Chapter VI: Appendix (4)

There is said to be an Eastern legend somewhat like the story of Amys and Amylion; with a touch of the ancient Egyptian and Mexican legends already cited. “The Arabian chronicler speaks of a king, who, having lost a faithful servant by his transformation into stone, is told that he can call his friend back to life, if he is willing to behead his two children, and to sprinkle the ossified figure with their blood. He makes up his mind to the sacrifice; but as he approaches the children with his drawn sword, the will is accepted by heaven for the deed, and he suddenly sees the stone restored to animation.”[243] This story, in substance, (only with the slaying and the resuscitating of the children, as in the English romance,) appears in Grimm’s folk-lore tales, under the title of “Faithful John”;[244] but whether its origin was in the East or in the North, or in both quarters, is not apparent. Its reappearance East, North, and West, is all the more noteworthy.

In the romances of King Arthur and his knights, there is a story of a maiden daughter of King Pellinore, a sister of Sir Percivale, who befriends the noble Sir Galahad, and then accompanies him and his companions on their way to the castle of Carteloise, and beyond, in their search for the Holy Grail.

“And again they went on to another castle, from which came a band of knights, who told them of the custom of the place, that every maiden who passed by must yield a dish full of her blood. ‘That shall she not do,’ said Galahad, ‘while I live’; and fierce was the struggle that followed; and the sword of Galahad, which was the sword of King David, smote them down on every side, until those who remained alive craved peace, and bade Galahad and his fellows come into the castle for the night; ‘and on the morn,’ they said, ‘we dare say ye will be of one accord with us, when ye know the reason for our custom?’ So awhile they rested, and the knights told them that in the castle there lay a lady sick to death, who might never gain back her life, until she should be anointed with the blood of a pure maiden who was a king’s daughter. Then said Percivale’s sister, ‘I will yield it, and so shall I get health to my soul, and there shall be no battle on the morn.’ And even so was it done; but the blood which she gave was so much that she might not live; and as her strength passed away, she said to Percivale, ‘I die, brother, for the healing of this lady.’ ... Thus was the lady of the castle healed; and the gentle maiden, [Percivale’s sister,] ... died.”[245]

In the old Scandinavian legends, there are indications of the traditional belief in the power of transferred life through a bath of blood. Siegfried, or Sigurd, a descendant of Odin, slew Fafner, a dragon-shaped guardian of ill-gotten treasure. In the hot blood of that dragon, he bathed himself, and so took on, as it were, an outer covering of new life, rendering himself sword-proof, save at a single point where a leaf of the linden-tree fell between his shoulders, and shielded the flesh from the life-imparting blood.[246] On this incident it is, that the main tragedy in the Nibelungen Lied pivots; where Siegfried’s wife, Kriemhild, tells the treacherous Hagan of her husband’s one vulnerable point:

“Said she, My husband’s daring, and thereto stout of limb;
Of old, when on the mountain he slew the dragon grim,
In its blood he bathed him, and thence no more can feel,
In his charmed person, the deadly dint of steel.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
“As from the dragon’s death-wounds gushed out the crimson gore,
With the smoking torrent, the warrior washed him o’er.
A leaf then ’twixt his shoulders fell from the linden bough;
There, only, steel can harm him; for that I tremble now.”[247]

Even among the blood-reverencing Brahmans of India, there are traces of this idea, that life is to be guarded by the outpoured blood of others. In the famous old work, “Kalila wa-Dimna,” there is the story of a king, named Beladh, who had a vision in the night, which so troubled him that he sought counsel of the Brahmans. Their advice was, that he should sacrifice his favorite wife, his best loved son, his nephew, and his dearest friend, in conjunction with other valued offerings to the gods. “It will be necessary for you, O King,” they said, “when you have put to death the persons we have named to you, to fill a cauldron with their blood, and sit upon it; and when you get up from the cauldron, we, the Brahmans, assembled from the four quarters of the kingdom, will walk around you, and pronounce our incantations over you, and we will spit upon you, and wipe off from you the blood, and will wash you in water and sweet-oil, and then you may return to the palace, trusting in the protection of heaven against the danger which threatens you.”[248]

Here, the king’s offering to the gods, was to be of that which was dearest to him; and the bath of blood was to prove to him a cover of life. King Beladh wisely said, that if that were the price of his safety he was ready to die. He would not prolong his life at such a cost. But the story shows the primitive estimate of the life-giving power of blood, among the Hindoos.

