors: "Go," said he, "and see if they

are in their houses:" they went, and found them asleep in their beds.

The saint conjured the demons, and obliged them to declare that it is

thus they mislead mortals, and make them believe that there are

sorcerers and witches who go by night to the sabbath; they obeyed, and

disappeared, greatly confused.

This history may be read in old manuscripts, and is to be found in

Jacques de Varasse, Pierre de Noels, in St. Antonine, and in old

Breviaries of Auxerre, as well printed, as manuscript. I by no means

guarantee the truth of this story; I think it is absolutely

apocryphal; but it proves that those who wrote and copied it believed

that these nocturnal journeys of sorcerers and witches to the sabbath,

were mere illusions of the demon. In fact, it is hardly possible to

explain all that is said of sorcerers and witches going to the

sabbath, without having recourse to the ministry of the demon; to which

we must add a disturbed imagination, with a mind misled, and foolishly

prepossessed, and, if you will, a few drugs which affect the brain,

excite the humors, and produce dreams relative to impressions already

in their minds.

In John Baptist Porta Cardan, and elsewhere, may be found the

composition of those ointments with which witches are said to anoint

themselves, to be able to transport themselves to the sabbath; but the

only real effect they produce is to send them to sleep, disturb their

imagination, and make them believe they are going long journeys, while

they remain profoundly sleeping in their beds.

The fathers of the council of Paris, of the year 829, confess that

magicians, wizards, and people of that kind, are the ministers and

instruments of the demon in the exercise of their diabolical art; that

they trouble the minds of certain persons by beverages calculated to

inspire impure love; that they are persuaded they can disturb the sky,

excite tempests, send hail, predict the future, ruin and destroy the

fruit, and take away the milk of cattle belonging to one person, in

order to give it to cattle the property of another.

The bishops conclude that all the rigor of the laws enacted by princes

against such persons ought to be put in force against them, and so

much the more justly, that it is evident they yield themselves up to

the service of the devil.

Spranger, in the _Malleus Maleficorum_, relates, that in Suabia, a

peasant who was walking in his fields with his little girl, a child

about eight years of age, complained of the drought, saying, "Alas!

when will God give us some rain?" Immediately the little girl told him

that she could bring him some down whenever he wished it. He

answered,--"And who has taught you that secret?" "My mother," said

she, "who has strictly forbidden me to tell any body of it."

"And what did she do to give you this power?"

"She took me to a master, who comes to me as many times as I call

him."

"And have you seen this master?"

"Yes," said she, "I have often seen men come to my mother's house; she

has devoted me to one of them."

After this dialogue, the father asked her how she could do to make it

rain upon his field only. She asked but for a little water; he led her

to a neighboring brook, and the girl having called the water in the

name of him to whom she had been devoted by her mother, they beheld

directly abundance of rain falling on the peasant's field.

The father, convinced that his wife was a sorceress, accused her

before the judges, who condemned her to be burnt. The daughter was

baptized and vowed to God, but she then lost the power of making it

rain at her will.

Footnotes:

[216] Alphons. a Castro ex Petro Grilland. Tract. de Haeresib.

[217] Bolland, 5 Jul. p. 287.

The Phantom World; or, The philosophy of spirits, apparitions, &c, &c. · 第 19 / 56 章