the purpose of wreaking their vengeance upon their enemies, is very
common among all nations, and has often been vividly embodied in legends
and ballads. The stories of Hamlet and of Don Giovanni are based upon
this belief, and the older chronicles abound with similar cases
belonging to an age when violence was more frequent and justice less
prompt than in our day. Thus we are told in the annals of the famous
castle of Weinsberg in Suabia--justly renowned all over the world for
the rare instance of marital attachment exhibited by its women--that a
steward had wantonly murdered a peasant there. Thereupon disturbances of
various kinds began to make the castle uninhabitable; a black shape was
seen walking about and breathing hot and hateful odors upon all it met,
while the steward became an object of special persecution. The
townspeople at first were skeptic and laughed at his reports, but soon
the black visitor was seen on the ramparts of the town also and created
within the walls the same sensation as up at the castle. The good
citizens at last observed a solemn fast-day and performed a pilgrimage
to a holy shrine at Heilbrum. But all was in vain, and the disturbances
and annoyances increased in frequency and violence, till at last the
unfortunate steward died from vexation and sorrow, when the whole ceased
and peace was restored to town and castle alike (Crusius, "Suabian
Chron." ii. p. 417).
Another case of this kind is connected with a curious token of gratitude
exhibited by the gratified victim. A president of the Parliament of
Toulouse, returning from Paris towards the end of the seventeenth
century, was compelled by an accident to stop at a poor country tavern.
During the night there appeared to him an old man, pale and bleeding,
who declared that he was the father of the present owner of the house,
that he had been murdered by his own son, cut to pieces, and buried in
the garden. He appealed to the president to investigate the matter and
to avenge his murder. The judge was so forcibly impressed by his vision
that he ordered search to be made, and lo! the body of the murdered man
was found, and the son, thunderstruck by the mysterious revelation,
acknowledged his guilt, was tried, and in course of time died on the
scaffold. But the murdered man was not satisfied yet; he showed himself
once more to the president and asked how he could prove his gratitude?
The latter asked to be informed of the hour of his death, that he might
fitly prepare himself, and was promised that he should know it a week in
advance. Many years afterwards a fierce knocking was heard at the gate
of the president's house in Toulouse; the porter opened but saw no one;
the knocking was repeated, but this time also the servants who had
rushed to the spot found nobody there; when it was heard a third time
they were thoroughly frightened and hastened to inform their master. The
latter went to the door and there saw the well-remembered form of his
nightly visitor, who told him that he would die in eight days. He told
his friends and his family what had happened, but only met with
laughter, as he was in perfect health and nothing seemed more improbable
than his sudden death. But as he sat, on the eighth day, at table with
his family, a book was mentioned which he wished to see, and he got up
to look for it in his library. Instantly a shot is heard; the guests
rush out and find him lying on the floor and weltering in his blood.
Upon inquiry it appeared that a man, desperately in love with the
chamber-maid and jealous of a rival, had mistaken the president for the
latter and murdered him with a pistol (De Segur, _Galerie morale et
politique_, p. 221).
Among the numerous accounts of visions which seem to have been caused by
an instinctive and perfectly unconscious perception of human remains,
the story of the Rev. Mr. Lindner, in Koenigsberg, is perhaps the best
authenticated, and from the character of the man to whom the revelation
was made, the most trustworthy. It is fully reported by Professor
Ehrmann of Strasburg, in _Kies. Archiv._ x. iii., p. 143. The minister,
a modest, pious man, awoke in the middle of the night, and saw, by the
bright moonlight which was shining into the room, another minister in
gown and bands, standing before his open bible, apparently searching for
some quotation. He had a small child in his arms, and a larger child
stood by his side. After some time spent in speechless astonishment, Mr.
Lindner exclaimed: "All good spirits praise God!" whereupon the stranger
turned round, went up to him and offered three times to shake hands with
him. Mr. Lindner, however, refused to do so, gazing at the same time
intently at his features, and after a while he found himself looking at
the air, for all had disappeared. It was a long time afterwards, when
sauntering through the cloisters of his church, he was suddenly arrested
by a portrait which bore all the features of the minister he had seen on
that night. It was one of his predecessors in office, who had died
nearly fifty years ago in rather bad odor, reports having been current
at the time, as very old men still living testified, that he had had
several illegitimate children, of whose fate nothing was known. But
there was a still further sequel to the minister's strange adventure. In
the course of the next year his study was enlarged, and for that purpose
the huge German stove had to be removed; to the horror of the workmen
and of Mr. Lindner, who was promptly called to the spot, the remains of
several children were found carefully concealed beneath the solid
structure. As there is no reason to suspect self-delusion in the
reverend man, and the vision cannot well be ascribed to any outward
cause, it must be presumed that his sensitive nature was painfully
affected by the skeletons in his immediate neighborhood, and that this
unconscious feeling, acting through his imagination, gave form and shape
to the impressions made upon his nerves.