In China, also, blood has its place as a life-giving agency. A Chinese woman, on the Kit-ie River, tells a missionary, of her occasional seasons of frenzy, under the control of spirits, and of her ministry of blood, at such seasons, for the cure of disease. “Every year when there is to be a pestilence, or when cholera is to prevail, she goes into this frenzy, and cuts her tongue with a knife, letting some drops of her blood fall into a hogshead of water. This [homœopathically-treated] water, the people drink as a specific against contagion.” Its sacred blood is counted a shield of life. “With the rest of the blood, she writes charms, which the people paste [as words of life] upon their door-posts, or wear upon their persons, as preventives of evil.”[249]

Receiving new blood as a means of receiving new life, seems to have been sought interchangeably, in olden time, in various diseases, by blood lavations, by blood drinking, and by blood transfusion. It is recorded that, in 1483, King Louis XI., of France, struggled for life by drinking the blood of young children, as a means of his revivifying. “Every day he grew worse,” it is said; “and the medicines profited him nothing, though of a strange character; for he vehemently hoped to recover by the human blood which he took and swallowed from certain children.”[250] Again there is a disputed claim, that, in 1492, a Jewish physician endeavored to save the life of Pope Innocent VIII., by giving him in transfusion the blood of three young men successively. The Pope was not recovered, but the three young men lost their lives in the experiment.[251] Yet blood transfusion as a means of new life to the dying was not always a failure, even in former centuries; for the record stands, that “at Frankfort, on the Oder, the surgeons Balthazar, Kaufman, and Purmann, healed a leper, in 1683, by passing the blood of a lamb into his veins.”[252]

Even to-day, in South Africa, “when the Zulu King is sick, his immediate personal attendants, or _valets_, are obliged to allow themselves to be wounded; that a portion of their blood may be introduced into the king’s circulation, and a portion of his into theirs.”[253] In this plan, the idea seems to be, that health may have power over disease, and that death may be swallowed up in life, by equalizing the blood of the one who is in danger, and of the many who are in strength and safety. Moreover among the Kafirs those who are still in health are sometimes “washed in blood to protect them against wounds”;[254] as if an outer covering of life could be put on, for the protection of their life within. Transfused human blood is also said to be a common prescription of the medicine-men of Tasmania, for the cure of disease.[255]

And so it would appear, that, whatever may be its basis in physiological science, the opinion has prevailed, widely and always, that there is a vivifying power in transferred blood; and that blood not only represents but carries life.

3. A NEW NATURE THROUGH NEW BLOOD.

It was a primeval idea, of universal sway, that the taking in of another’s blood was the acquiring of another’s life, with all that was best in that other’s nature. It was not merely that the taking away of blood was the taking away of life; but that the taking in of blood was the taking in of life, and of all that that life represented. Here, again, the heart, as the fountain of blood, and so, as the centre and source of life, was preeminently the agency of transfer, in the acquiring of a new nature.

Herodotus tells us of this idea in the far East, twenty-four centuries ago. When a Scythian, he said, killed his first man in open warfare, he drank in his blood, as a means of absorbing his fairly acquired life; and the heads of as many as he slew, the Scythian carried in triumph to the king;[256] as the American Indian bears away the scalps of his slain, to-day. Modern historians, indeed, show us other resemblances than this, between the aboriginal American and the ancient Scythian.

