Chapter II: Part 2
"I have, upon mature deliberation on the affairs of the English, determined ... that the temples of the idols of that nation ought not to be destroyed; but let the idols that are in them be destroyed, let holy water be made and sprinkled in the said temples, let altars be erected, and relics placed. For if those temples be well built, it is requisite that they be converted from the worship of devils to the service of the true God; that the nation, seeing that the temples are not destroyed, may remove error from their hearts, and knowing and adoring the true God, may the more familiarly resort to the places to which they have been accustomed. And because they have been used to slaughter many oxen in the sacrifices to devils, some solemnity must be exchanged for these on this account, as that on the day of dedication, or the nativities of the holy martyrs whose relics are there deposited, they may build themselves huts of the boughs of trees about those churches which have been turned to that use from temples, and no more offer beasts to the devil, but kill cattle to the praise of God in their eating, and return thanks to the Giver of all things for their sustenance; to the end that, whilst some gratifications are outwardly permitted them, they may the more easily consent to the inward consolations of the grace of God."[27]
In A.D. 726, Pope Gregory II expressed his approval of image-worship, and because the Greek emperor refused to accede to this form of idolatry, he caused the tribute paid to him by Rome to be suspended, and even went to the extent of excommunicating him; and in 789, the second Nicene council re-established and confirmed the adoration of images.
Examples of the influence of these doctrines in the Roman and other churches may be multiplied.
The censers and lustration vessels of the priesthood are copied from the sacrificial vessels which were used in the pagan temples; the woollen fillet was transformed into the priest's amice; and the _lituus_, or curved staff of the soothsayer, became the crozier of the bishop.
The sacred fountains of antiquity were perpetuated in a Christian form by dedication to a saint. Examples of this are afforded by the wells of St. Elian, in Denbighshire; St. Winifred, in Flintshire, &c.
In no respect, however, has the Romish church so closely followed the example of pagan nations, and borrowed from mythology, as in the deification of men, and the adoption of tutelary divinities.
As the mythology of ancient Rome and Greece had its gods who presided over countries, cities, towns, and the numerous actions and duties of man in his civil and religious life, to each of whom worship was offered and altars erected, so also the Romish church encouraged the belief in guardian saints, and in this respect its calendar rivals the Pantheon.
As fully did this church adopt the principle of the deification (_canonization_) of men--one of the most prominent of the characteristics of idolatry.
Thus the Romish calendar contains guardian saints of countries: St. George is the tutelary saint of England; St. Andrew, of Scotland; St. Patrick, of Ireland; St. Denis, of France; and St. Peter, of Flanders. Austria possesses two guardian saints, St. Colman and St. Leopold; Germany has _three_, St. Martin, St. Boniface, and St. George Cataphrastus; and so on of all the countries of Europe.
There are also guardian saints of cities. St. Egidius presides over Edinburgh, St. Nicholas, Aberdeen; St. Peter succeeded Mars at Rome; St. Frideswide, Oxford; St. Genevieve, Paris; St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Januarius, Naples, &c.
Of the general body of tutelary saints the following list will afford an illustration:--
St. Agatha presides over nurses; St. Catherine and St. Gregory over studious persons; St. Christopher, St. Hermus, and St. Nicholas, over mariners; St. Cecilia, over musicians; St. Cosmos and Damian, over physicians, surgeons, and philosophers; St. Dismas and St. Nicholas, over thieves; St. Eustace and St. Hubert, over hunters; St. Felicitas, over young children; St. Julian, over pilgrims; St. Leonard and St. Barbara, over captives; St. Luke, painters; St. Martin and St. Urban over ale-knights, to prevent them falling in the kennel; St. Æthelbert and Ælian are invoked against thieves, &c.
St. Agatha presides over valleys; St. Anne, riches; St. Barbara, hills; St. Florian, fire; St. Sylvester, woods, &c.
St. Thomas presides over divines; St. Thomas à-Becket, blind men; St. Valentine, lovers; St. Winifred, virgins; St. Joseph, carpenters; St. Anthony, swineherds and grocers; St. Arnhold, millers; St. Blaise, wool-combers; St. Catherine, spinners; St. Clement, tanners; St. Cloud, nailsmiths; St. Dunstan, goldsmiths; St. Elry, blacksmiths, farriers, &c.; St. Florian, mercers; St. Francis, butchers; St. George, clothiers; St. Goodman and St. Ann, tailors; St. Gore, potters; St. Hilary, coopers; St. Leodager, drapers; St. Crispin, shoemakers, &c.
St. Anthony protects hogs; St. Ferriol, geese; St. Gertrude, mice and eggs; St. Hubert, dogs; St. Joy, horses, &c.
Numerous saints were invoked against diseases: _e.g._, St. Clara against sore eyes; St. Genow, gout; St. Marus, palsies and convulsions; St. Sigismund, fevers, &c.
"There be many miracles assigned to saints," writes Barnaby Rich, in 1619, "that they say are good for all diseases: they can give sight to the blind, make the deafe to hear; they can restore limbs that be crippled, and make the lame go upright; they be good for horse, swine, and many other beasts. And women, also, have shee-saints.... They have saints to pray to when they be grieved with a third-day ague, when they be pained with toothache, or when they would be revenged on their angry husbands.
"They have saints that be good amongst poultry when they have the pip, for geese when they do sit, to have a happy success in goslings; and, to be short, there is no disease, no sickness, no griefe, either amongst men or beasts, that hath not his physician among the saints."[28]
The Romish church also adopted the pagan belief in apparitions, and as the latter had supported the argument in favour of the existence of the gods by the fiction of their occasional manifestations in a visible form, so the former endeavoured to sustain its dogmas by fables of the apparition, from time to time, of its saints.