In another case the principal person was a candidate of divinity,
Billing, well known as being of a highly sensitive disposition and given
to hallucinations; the extreme suffering which the presence of human
remains caused to his whole system had been previously already observed.
The great German fabulist, Pfeffel, a blind man, once took Billing's arm
and went with him into the garden to take an airing. The poet noticed
that when they came to a certain place, the young man hesitated and his
arm trembled as if it had received an electric shock. When he was asked
what was the matter, he replied, "Oh, nothing!" But upon passing over
the spot a second time, the same tremor made itself felt. Pressed by
Pfeffel, the young man at last acknowledged that he experienced at that
spot the sensation which the presence of a corpse always produced in
him, and offered to go there with the poet at night in order to prove to
him the correctness of his feelings. When the two friends went to the
garden after dark, Billing perceived at once a faint glimmer of light
above the spot. He stopped at a distance of about ten yards, and after a
while declared that he saw a female figure hovering above the place,
about five feet high, with the right arm across her bosom and the left
hand hanging down by her side. When the poet advanced and stood on the
fatal spot, the young man affirmed that the image was on his right or
his left, before or behind him, and when Pfeffel struck around him with
his cane, it produced the effect as if he were cutting through a flame
which instantly reunited. The same phenomena were witnessed a second
time by a number of Pfeffel's relations. Several days afterwards, while
the young man was absent, the poet caused the place in the garden to be
dug up, and at a depth of several feet, beneath a layer of lime, a human
skeleton was discovered. It was removed, the hole filled up, and all
smoothed over again. After Billing's return the poet took him once more
into the garden, and this time the young man walked over the fatal spot
without experiencing the slightest sensation (_Kieser, Archiv._, etc.,
p. 326).
It was this remarkable experience which led Baron Reichenbach to verify
it by leading one of his sensitive patients, a Miss Reichel, at night to
the great cemetery of Vienna. As soon as she reached the place she
perceived everywhere a sea of flames, brightest over the new graves,
weaker over others, and quite faint here and there. In a few cases these
lights reached a height of nearly four feet, but generally they had more
the appearance of luminous mists, so that her hand, held over the place
where she saw one, seemed to be enveloped in a cloud of fire. She was in
no way troubled by the phenomena, which she had often previously
observed, and Baron Reichenbach thought he saw in them a confirmation of
his theory about the Od-light. There can be, however, little doubt that
the luminous appearance, perceptible though it be only to unusually
sensitive persons, is the result of chemical decomposition, which has a
peculiar influence over these persons.
Hence, no doubt, the numerous accounts of will-o'-the-wisps and ghostly
lights seen in graveyards; the frightened beholder is nearly always
laughed at or heartily abused, and more than one poor child has fallen a
victim to the absurd theory of "curing it of foolish fears." There can
be no doubt that light does appear flickering above churchyards, and
that there is something more than mere idle superstition in the
"corpse-candles" of the Welsh and in the "elf-candles" of the Scotch,
which are seen, with foreboding weight, in the house of sickness,
betokening near dissolution. At the same time, it is well known that
living persons also have, under certain circumstances, given out light,
and especially from their head. The cases of Moses, whose face shone
with unbearable brightness, and of the martyr Stephen, are familiar to
all, and the halo with which artists surround the heads of saints bears
eloquent evidence of the universal and deeply-rooted belief. But science
also has fully established the fact that light appears as a real and
unmistakable luminous efflux from the human body, alike in health and
in mortal sickness. By far the most common case of such emission of
light is the emission of sparks from the hair when combed. Before and
during the electrical "dust-storms" in India, this phenomenon is of
frequent occurrence in the hair of both sexes. In dry weather, and when
the hair also is dry, and especially immediately before thunderstorms,
the same sparks are seen in all countries. Dr. Phipson mentions the case
of a relative of his, "whose hair (exactly one yard and a quarter long),
when combed somewhat rapidly with a black gutta-percha comb, emits
sheets of light upward of a foot in length," the light being "composed
of hundreds of small electric sparks, the snapping noise of which is
distinctly heard."