The Jesuit founder of the Huron Mission to the American Indians, “its truest hero, and its greatest martyr,” was Jean de Brébeuf. After a heroic life among a savage people, he was subjected to frightful torture, and to the crudest death. His character had won the admiration of those who felt that duty to their gods demanded his martyrdom; and his bearing under torture exalted him in their esteem, as heroic beyond compare. “He came of a noble race,” says Parkman,[257]--“the same [race], it is said, from which sprang the English Earls of Arundel; but never had the mailed barons of his line confronted a fate so appalling, with so prodigious a constancy. To the last he refused to flinch, and ‘his death was an astonishment to his murderers.’” “We saw no part of his body,” wrote an eye witness,[258] “from head to foot, which was not burned [while he was yet living], even to his eyes, in the sockets of which these wretches had placed live coals.” Such manhood as he displayed under these tortures, the Indians could appreciate. Such courage and constancy as his, they longed to possess for themselves. When, therefore, they perceived that the brave and faithful man of God was finally sinking into death, they sprang toward him, scalped him, “laid open his breast, and came in a crowd to drink the blood of so valiant an enemy; thinking to imbibe with it some portion of his courage. A chief then tore out his heart, and devoured it.”

Not unlike this has been a common practice among the American Indians, in the treatment of prisoners of war. “If the victim had shown courage,” again says Parkman, concerning the Hurons, “the heart was first roasted, cut into small pieces, and given to the young men and boys, who devoured it, to increase their own courage.”[259] So, similarly, with the Iroquois.[260] And Burton says of the Dakotas:[261] “They are not cannibals, except when a warrior, after slaying a foe, eats, porcupine-like, the heart or liver, with the idea of increasing his own courage.” Schomburgk, writing concerning the natives of British Guiana, says: “In order to increase their courage, and [so their] contempt of death, the Caribs were wont to cut out the heart of a slain enemy, dry it on the fire, powder it, and mix the powder in their drink.”[262]

The native Australians find, it is said, an inducement to bloodshed, in their belief--like that of the ancient Scythians--that the life, or the spirit, of the first man whom one slays, enters into the life of the slayer, and remains as his helpful possession thereafter.[263] The Ashantee fetishmen, of West Africa, apparently acting on a kindred thought, make a mixture of the hearts of enemies, mingled with blood and consecrated herbs, for the vivifying of the conquerors. “All who have never before killed an enemy eat of the preparation; it being believed that if they did not, their energy would be secretly wasted by the haunting spirits of their deceased foes.”[264] The underlying motive of the bloody “head-hunting” in Borneo, is the Dayak belief, that the spirits of those whose heads are taken are to be subject to him, who does the decapitating. The heads are primarily simply the proof--like the Indian’s scalps--that their owner has so many lives absorbed in his own.[265]

A keen observer of Fellâheen life in Palestine has reported:[266] “There is an ugly expression used among the fellâheen of South Palestine, in speaking of an enemy slain in war--‘_Dhabbahhtho bisnâny_’ (‘I slew him with my teeth’)[267]; and it is said that there have been instances of killing in battle in this fashion by biting at the throat. In the Nablous district (Samaria), where the people are much more ferocious, the expression is, ‘I have drunk his blood’; but that is understood figuratively.”

An ancient Greek version of the story of Jason, telling of that hero’s treatment of the body of Apsyrtos--whom he had slain--says: “Thrice he tasted the blood, thrice [he] spat it out between his teeth;” and a modern collator informs us, that the scholiast here finds “the description of an archaic custom, popular among murderers.”[268] This certainly corresponds with the Semitic phrases lingering among the Fellâheen of Palestine.

In the old German epic, the Nibelungen Lied, it is told of the brave Burgundians, when they were fighting desperately in the burning hall of the Huns, that they were given new courage for the hopeless conflict, by drinking the blood of their fallen comrades; which “quenched their thirst, and made them fierce.”[269] With their added life, from the added blood of heroes, they battled as never before.

“It strung again their sinews, and failing strength renewed.
This, in her lover’s person, many a fair lady rued.”[270]

Is there not, indeed, a trace of the primitive custom--thus recognized in all quarters of the globe--of absorbing the life of a slain one by drinking in his blood, in our common phrase, “blood-thirstiness,” as descriptive of a life-seeker? That phrase certainly gains added force and appropriateness, in the light of this universal idea.