It is needless to dwell upon the manner in which this church pandered to the credulity of the people in this respect, for an example is before the world even at the present time in the apparition of the Blessed Virgin near La Salette, a village about four miles from Corps, a small town situated on the road between Grenoble and Gap.
The story is as follows:--On the 19th September, 1846, the Blessed Virgin appeared to two children, the one a boy aged 11, and the other a girl aged 14 years, who were watching cows near a fountain, in the hollow of a ravine in the mountains, about four miles from the church of La Salette. When first seen, she was in a sitting position, the head resting upon the hands, and she "had on white shoes, with roses about her shoes. The roses were of all colours. Her socks were yellow, her apron yellow, and her gown white, with pearls all over it. She had a white neckerchief, with roses round it; a high cap, a little bent in front; a crown round her cap with roses. She had a very small chain, to which was attached a crucifix; on the right were some pincers, on the left a hammer; at the extremities of the cross was another huge chain, which fell, like the roses, round her handkerchief. Her face was white and long."
Addressing the children, tears coursing down her cheeks, she spoke to them on the wickedness of the peasantry, particularly their neglect of the Sabbath and of the duties of Lent, when they "go like dogs to the butchers' stalls." Then she foretold that if the men would not be converted, there should be no potatoes at Christmas, all the corn should be eaten up by animals, or if any did grow up, it should fall to dust when thrashed. There should be a great famine, preceding which "children below seven years of age should have convulsions, and die in the arms of those who held them; and the rest should do penance by hunger. Nuts and grapes also should perish. But if men were converted, then the rocks and stones shall be changed into heaps of corn, and potatoes shall be sown all over the land." "The lady," in addition, confided to each of the children a secret which was not to be told to the other, but which they confided to the Pope in 1851. Then, after a little gossiping conversation, "the lady" vanished.
Soon after this apparition had been noised abroad, it was discovered that the waters of the fountain were possessed of marvellous healing properties, and many miraculous cures were effected by its use. Pilgrims flocked to the scene of the vision, and it is affirmed that in one day 60,000 of the faithful ascended the mountain.
Among others, the present Bishop of Orleans made a pilgrimage to the "holy mountain," and he was so impressed by the solemn feelings excited by treading on such holy ground, that he often ejaculated, "It cannot be but that the finger of God is here." Other ecclesiastics of rank also visited the spot, and the whole affair was officially sanctioned.
Nor did the matter rest here, for churches are being built, and dedicated to "Our Lady of Salette," in different countries; and a society has been established in England bearing her name.
We have already alluded to the sacred fountains of heathen nations, and in the holy fountain of Salette we witness the modern development of a similar superstition. So also in the apparition of the Virgin the same credulity is traced which prompted the ancients to believe in the occasional appearance of their deities.
It is related that Castor and Pollux, the sons of Jupiter, by Leda the wife of Tyndarus, were seen fighting at the battle of Regillus; and that, subsequently, mounted on white horses, they appeared to P. Vatienus, as he journeyed by night to Rome, from his government of Reate, and told him that King Perses had that day been taken prisoner.
On these legends Cicero remarks; "Do you believe that the Tyndaridæ, as you called them, that is, men sprung from men, and buried in Lacedemon, as we learn from Homer, who lived in the next age,--do you believe, I say, that they appeared to Vatienus on the road, mounted on white horses, without any servant to attend them, to tell the victory of the Romans to a country fellow rather than to M. Cato, who was that time the chief person of the senate? Do you take that print of a horse's hoof, which is now to be seen on a stone at Regillus, to be made by Castor's horse? Should you not believe, what is probable, that the souls of eminent men, such as the Tyndaridæ, are divine and immortal, rather than that those bodies, which had been reduced to ashes, should mount on horses and fight in an army? If you say that was possible, you ought to show how it is so, and not amuse us with fabulous stories."
"Do you take these for fabulous stories?" says Balbus. "Is not the temple built by Posthumius in honour of Castor and Pollux, to be seen in the Forum? Is not the decree of the senate concerning Vatienus still subsisting?... Ought not such authorities to move you?"
"You oppose me," replies Cotta, "with stories, but I ask reasons of you."[29]
It would seem then that the parallelism is perfect, even to the building of temples, and the official recognition of the truth of the event.
Of the individual personages of ancient mythology very few traces remain in England, and these principally belong to the fairy belief. This superstition, of which the analogue is found in the Nymphs, Oreads, Dryads, Naiads, Lemoniads, and Nerieds, of ancient Greece and Rome, is still prevalent in certain districts of this country; and the extinction of the general belief, among the lower orders, of one of the most noted of the personages which are met with in fairy lore, the _hobgoblin_, is comparatively of recent date. The name is, however, still familiar, and in use for certain vague manifestations of the supernatural, although the actual signification of the term is, to a great extent, lost sight of.
The hobgoblin is worthy of notice not only for its intrinsic interest, but also for the illustration which it affords of the intimate relationship which is often found to exist between the superstitions of different and even far distant nations.