But electric light is sometimes given off by the human body itself, not
merely from the hair. A memorable instance of this phenomenon is
recorded by Dr. Kane in the journal of his last voyage to the Polar
regions. He and a companion, Petersen, had gone to sleep in a hut during
intense cold, and on awaking in the night, found, to their horror, that
their lamp--their only hope--had gone out. Petersen tried in vain to get
light from a pocket-pistol, and then Kane resolved to take the pistol
himself. "It was so intensely dark," he says, "that I had to grope for
it, and in so doing, I touched his hand. At that instant the pistol--in
Petersen's hand--became distinctly visible. A pale bluish light,
slightly tremulous, but not broken, covered the metallic parts of it.
The stock, too, was distinctly visible as if by reflected light, and to
the amazement of both of us, also the thumb and two fingers with which
Petersen was holding it--the creases, wrinkles and circuit of nails
being clearly defined upon the skin. As I took the pistol my hand became
illuminated also." This luminous and doubtless electric phenomenon took
place in highly exceptional circumstances, and is the only case recorded
in recent times. But a far more remarkable phenomenon of a similar kind
is mentioned by Bartholin, who gives an account of a lady in Italy, whom
he rightly styles _mulier splendens_, whose body became
phosphorescent--or rather shone with electric radiations--when slightly
rubbed with a piece of dry linen. In this case the luminosity appears to
have been normal, certainly very frequent under ordinary circumstances,
and the fact is well attested. Mr. B. H. Patterson mentions in the
journal _Belgravia_ (Oct., 1872), that he saw the flannel with which he
had rubbed his body, emit blue sparks, while at the same time he heard a
"crackling" sound. These facts prove that the human body even in
ordinary life, is capable of giving out luminous undulations, while
science teaches us that they appear quite frequently in disease. Here
again, Dr. Phipson mentions several cases as the result of his reading.
One of these is that of a woman in Milan, during whose illness a
so-called phosphoric light glimmered about her bed. Another remarkable
case is recorded by Dr. Marsh, in a volume on the "Evolution of Light
from the Human Subject," and reads thus: "About an hour and a half
before my sister's death, we were struck by luminous appearances
proceeding from her head in a diagonal direction. She was at the time in
a half-recumbent position, and perfectly tranquil. The light was pale as
the moon, but quite evident to mamma, myself, and sisters, who were
watching over her at the time. One of us at first thought it was
lightning, till shortly afterwards we perceived a sort of tremulous
glimmer playing around the head of the bed, and then, recollecting that
we had read something of a similar nature having been observed previous
to dissolution, we had candles brought into the room, fearing that our
dear sister would perceive the luminosity, and that it might disturb the
tranquillity of her last moments."
The other case relates to an Irish peasant, and is recorded from
personal observation by Dr. Donovan, in the _Dublin Medical Press_, in
1870, as follows: "I was sent to see Harrington in December. He had been
under the care of my predecessor, and had been entered as a phthisical
patient. He was under my care for about five years, and I had
discontinued my visits, when the report became general that mysterious
lights were seen every night in his cabin. The subject attracted a great
deal of attention. I determined to submit the matter to the ordeal of my
own senses, and for this purpose I visited the cabin for fourteen
nights. On three nights only I witnessed anything unusual. Once I
perceived a luminous fog resembling the aurora borealis; and twice I saw
scintillations like the sparkling phosphorescence exhibited by
sea-infusoria. From the close scrutiny I made, I can with certainty say,
that no imposition was either employed or attempted."
The only explanation ever offered by competent authority of the luminous
radiations from persons in disease, ascribes them to an efflux or escape
of the nerve-force, which is known to be kindred in its nature to
electricity, transmuting itself into luminosity as it leaves the body.
The Seeress of Prevorst reported that she saw the nerves as shining
threads, and even from the eyes of some persons rays of light seemed to
her to flash continually. Other somnambulists also, as well as
mesmerized persons, have seen the hair of persons shine with a multitude
of sparks, while the breath of their mouth appeared as a faint luminous
mist.
The same luminosity is, finally, perceived at times in graveyards, and
would, no doubt, have led to careful investigation more frequently, if
observers had not so often been suspected of superstitious
apprehensions. In the case of Baron Reichenbach's patients, however, no
such difficulty was to be feared; they saw invariably light, bluish
flames hovering over many graves, and what made the phenomena more
striking still, was the fact that these moving lights were only seen on
recent graves, as if naturally dependent upon the process of
decomposition. If we connect this with our experience of luminosity seen
in decaying vegetables, in spoiled meat, and in diseased persons, we
shall be prepared to believe that even so-called ghost stories, in which
mysterious lights play a prominent part, are by no means necessarily
without foundation.