It is evident that the wide-spread popular belief in nature-absorption through blood-appropriation, has included the idea of a _tribal_ absorption of new life in _vicarious_ blood. Alcedo, a Spanish-American writer, has illustrated this in his description of the native Araucanians of South America. When they have triumphed in war, they select a representative prisoner for official and vicarious execution. After due preparation, they “give him a handful of small sticks and a sharp stake, with which they oblige him to dig a hole in the ground; and in this they order him to cast the sticks one by one, repeating the names of the principal warriors of his country, while at the same time the surrounding soldiers load these abhorred names with the bitterest execrations. He is then ordered to cover the hole, as if to bury therein the reputation and valor of their enemies, whom he has named. After this ceremony, the toqui, or one of his bravest companions to whom he relinquishes the honor of the execution, dashes out the brains of the prisoner with a club. The _heart_ is immediately taken out, and presented palpitating to the general, who sucks a little of the _blood_, and passes it to his officers, who repeat in succession the same ceremony.”[271] And in this way the life of the conquered tribe passes, symbolically, into the tribal life of the conquerors.

Burckhardt was so surprised at a trace of this idea in Nubia, that he could hardly credit the information concerning it; “although several persons asserted it to be a fact,” he says; “and he heard no one contradict it.”[272] As he learned it: “Among the Hallenga, who draw their origin from Abyssinia, a horrible custom is said to attend the revenge of blood. When the slayer has been seized by the relatives of the deceased, a family feast is proclaimed, at which the murderer is brought into the midst of them, bound upon an angareyg; and while his throat is slowly cut with a razor, the blood is caught in a bowl, and handed round amongst the guests; every one of whom is bound to drink of it, at the moment the victim breathes his last.” The forfeited life of the murderer here seems to be surrendered to, and formally appropriated by, the family, or clan, which he had, to the same extent, depleted of character and life.

A practice not unlike this is reported of the Australians, in their avenging the blood of a murdered person. They devour their victims; who are selected from the tribe of the murderer, although they may be personally, innocent of the murder. The tribe depleted by the murder, replaces its loss by blood--which is life--from the tribe of the murderer. Indeed, “when any one of a tribe [in New South Wales] dies a natural death, it is usual to avenge [or to cancel] the loss of the deceased by taking blood from one or other of his friends.”[273] In this way, the very life and being of those whose blood is taken, go to restore to the bereaved ones the loss that death has brought to them.

Strange as this idea may seem to us, its root-thought, as a fact, is still an open question in the realm of physiological science. The claim is positive, in medical works, that insanity has been cured by the transfusion of a sane man’s blood;[274] that a normal mind has been restored, through a normal life gained in new blood. Moreover, the question, how far the nature, or the characteristics, of an organism, are affected, in blood transfusion, by the nature, or the characteristics, of the donor of the transfused blood, is by no means a settled one among scientists. Referring to a series of questions in this line, propounded by Robert Boyle, more than two centuries ago, Roussel has said, within the past decade: “No one has been able to give any positive answers to them, based upon well-conducted operations”; and, “they still await solution in 1877, as in 1667.”[275]

4. LIFE FROM ANY BLOOD, AND BY A TOUCH.

Because blood is life, all blood, and any blood, has been looked upon as a vehicle of transferred life. And because blood is life, and the heart is a fountain of blood, and so is a fountain of life,--a touch of blood, or, again, the minutest portion of a vital and vivifying heart, has been counted capable of transferring life, with all that life includes and carries; just as the merest cutting of a vine, or the tiniest seed of the mightiest tree, will suffice as the germ of that vine or that tree, in a new planting. The blood, or the heart, of the lower animals, has been deemed the vehicle of life and strength, in its transference; and a touch from either has been counted potent in re-vivifying and in improving the receiving organism.