This spirit, in his palmy days, was that fairy which attached itself to houses, and the neighbourhood of dwellings and churches (for even sacred edifices were not exempted from its influence). In disposition it was mischievous and sportive, although it often deigned, during the night, to perform many menial offices, and whatsoever building it attached itself to prospered. It was apt to take offence, particularly if, as a reward, money or clothes were placed for it in that part of the house it most frequented; but it was partial to cream, or some delicately prepared eatable, and any housewife who was careful to conciliate the spirit by administering to this taste, was certain to be well rewarded. As might be anticipated, it was a favourite character with poets, and descriptions of its propensities and actions abound. Thus, in the "Midsummer Night's Dream" (Act II, Sc. 1), one of the Fairies is represented as addressing this spirit, and saying:--
"Either I mistake your shape and making quite,
Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite
Called Robin Goodfellow. Are you not he
That frights the maidens of the villagery,
Skims milk, and labours in the quern,
And bootless makes the breathless housewife churn;
And sometimes makes the drink to bear no barm;
Misleads night-wanderers, laughing at their harm?
Those that Hobgoblin call you and sweet Puck,
You do their work and they shall have good luck,
Are not you he?
_Puck._ Thou speakest aright,
I am that merry wanderer of the night.
I jest to Oberon, and make him smile,
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
Neighing in likeness of a filly-foal;
And sometimes lurk I in a gossip's bowl,
In very likeness of a roasted crab,
And when she drinks against her lips I bob,
And on her withered dewlap pour the ale.
The wisest aunt telling the saddest tale,
Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;
Then slip I from her bum, down topples she,
And _tailor_ cries, and falls into a cough;
And then the whole quire hold their hips and loffe,
And waxen in their mirth, and reeze, and swear
A merrier hour was never wasted there."
Milton, in the "L'Allegro," writes of him in a different office, and--
"Tells how the drudging goblin sweat,
To earn his cream-bowl duly set,
When in one night ere glimpse of morn,
His shadowy flail has thrashed the corn,
That ten day-lab'rers could not end:
Then lies him down the lubber-fiend,
And stretched out all the chimney's length,
Basks at the fire his hairy strength,
And cropfull out of doors he flings,
Ere the first cock his matin rings."
Another noted characteristic of this fairy is mentioned in the fine old song of Ben Johnson's:--
"When house or hearth doth sluttish lye,
I pinch the maidens black and blue;
The bed-clothes from the bed pull I,
And lay them naked all to view.
Twixt sleepe and wake
I do them take
And on the key-cold floor them throw:
If out they cry
Then forth I fly,
And loudly laugh out, ho! ho! ho!"
The hobgoblin is one of the widest-spread forms of fairy belief. In England it is also termed _Boggard_, _Puck_, _Robin Goodfellow_, and _Robin Hood_; it is the _Brownie_ of Scotland; the _Cluricaune_, _Luricaune_, _Leprochaune_, &c., of Ireland; the _Kobold_ of Germany; the _Servant_ of Switzerland; the _Nis_ of Denmark and Norway; the _Niägruiser_ of the Feroes; the _Tomt-gubbe_, or _Tont_, of Sweden; the _Phynnoderee_ of the Isle of Man; the _Monaciello_ of Naples; the _Duende_ of Spain; the _Lutin_, or _Gobelin_, of France; and the _Para_ of Finland appears to have some affinity with it.
The derivation of some of the principal names of this fairy is also of interest. From the Sclavonic _Bôg_, signifying _God_, come the words _boggard_ and _boggart_; the Scottish _Bogle_, a hill-fairy; and probably, also, the words _Bug-bear_ and _Bugaboo_; and from the Icelandic _Puki_, an evil spirit, come the English _Puke_, a devil, as also _Puck_; the Friesland _Puk_; the German _Putz_, or _Butz_; the Devonshire _Pixie_; the Irish _Pouke_; the Welsh _Pwcca_, and the words _big_ and _bug_,--all names of certain varieties of the fairy-belief, and having the signification of an evil spirit.
Certain forms of pagan worship would appear to have been perpetuated unmodified in Christian countries even to the present time. A remarkable and singular illustration of this is found in Ireland.
Off the north-west coast of that kingdom are situated the islands of Inniskea, containing a population of about 400 human beings. Nominally the inhabitants are Christians, and under Roman Catholic tuition; in reality, they observe the ancient forms of Irish clan government, and are idolaters, worshipping rocks and stones. Their chief god is a stone idol termed _Nee-vougi_, which has been preserved from time immemorial. It is clothed in homespun flannel, which arises from the custom of its votaries offering portions of their dress when addressing it. These fragments are sewed upon it by an old woman who has charge of the idol, and who officiates as priestess. It is invoked, among other things, to dash helpless ships upon the coast, and to calm the sea in order that the fishing may be successful.[30]
The adoration of rocks and stone pillars is one of the most ancient forms of idolatry on record. It probably took its origin from the custom of erecting stone pillars as a memorial, and consecrating them as altars on any extraordinary event or occasion. The earliest mention of this custom is found in Genesis (cxxviii, v. 10):--
"And Jacob rose up early in the morning, and took up the stone he had put for his pillow, and set it up for a pillar, and poured oil upon the top of it.
"And he called the name of that place Beth-El ... saying ... this stone which I have set up for a pillar shall be God's house."
Stones thus erected as memorials, and consecrated as altars, in the course of time were considered to be the abode of, or rather to be filled with, the divine power, which had manifested itself there; and ultimately stone pillars were used as symbols of the Deity. Singularly formed rocks and stones were also regarded in a similar light; and traces of this very ancient form of idolatry may be found in all parts of the world.
The "_animated stones_" of antiquity, which received divine honours, derived their names from Beth-El, as for example, Baithulia, Bethyllia, and Βαιτολια, signifying consecrated or living stones; and one of the modifications of Jupiter, _Jupiter Lapis_ (a stone), was derived from this form of idolatry, and the most solemn of the Roman oaths was that taken in the name of this god.