Cases in which deceased persons have made themselves known to survivors,
or have produced, by some as yet unexplained agency, an impression upon
them through other senses than the sight, are very rare. Occasionally,
however, the hearing is thus affected, and sweet music is heard, in
token, as it were, of the continued intercourse between the dead and the
living. One instance may serve as an illustration.
The Countess A. had all her life been remarkable for the strange delight
she took in clocks; not a room in her castle but had its large or small
clock, and all these she insisted upon winding up herself at the proper
time. Her favorite, however, was a very curious and most costly clock in
her sitting-room, which had the form of a Gothic church, and displayed
in the steeple a small dial, behind which the works were concealed; at
the full hour a hymn was played by a kind of music-box attached to the
mechanism. She allowed no one to touch this clock, and used to sit
before it, as the hand approached the hour, waiting for the hymn to be
heard. At last she was taken ill and confined for seven weeks, during
which the clock could not be wound up, and then she died. For special
reasons the interment had to take place on the evening of the next day,
and, as the castle was far from any town, the preparations took so much
time that it was nearly midnight before the body could be moved from the
bedroom to the drawing-room, where the usual ceremonies were to be
performed. The transfer was accomplished under the superintendence of
her husband, who followed the coffin, and in the presence of a large
number of friends and dependents, while the minister led the sad
cortege. At the moment when the coffin approached the favorite clock, it
suddenly began to strike; but instead of twelve, it gave out thirteen
strokes, and then followed the melody of a well-known hymn:
"Let us with boldness now proceed
On the dark path to a new life."
The minister, who happened to have been sitting a little while before by
the count's side, just beneath the clock, and had mournfully noticed its
silence after so many years, was thunderstruck, and could not recover
his self-control for some time. The count, on the contrary, saw in the
accident a solemn warning from on high, and henceforth laid aside the
frivolity which he had so far shown in his life as well as in his
principles ("Evening Post" [Germ.], 1840. No. 187).
There are finally certain phenomena belonging to this part of magic,
which have been very generally attributed to an agency in which natural
forces and supernatural beings held a nearly equal share. They suggest
the interesting but difficult question, whether visions and ecstasy can
extend to large numbers of men at once? And yet without some such
supposition the armies in the clouds, the wild huntsman of the Ardennes,
and like appearances cannot well be explained. Here also no little
weight must be attached to ancient superstitions which have become, as
it were, a part of a nation's faith. Thus all Northern Germany has from
the earliest days been familiar with the idea of the great Woden ranging
through its dark forests, at the head of the Walkyries and the heroes
fallen in battle, while his wolves and his raven followed him on his
nightly course. When Christianity changed the old gods of the German
race into devils and demons, Woden became very naturally the wild
huntsman, who was now escorted by men of violence, bloody tyrants, and
criminals, often grievously mutilated or altogether headless. There can
be little doubt but that these visions also rested upon some natural
substructure: exceptional atmospheric disturbances, hurricanes coming
from afar and crashing through mighty forests, or even the modest tramp
of a band of poachers heard afar off, under favorable circumstances by
timid ears. The very fact that the favorite time for such phenomena is
the winter solstice favors this supposition. They are, however, by no
means limited to seasons and days, for as late as 1842 a number of
wheat-cutters left in a panic the field in which they were engaged,
because they believed they heard Frau Holle with her hellish company,
and saw Faithful Eckhard, as he walked steadily before the procession,
warning all he met to stand aside and escape from the fatal sight. An
occurrence of the kind, which took place in 1857, was fortunately fully
explained by careful observers: the cause was an immense flock of wild
geese, whose strange cries resembled in a surprising manner the barking
of a pack of hounds during a hunt. Another occurrence during the night
of January 30, 1849, threw the whole neighborhood of Basle in
Switzerland into painful consternation. The air was suddenly filled with
a multitude of whining voices, whose agony pierced the hearts of all who
heard them; men and beasts seemed to be suffering unutterable anguish,
and to be driven with furious speed from the mountain-side into a valley
near Magden; here all ended in an instant amid rolling thunder and
fearful flashes of lightning. A fierce storm arising in distant clefts
and crevices, and carrying possibly fragments of rock, ice, and moraine
along with it, seems here to have been the determining cause.