Thus, for example, Stanley, in the interior of Africa, having received “a fine, fat ox as a peace-offering,” from “the great magic doctor of Vinyata,” when making a covenant of blood with him,[276] was requested to return the heart of the ox to the donor; and he acceded to this request. After this, Stanley’s party was several times assailed by the Wanyaturu, from the neighborhood of Vinyata. Thereupon his ally Mgongo Tembo explained, says Stanley: “That we ought not to have bestowed the _heart_ of the presented ox upon the magic doctor of Vinyata; as by the loss of that diffuser of blood, the Wanyaturu believed we had left our own bodies weakened, and would be an easy prey to them.”[277]

Another modern traveler in Equatorial Africa finds fresh bullock’s blood counted a means of manhood. While the young Masâi man is passing his novitiate into warrior life, he seeks new strength by taking in new blood. Having employed medical means to rid his system of the remains of all other diet, says Thompson, the novice went to a lonely place with a single attendant; they taking with them a living bullock. There “they killed the bullock, either with a blow from a rungu, or by stabbing it in the back of the neck. They then opened a vein and drank the blood fresh from the animal.” After this, the young man gorged himself with the bullock’s flesh.[278] And whenever the Masâi warriors “go off on war-raids they also contrive to eat a bullock [after this fashion], by way of getting up their courage.”[279]

Again, it is said, that Arab women in North Africa give their male children a piece of the lion’s heart to eat, to make them courageous.[280] And an English traveler in South Africa[281] describing the death of a lion shot by his party, says: “Scarcely was the breath out of his body than the Caffres rushed up, and each took a mouthful of the blood that was trickling from the numerous wounds; as they believe that it is a specific which imparts strength and courage to those who partake of it.”

That the transference of life, with all that life carries, can be made by the simplest blood-anointing, as surely as by blood absorption, is strikingly illustrated by a custom still observed among the Hill Tribes of India. The Bheels, are a brave and warlike race of mountaineers, of Hindostan. They claim to have been, formerly, the rulers of all their region; but, whether by defeat in war, or by voluntary concession, to have yielded their power to other peoples--whom they now authorize to rule in their old domain. “The extraordinary custom, common to almost all the countries [of India] that have been mentioned,” says Sir J. Malcolm,[282] “of the _tika_, or mark that is put upon the forehead of the Rajput prince, or chief, when he succeeds to power, being moistened with blood taken from the toe or thumb of a Bhill, may be received as one among many proofs of their having been formerly in possession of the principalities, where this usage prevails.

... The right of giving the blood for this ceremony, is claimed by particular families; and the belief, that the individual, from whose veins it is supplied, never lives beyond a twelvemonth, in no degree operates to repress the zeal of the Bhills to perpetuate an usage, which the Rajput princes are, without exception, desirous should cease.” The Bheels claim that the right to rule is vested in their race; but they transfer that right to the Rajpoot by a transfer of blood--which is a transfer of life and of nature. Thus the Bheels continue to rule--in the person of those who have been vivified by their blood.

So, again, among the ancient Caribs, of South America, “‘as soon as a male child was brought into the world, he was sprinkled with some drops of his father’s blood’; the father ‘fondly believing, that the same degree of courage which he had himself displayed, was by these means transmitted to his son.’”[283] Here it is evident, that the voluntary transfusion of blood is deemed more potent to the strengthening of personal character, than is the transmission of blood by natural descent.

In South Africa, among the Amampondo, one of the Kaffir tribes, it is customary for the chief, on his accession to authority, “to be washed in the blood of a near relative, generally a brother, who is put to death on the occasion, and his skull used as a receptacle for his blood.”[284] In order to give more life and more character than the ordinary possession to the newly elevated chieftain, the family blood is withdrawn from the veins of one having less need of it, that it may be absorbed by him who can use it more imposingly.

In the Yoruba country, in Central Africa, “when a beast is sacrificed for a sick man, the blood is sprinkled on the wall, and smeared on the patient’s forehead, with the idea, it is said, of thus transferring to him the [divinely] accepted victim’s life.” Life is life, and whether that life be in the blood of one organism or of another, of man or of an inferior animal, its transference carries with it all that life includes. That seems to be the thought in Yoruba; and, as all life is of supernatural origin and preservation, its transference can be by a touch as easily as by any other method.[285]

5. INSPIRATION THROUGH BLOOD.

Because blood, as life, belongs to, and, in a peculiar sense, represents, the Author of life, blood has been counted a means of inspiration. The blood of the gods, in myth and legend, and again the blood of divinely accepted sacrifices, human and animal, in ancient and modern religious rituals, has been relied on as the agency whereby the Author of life speaks in and through the possessor of that blood.