Numerous traces of superstition are found scattered throughout England, and the countries of Western Europe, which are the lineal, although degenerated descendants of the superstitions of the mythological era of the respective nations, or rather races, dwelling there.
There are few large towns in Great Britain which do not contain one or more persons who profess to practise astrology, magic, or divination--_wise men_, as they are popularly designated; and the belief in charms and omens is far from being eradicated among a large mass of the population, particularly among those who dwell in secluded or mountainous districts.
Not unfrequently events happen by which we may gauge the extent to which these superstitions are still entertained. Those who marked the effect which the appearance of the late comet had on the minds of many in this country, would perceive that a somewhat powerful feeling of superstitious dread, on the occurrence of remarkable celestial events, remained. The alarm excited among the credulous in England was, however, if anything, less marked than that caused in many parts of the continent[31] and in America.
Three years ago we had an opportunity of witnessing a singular exhibition of fear, which was excited in the inhabitants of the most impoverished districts of Leeds, by the prevalence of a brilliant display of the aurora borealis. The scene paralleled the descriptions recorded of the effects produced by similar phenomena in the Middle Ages. The prevailing impression was, that the world was on the point of, if not in, the actual process of destruction; and in many the alarm became extreme, when, during the most magnificent period of the phenomena, several of the streamers became of a deep crimson and blue tint.
This display of the aurora extended over a vast extent of country, and a singular example of the feelings with which it was regarded in Spain was recorded at the time in the daily papers.
On the evening on which it occurred, it so happened that the subject of the homily in one of the churches of Madrid was the destruction of the world, and the day of judgment. At the conclusion of the service, and as the congregation were issuing from the church, the northern heavens were glowing with the brilliant and ever-varying light of the aurora. Startled by a phenomenon which is of somewhat rare occurrence in Spain, the idea at once occurred that the terrible events upon which the priest had been descanting were about to come to pass; the people rushed back to the steps of the altar, and while the aurora continued, the terror and confusion beggared all description.
Another indication of the influence which the superstitions we have named exercise on the minds of certain classes, is the number of works on astrology, principally reprints, which have issued from the press during the last eight or nine years.
This ancient superstition, which is still practised by the Mahomedans, Chinese, &c., retains a hold upon the minds of many, even now. Its practice in this country is, however, most frequently combined with some of the minor forms of magic and divination; and those who profess a knowledge of these arts chiefly direct them to the ignoble purpose of detecting stolen articles.
In America, it would seem, from the advertisements which from time to time appear in the newspapers, that this superstition is flourishing with some vigour. We subjoin, in a note, specimens of these advertisements.[32]
The belief in charms and omens, which was one of the most important of the superstitions of antiquity, is still entertained by the lower orders in many counties, and it forms one of the most striking features of the current folk-lore.
The Devonshire peasant will recite the 8th Psalm on three consecutive days, for three weeks, over his child, in order to prevent its being attacked with the thrush; and should the disease, notwithstanding this precaution, occur, he either plucks three rushes from a running stream, passes them through the mouth of the child, and then casts them into the stream, believing that the disease will decrease and disappear as the rushes float away; or seizing a duck, he will force it to open wide its bill, and then placing it close to the mouth of the child, he hopes to see the affection vanish as the duck inhales the infant's breath.
The peasantry of Norfolk, Northampton, &c. have, for the prevention of epileptic fits, implicit confidence in a ring made from nine sixpences, obtained, by gift, from persons of the opposite sex, or from the money contributed at the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper.
There is a charm for cramp in the leg which must be familiar to most persons. It runs thus:--
"The devil is tying a knot in my leg!
Mark, Luke, and John, unloose it, I beg!
Crosses three we make to ease us,
Two for the thieves, and one for Christ Jesus."
This formula, with a little modification, was applicable also to other fleeting but painful affections. Coleridge states that when he was at the Blue-coat School there was a charm for one's foot when asleep, which ran thus:--
"Foot, foot, foot! is fast asleep!
Thumb, thumb, thumb! in spittle we steep;
Crosses three we make to ease us," &c.
We have seen a charm for the toothache, which we believe has now fallen into desuetude, but which, from its singularity, is worthy of preservation. It is as follows:--
"In the name of God: Amen.
"As Jesus Christ passed through the gates of Jerusalem, he heard one of his disciples weeping and wailing. Jesus saith unto him, Simon Peter, why weepest and wailest thou? Simon Peter saith unto him: Lord, the pain in my tooth is so grievous, I can do nothing. Jesus saith unto him: Arise, Simon, and the pain in thy tooth shall be eased; and whosoever shall keep those words in remembrance or writing shall never be troubled with the pain in the tooth:--
"In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen."
The coral and bells which are suspended round the necks of children for their amusement, were originally used with very different intentions.
Those who professed the occult sciences attributed several very wonderful properties to coral, it being regarded by them as a preservative against evil spirits, poison, and certain diseases.
The ringing of bells was also, formerly, considered to be of great effect in terrifying and causing evil spirits to fly away. Nor did their influence cease there; they were esteemed efficacious for the dispersion of tempests; or, it would be more correct to say, that a cotemporary superstition was, that tempests, thunder and lightning, and high winds, were caused by evil spirits, or devils, who in this manner endeavoured to wreak their rage on man; hence, in the Golden Legend of Wynken de Worde, it is said that "evil spirytes that ben in the region of th' ayre, dowt much when they hear the bells rongen, an this is the cause why the bells ben rongen when it thondreth, and whanne great tempests and outrages of wether happen, to the ende that the feinds and wycked spirytes should be abashed and flee, and cease of the movynge of tempest." This superstition probably dates from the period when it became customary to exorcise, bless, and baptize the bells suspended in churches,--a custom which originated in the tenth century.
The use of the coral and bells was derived from these superstitions, and they were at first suspended from the neck as an amulet which was protective from the influence of evil spirits.
Certain events are still regarded as omens by the peasantry in many districts.
If a magpie cross our path, it is said that we shall prove unlucky, unless we immediately cross ourselves; and an old rhyme says of the magpie:--
"One is a sign of sorrow; two are a sign of mirth;
Three are a sign of a wedding; and four a sign of a birth."
In Devonshire, if a person sees four magpies, it is regarded as an omen of death in his family. If a pigeon is seen sitting on a tree, or comes into the house; or if a swarm of bees alight on a dead tree, or the dead bough of a living tree, it forebodes death in the family of the owner. In Derbyshire, if the sun shines through the boughs of the apple-trees on Christmas day, it is considered as a presage of a good crop the ensuing year.
Of all the superstitions entertained previous to the advent of Christ, none have, however, been more fully perpetuated among Christian nations than that of spectral apparitions,--the visible appearance of the deities worshipped, or of the disembodied spirits of the dead--_ghosts_.
This was due not only to the nature of the causes inducing spectral apparitions (causes which are inseparable from the physical constitution of man), but also to the confirmation which the belief was thought to receive from Holy Writ.
The character of the superstition, as it has been retained down to the verge of the present period in our own country, and as it is still entertained in many countries, is very similar to that which it bore in the remotest periods of antiquity.
The deities of those nations who had distinct and defined ideas respecting their gods, are reputed to have appeared from time to time to their votaries, assuming the form in which they were most commonly pourtrayed in the temples.
Thus the gods which Æneas bore from the destruction of Troy and carried into Crete, appeared to him in that island:
"'Twas night, when every creature, void of cares,
The common gift of balmy slumbers shares;
The statues of my gods (for such they seem'd),
Those gods whom I from flaming Troy redeem'd,
Before me stood, majestically bright,
Full in the beams of Phœbe's entering light.
Then thus they spoke and eased my troubled mind:
'What from the Delian god thou go'st to find,
He tells thee here, and sends us to relate.
Those powers are we, companions of thy fate,
Who from the burning town by thee were brought,
Thy fortune follow'd, and thy safety wrought.
Through seas and lands, as we thy steps attend,
So shall our care thy glorious race befriend.
An ample realm for thee thy fates ordain,
A town that o'er the conquer'd world shall reign.
Thou, mighty walls for mighty nations build;
Nor let thy weary mind to labours yield:
But change thy seat; for not the Delian god
Nor we have given thee Crete for our abode.
A land there is, Hesperia call'd of old,
(The soil is fruitful, and the natives bold--
Th' Œotrians held it once), by later fame
Now call'd Italia from the leader's name.
Iasius there, and Dardanus, were born;
From thence we came and thither must return.
Rise, and thy sire with these glad tidings greet:
Search Italy; for Jove denies thee Crete.'
Astonished at their voices and their sight,
(Nor were they dreams, but visions of the night;
I saw, I knew their faces, and descry'd,
In perfect view, their hair with fillets tied),
I started from my couch; a clammy sweat
On all my limbs, and shivering body, sate.
To heaven I lift my hands with pious haste,
And sacred incense in the flames I cast."[33]
Among Christian nations visions of this character have also been common; and the religious writings of every age of the Church contain numerous instances of apparitions of the Trinity, of our Lord, of the canonized, and the powers of evil.
But the most familiar phase of the ghost-belief is that of the visible manifestation of the spirits of the dead; and probably few, if any, races are without a superstition of this nature.
The Grecians and Romans believed that the souls of the dead (_manes_) roamed about the earth, having power to interfere with the affairs of man and inflict evil. The spirits of those who had been virtuous during life were distinguished by the name of _lares_ (under which name we have in a previous page alluded to them as tutelary deities) or _manes_; and the spirits of the wicked were termed _larvæ_, or _lemures_, and often terrified the good, and haunted the wicked and impious. These ghosts were also deified, and they were known as the _Dii Manes_; and the stones erected over the graves in Roman burial-grounds had usually inscribed upon them the letters D.M., or D.M.S., that is, _Dîs Manibus_, or _Dîs Manibus Sacrum_,--"Sacred to the Manes Gods." Sacrifices were offered to these deities, the offerings being termed _religiosæ_, in contradistinction to those offered to the superior gods, which were denominated _sacræ_; and during the festivals held in honour of the ghosts (_Lemuria_ or _Lemuralia_), it was customary to burn black beans over the graves, and to beat kettles and drums, in order that, by the noxious odour of the former, and the noise of the latter, the ghosts might be frightened away, and no longer terrify their relations.
We have already given several examples illustrative of the parallelism which exists between the accounts we possess of the apparitions of Grecian and Roman deities, and those manifestations of celestial personages which are recorded to have occurred in more modern times. A similar resemblance exists between the accounts given of the spectral appearance of the spirits of the dead.
In the Odyssey (B. XI), Ulysses, previous to descending into hell, is described as offering "solemn rites and holy vows" to the dead:--
"When lo! appear'd along the dusky coasts,
Thin, airy shoals of visionary ghosts;
Fair, pensive youths, and soft, enamour'd maids;
And wither'd elders, pale and wrinkled shades
Ghastly with wounds, the form of warriors slain
Stalk'd with majestic port, a martial train:
These and a thousand more swarm'd o'er the ground,
And all the dire assembly shriek'd around."