The inspiring power of blood, is a thought that runs all through the early Norseland legends. Thus, Kvaser, according to the Scandinavian mythology, was a being created by the gods with preternatural intelligence. Kvaser traversed the world, teaching men wisdom; but he was treacherously murdered by the dwarfs Fjalar and Gala. The dwarfs let Kvaser’s blood run into two cups and a kettle. “The name of the kettle is Odrœrer, and the names of the cups are Son and Bodn. By mixing up his blood with honey, they composed a drink of such surpassing excellence, that whoever partakes of it acquires the gift of song.”[286] And that was the origin of poetry in the world; although there have been a good many imitations of the real article since that day.

So, again, in the Elder Edda, the hero Sigurd killed Fafner, at the instigation of Fafner’s brother Regin. Regin cut out the heart of his brother, and gave it to Sigurd to roast, while he drank the blood of the murdered one. Touching the bleeding heart with his fingers, and then putting his fingers into his mouth, Sigurd found that he was now able to understand the voice of birds; and thenceforward he was a hero inspired.[287] Afterwards he gave his bride, Gudrun, “to eat of the remnant of Fafnir’s heart; so _she_ grew wise and great-hearted.”[288]

Down to the present time, there are those in the far East, and in the far West, who seek inspiration by blood-drinking. All along the North Pacific coast, the shamanism of the native tribes shows itself in a craving for blood as a means and as an accompaniment of preternatural frenzy. The chief sorcerer, or medicine-man, has his seasons of demoniacal possession, when he can communicate with the powers of the air. At such times he is accustomed to spring upon the members of his tribe, and bite out from their necks or bodies the bleeding flesh, as a help to inspiration and debauch. None would venture to resist these blood-thirsty assaults; but the scars which result are always borne with pride.[289]

Another phase of this universal idea is reported by a recent traveler in the Himalayan districts of India; where, as he thinks, the forms of religion ante-date in their origin those of Hindooism, or of Brahmanism, and “have descended from very early ages.” When a favor is sought from a local divinity, “it is the _chela_ [or primitive seer] who gasps out the commands of the _deoty_ [the ‘deity’], as he [the chela] shivers under the divine afflatus, and [under] the vigorous application of the _soongul_, or iron scourge.” But before the chela can have “the divine afflatus” he must drink-in living blood. Thus, this traveler witnessed an appeal to the snake-god, Kailung Nag, for fine weather for the sowing of the crops. The sacrificial sheep was procured by the people; the ceremonies of wild worship, including music, dancing, incense-burning, and bodily flagellations, proceeded. “At length, all being ready, the head of the victim was struck off with an axe. The body was then lifted up by several men, and the chela, seizing upon it like a tiger, drank the blood as it spurted from the neck. When all the blood had been sucked from the carcass, it was thrown down upon the ground, amid yells and shouts of ‘_Kailung Maharaj ki jai!_’ [‘Victory to the great king Kailung’]. The dancing was then renewed, and became more violent, until after many contortions, the chela [now blood-filled] gasped out that the deota accepted the sacrifice, and that the season would be favorable. This was received with renewed shouts, and the chela sank down upon the ground in a state of exhaustion.”[290]

In the folk-lore of Scotland, as representing the primitive traditions of Western Europe, there are illustrations of the idea that the blood of the gods was communicated to earthly organisms. Thus, a scientific antiquarian of Scotland records in this line: “There was a popular saying that the robin”--the robin red-breast--“had a drop of God’s blood in its veins, and that therefore to kill or hurt it was a sin, and that some evil would befall any one who did so; and, conversely, any kindness done to poor robin would be repaid in some fashion. Boys did not dare to harry a robin’s nest.” On the other hand, the yellow-hammer and the swallow were said, each “to have a drop of the Devil’s blood in its veins”; so the one of these birds--the yellow-hammer--was “remorselessly harried”; and the other--the swallow--“was feared, and therefore let alone.”[291] A similar legendary fear of the swallow, and the guarding of his nest, accordingly, exists in Germany and in China.[292]