A striking illustration of the similarity of ancient and modern ghost-stories, in all essential points, is contained in the description given in the Æneis (B. II) of the apparition of the ghost of Hector to Æneas, at the destruction of Troy:--
"'Twas in the dead of night, when sleep repairs
Our bodies worn with toils, our minds with cares,
When Hector's ghost before my sight appears:
A bloody shroud he seem'd, and bath'd in tears;
Such as he was when by Pelides slain,
Thessalian coursers dragg'd him o'er the plain;
Swoll'n were his feet, as when the thongs were thrust
Through the bored holes; his body black with dust;
Unlike that Hector, who return'd from toils
Of war, triumphant in Æacians' spoils,
Or him, who made the fainting Greeks retire,
And launch'd against their navy Phrygian fire.
His hair and beard stood stiffen'd with his gore,
And all the wounds he for his country bore
Now streamed afresh, and with new purple ran."
An equally, if not more marked example, is recorded by Pliny, the consul at Sura.
A house at Athens was grievously haunted by a spirit, which, during the night, restlessly roamed through the apartments, dragging, apparently, a heavy chain after it. Athenodorus, the philosopher, hired the house, determined to reduce the spirit to order and silence. In the depth of the night, while pursuing his studies, the silence was broken by the noise of rattling chains, which approached the room where he sat. Presently, a spectre entered, and beckoned to him, but the philosopher took no notice. The spectre agitated its chains anew, and then he arose and, following his ghostly guide, he was led into the court-yard of the house, to a certain spot, when the spectre vanished. He marked the place, and on the following day caused the ground to be dug up and searched, when beneath it they found the skeleton of a man in chains. The bones were publicly burned, and from that time the spirit ceased to haunt the mansion.
A belief in ghosts was one of the most prominent of the superstitions of the ancient inhabitants of Northern Europe. It was customary with the Scandinavians, as with the Grecians, to perform certain ceremonies at the tombs of the dead, to propitiate the ghosts, and facilitate their entrance into the halls of bliss.
The ghosts of the departed warriors, after they had entered their airy halls, were supposed to pursue pleasures similar in character to those which had engaged their attention on earth. They listened to the strains of immortal bards; followed the chase over the illimitable fields of heaven; visited the scenes of their former glories; and when resting within their tombs, they would talk of mortal men, and sing the songs of other worlds. Airy and unsubstantial as a wreath of mist, they often wandered on the surface of the earth. The ghost of a mighty hero, clothed in a panoply of lurid clouds, and armed with a meteor, might be seen brooding o'er his tomb, or attended "by a ridge of formless shades," it swept across former battle-fields. The men of bygone days, wreathed in their vapoury robes, and reposing on clouds, hovered on the midnight blast, which bore in its mighty cadences the echoing sounds of the voices of the dead; or "like the new moon seen through the gathered mist, when the sky pours down its flaky snow, and the world is silent and dark,"[34] the spirits of the maidens glided over the rugged hills, or roamed on the pebbly shore.
The early Scandinavian traditions and historical writings, are pregnant with ghosts and other supernatural agents. Mr. Howitt[35] quotes from one of the Eddaic songs, which records the lives of a hero named Helge and his wife Sigrun, the following singularly interesting scene.
Helge died, and the body was laid in its cairn. In the evening Sigrun's maid passed the cairn, and saw the ghost of Helge ride into it with a numerous train. Addressing the ghost, the maid said, "Is it an illusion that I see, or the Eve of the Mighty, that ye ride your horses and urge them with your spurs? Or are the heroes bound for their homes?" The ghost replied, "It is no illusion which thou seest, nor the Eve of the Mighty; though thou seest us, and we urge our horses with our spurs; neither are the heroes bound for their homes."
The maid then went to her mistress and said, "Haste thee, Sigrun, from the hill of Seva, if the leader of the battle thou desirest to see. Open is the cairn; Helge is come; the war-scars bleed. Helge bade thee to still his dripping wound." Sigrun went to the cairn, and entering it, said to the shade of her dead husband, "Now am I as joyful of our meeting as Odin's ravens when, long-fasting, they scent the warm food, or the day-wearied when they behold the close of day. I will kiss my lifeless king before thou throwest off thy bloody cuirass. Thy hair, O Helge! is pierced through with frost, or with the dew of death is the hero slain. Cold are the hands of the friend of Högne. How, therefore, King, shall I find a cure for thee?"--"Thou only, Sigrun! on the hill of Seva," replied the ghost, "art the cause that Helge is here, slain by the dew of sorrow. Thou weepest, gold-adorned one! burning tears, maid of the sun-glowing south! Before thou sleepest, every tear shall fall bloody on the breast of the Prince, pierced through with the cold of thy grief. But we will drink the precious mead together, though we have lost gladness and lands. Yet no one sings a song of woe, though he sees a wound in my breast. Now are the brides closed in the cairns, and the princely maidens are laid beside us."
Sigrun made a bed in the cairn, and said, "Here have I, Helge, prepared rest for thee; rest free from all trouble. Son of the Ylfinga! I will sleep in thy arms as formerly, when my hero lived." The ghost answered, "No longer will I say that thou art unfaithful on the hill of Seva. Since thou sleepest in the embrace of the dead in the cairn, thou fair daughter of Högur! And yet thou livest, offspring of kings! Time is to ride the red ways. Let the pale steed tramp the steeps of the air. In the west must we be, by the bridge Vindhjalen, ere the cock in Walhalla wakes the sons of victory."
In the Eyrbyggja Saga (written before A.D. 1264; period when the events recorded occurred, A.D. 883) is an account of certain spectral apparitions which followed the death of a lady whose commands upon the death-bed had not been obeyed. This story is almost unique in character, and it is a singularly interesting example of the ghost-belief of Iceland at an early period.
On the evening of the day when the corpse was being removed to a distant place of sepulture, an apparition of the lady was seen busily preparing victuals in the kitchen of the house where the bearers reposed for the night. On the night when the conductors of the funeral returned home, a spectral appearance resembling a half-moon glided around the boarded walls of the mansion, in a direction opposite to that of the sun, and continued its revolutions until the domestics retired to rest. "This apparition was renewed every night during the whole week, and was pronounced by Thorer with the wooden leg to presage pestilence and mortality." Shortly after, a herdsman showed signs of being persecuted by demons, and one morning he was found dead in bed, "and then" (to quote literally from Sir Walter Scott's abstract of the Saga) "commenced a scene of ghost-seeing unheard of in the annals of superstition. The first victim was Thorer, who had presaged the calamity. Going out of doors one evening, he was grappled by the spectre of the deceased shepherd as he attempted to re-enter the house. His wooden leg stood him in poor stead in such an encounter; he was hurled to the earth and so fearfully beaten that he died in consequence of the bruises. Thorer was no sooner dead than his ghost associated itself to that of the herdsman, and joined him in pursuing and assaulting the inhabitants of Froda. Meantime an infectious disorder spread fast amongst them, and several of the bondsmen died one after the other. Strange portents were seen within doors, the meal was displaced and mingled, and the dried fish flung about in a most alarming manner, without any visible agent. At length, while the servants were forming their evening circle around the fire, a spectre resembling the head of a seal-fish was seen to emerge out of the pavement of the room, bending its round black eyes full on the tapestried bed-curtains of Thorgunna (the deceased lady). Some of the domestics ventured to strike at the figure; but, far from giving way, it rather erected itself further from the floor, until Kiartan, who seemed to have a natural predominance over these supernatural prodigies, seizing a huge forge-hammer, struck the seal repeatedly on the head, and compelled it to disappear, forcing it down into the floor, as if he had driven a stake into the earth. This prodigy was found to intimate a new calamity. Thorodd, the master of the family, had some time before set forth on a voyage to bring home a cargo of dried fish; but, in crossing the river Enna, the skiff was lost, and he perished with the servants who attended him. A solemn funeral feast was held at Froda, in memory of the deceased, when, to the astonishment of the guests, the apparition of Thorodd and his followers seemed to enter the apartment dripping with water. Yet this vision excited less horror than might have been expected; for the islanders, though nominally Christians, retained, among other superstitions, a belief that the spectres of such drowned persons as had been favourably received by the goddess Rana were wont to show themselves at their funeral feast. They saw, therefore, with some composure, Thorodd and his dripping attendants plant themselves by the fire, from which all mortal guests retreated to make room for them. It was supposed this apparition would not be renewed after the conclusion of the festival. But so far were their hopes disappointed, that, so soon as the mourning guests had departed, the fires being lighted, Thorodd and his comrades marched in on one side, drenched as before with water; on the other entered Thorer, heading all those who had died in the pestilence, and who appeared covered with dust. Both parties seized the seats by the fire, while the half-frozen and terrified domestics spent the night without either light or warmth. The same phenomenon took place the next night, though the fires had been lighted in a separate house, and at length Kiartan was obliged to compound matters with the spectres by kindling a large fire for them in the principal apartment, and one for the family and domestics in a separate hut. This prodigy continued during the whole feast of Jol. Other portents also happened to appal this devoted family; the contagious disease again broke forth, and when any one fell a sacrifice to it, his spectre was sure to join the troop of persecutors, who had now almost full possession of the mansion of Froda. Thorgrima Galldrakinna, wife of Thorer, was one of these victims; and, in short, of thirty servants belonging to the household, eighteen died, and five fled for fear of the apparitions, so that only seven remained in the service of Kiartan."
The trouble and annoyance from the spectres had now reached so serious a pitch that, by the advice of a maternal uncle, Kiartan instituted judicial measures against the spectres.
"A tribunal being then constituted, with the usual legal solemnities, a charge was preferred by Kiartan against Thorer with the wooden leg, by Thordo Kausa against Thorodd, and by others chosen as accusers against the individual spectres present, accusing them of molesting the mansion, and introducing death and disease among its inhabitants. All the solemn rites of judicial procedure were observed on this singular occasion; evidence was adduced, charges given, and the cause formally decided. It does not appear that the ghosts put themselves on their defence, so that sentence of ejectment was pronounced against them individually in due and legal form. When Thorer heard the judgment, he arose, and saying, 'I have sat while it was lawful for me to do so,' left the apartment by the door opposite to that at which the judicial assembly was constituted. Each of the spectres, as they heard their individual sentence, left the place, saying something which indicated their unwillingness to depart, until Thorodd himself was solemnly appointed to depart. 'We have here no longer,' said he, 'a peaceful dwelling, therefore will we remove.' Kiartan then entered the hall with his followers, and the priest, with holy water, and celebration of a solemn mass, completed the conquest over the goblins, which had been commenced by the power and authority of the Icelandic law."
The spectral phenomena of the ancient Swedish folk-lore differs in no respect from the current histories of recent date. An interesting example of this is found in the beautiful ballad of Sir Ulf and Lady Sölfverlind.
Sir Ulf was a nobleman who had married a wife from a foreign country. After they had lived together eight years, and had had a family of three children, the Lady Sölfverlind died. In a short time he married again, and by his second wife, the Lady Stineborg, he had also several children. This lady, however, proved a cruel step-mother; for, as the ballad reads:--
"Lady Stineborg's children went out to play,
Lady Sölfverlind's children sate weeping all day.
This know we of Ulf.
The youngest child it wept so loud,
That it woke its mother beneath the sod.
This know we of Ulf.
Lady Sölfverlind spoke to the angel-band:
'Is it granted to visit the earthly land?'
This know we of Ulf.
'It is granted from heaven to earth to go,
But thou must return ere the first cock crow.'
This know we of Ulf.
She came to the door, she tirled at the pin;
'Rise up, my children, and let me in.'
This know we of Ulf.
'On sticks and stones why lie you thus?'
'Nothing besides is given to us.'
This know we of Ulf.
'Why look ye, my children, so grim and so grey?'
'We have not been washed since thou went away.'
This know we of Ulf.
'Rise up, Lady Stineborg, hearken to me,
For I have a few words to speak unto thee!'
This know we of Ulf.
'I left behind me both upland and low,
Yet now my children must supperless go.'
This know we of Ulf.
'I left behind me both oxen and kine,
Yet now they go barefoot, these children of mine.'
This know we of Ulf.
'I left soft down pillows, full many a one,
Now hard sticks and stones are the bed they lie on!'
This know we of Ulf.
'Hadst thou to my children shown tenderness sweet,
God the Father in heaven had found thee a seat!'
This know we of Ulf.
'Have thy children in me a hard step-mother known?
Henceforth will I love them as well as my own!'
This know we of Ulf.
There ne'er was a lovelier sight in the sky,
Than Sölfverlind taking her children on high.
This know we of Ulf."[36]
The ghost-belief of Hindostan is one of the most important of the popular superstitions of that country. It differs from that of more westerly countries in the degree of reality with which the natives have invested it; for while the former look upon the interference of the spirits of the dead in the events of ordinary life as a circumstance of rare occurrence, and regard manifestations of this nature with an awe befitting their solemnity and supernatural character, the latter lives in an atmosphere of spectral beings, which are the spirits of those who have lived a wicked life on earth, and retain their malignant disposition unabated after death, if indeed it is not increased in intensity by the devil-like nature they assume, and exercise their evil powers in all the affairs of life, haunting the localities which they previously inhabited, and terrifying and tormenting alike friend and foe. Neither are their terrors confined to mere occasional apparition, and to the fear excited by this, but to the power which they possess of interference by physical force; for they belabour with blows, or grievously affect with bodily ailments, the unhappy individuals whom they haunt, and often subject to inexpressible tortures those who have had the ill-hap to offend them. Hence the Hindoo dreads a ghost not so much on account of its supernatural character, abstractedly considered, as for the physical evil it may inflict upon him.
The ghosts of the wicked, and of the unmarried (as it is thought in some provinces), are alone permitted to wander on earth, and they have a partiality, like our own ghosts, for frequenting solitary places, woods, caverns, and ruins, from which they issue to exercise their baleful powers on man.
Sometimes a ghost will haunt a certain house, or a plot of ground, and become so obstreperous, that the occupier of the house is obliged to desert it, and the proprietor of the land to allow it to become waste. But it has happened that if the spirit was that of an old proprietor, a deed executed in its name has appeased it, and it has no more troubled the place.
These spirits are called, in the Deccan, _Vîrikas_, and in the more southerly parts of India, _Paisâchi_. It is customary to erect small shrines to them, formed of a pile of stones, on the top of which is a sheltered cavity, containing an image, or a rough, shapeless stone, to which offerings of cloth, rice, &c., are presented from time to time. This propitiatory sacrifice is, in general, found to be an efficient method of obtaining immunity from the malignant pranks of the ghosts; but if it be neglected, they will visit the unfortunate sinner with torments and misfortune, or, appearing to him by night, intimate the miseries hanging over his head, unless he quickly amends himself, and offers up the necessary gifts.
Dr. Buchanan relates a story of the apparition of a _Paisâchi_ which occurred during his journey in Mysore. His cook had been taken ill, and died; orders had been given to secure his effects for the benefit of his wife and children, "but on inspection, after his death, no money could be found. Whether he had been plundered as soon as he became insensible, and that a guilty conscience occasioned fears among his companions, or whether the sudden manner of his death occasioned suspicions, I cannot say; but it was immediately believed that he would become a _Paisâchi_, and all my people were filled with terror. The butler imagined that the _Paisâchi_ appeared to him at night with a black silk handkerchief tied round its head, and gave him instructions to take all the effects of the deceased to his family; upon this, the latter, being a man of courage, put his shoes on the right side of the door, which he considered to be a sure preventive against such intruders. Next night a cattle-driver, lying in all the agonies of nocturnal terror, saw the appearance of a dog enter, and smell round the place where the man had died; when, to his utter dismay, the spectre gradually grew larger and larger, and at length, having assumed the form of the cook, vanished with a shriek. The poor man had not the courage to use the slippers, but lay till morning in a kind of stupor. After this, even the minds of the _sepoys_ were appalled, and when I happened to be awake I heard the sentries, by way of keeping up their courage, singing with a tremulous voice."
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Fiends, Ghosts, and SpritesChapter II: Part 2
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