Another indication of the belief, that human blood has a vital connection with its divine source, and is under the peculiar oversight of its divine Author, is found in the wide-spread opinion that the blood of a murdered man will bear witness against the murderer, by flowing afresh at his touch; the living blood crying out from the dead body, by divine consent, in testimony of crime against the Author of life. Ancient European literature teems with incidents in the line of this “ordeal of touch.”

Thus it was, according to the Nibelungen Lied, that Kriemhild fastened upon Hagan the guilt of murdering her husband Siegfried; when Hagan and his associates were gathered for the burial of the hero.

“Firmly they made denial; Kriemhild at once replied,
‘Whoe’er in this is guiltless, let him this proof abide.
In sight of all the people let him approach the bier,
And so to each beholder shall the plain truth appear.’
It is a mighty marvel, which oft e’en now we spy,
That, when the blood-stain’d murderer comes to the murder’d nigh,
The wounds break out a-bleeding; then too the same befell,
And thus could each beholder the guilt of Hagan tell.
The wounds at once burst streaming, fast as they did before;
Those who then sorrowed deeply, now yet lamented more.”[293]

Under Christian II., of Denmark, the “Nero of the North,” early in the sixteenth century, there was a notable illustration of this confidence in the power of blood to speak for itself. A number of gentlemen being together in a tavern, one evening, they fell to quarreling, and “one of them was stabbed with a poniard. Now the murderer was unknown, by reason of the number [present]; although the person stabbed accused a pursuivant of the king’s who was one of the company. The king, to find out the homicide, caused them all to come together in the stove [the tavern], and, standing round the corpse, he commanded that they should, one after another, lay their right hand on the slain gentleman’s naked breast, swearing that they had not killed him. The gentlemen did so, and no sign appeared against them. The pursuivant only remained, who, condemned before in his own conscience, went first of all and kissed the dead man’s feet. But, as soon as he had laid his hand upon his breast, the blood gushed forth in abundance, both out of his wound and his nostrils; so that, urged by this evident accusation, he confessed the murder, and was by the king’s own sentence, immediately beheaded.”[294]

A striking example of the high repute in which this ordeal of touch was formerly held, and of the underlying idea on which its estimate was based, is reported from the State Trials of Scotland. It was during the trial of Philip Standsfield, in 1688, for the murder of his father, Sir James. The testimony was explicit, that when this son touched the body, the blood flowed afresh, and the son started back in terror, crying out, “Lord, have mercy upon me!” wiping off the blood, from his hand, on his clothes. Sir George M’Kenzie, acting for the State, at the inquest, said concerning this testimony and its teachings: “But they, fully persuaded that Sir James was murdered by his own son, sent out [with him] some surgeons and friends, who having raised the body, did see it bleed miraculously upon his touching it. In which, God Almighty himself was pleased to bear a share in the testimonies which we produce: that Divine Power which makes the blood circulate during life, has oft times, in all nations, opened a passage to it after death upon such occasions, but most in this case.”[295]

Mr. Henry C. Lea, in his erudite work on Superstition and Force, has multiplied illustrations of the ordeal of touch, or of “bier-right,” all along the later centuries.[296] He recalls that “Shakspeare introduces it, in King Richard III., where Gloster interrupts the funeral of Henry VI., and Lady Anne exclaims:

‘O gentlemen see, see! dead Henry’s wounds
Open their congealed mouths, and bleed afresh.’”

He refers to the fact that it was an old-time Jewish custom to ask pardon of a corpse for any offences committed against the living man, laying hold of the great toe of the corpse while thus asking; and if the asker had really inflicted any grievous injury on the deceased, the body was supposed to signify that fact by a copious hemorrhage from the nose.[297] “This, it will be observed,” he adds, “is almost identical with the well-known story which relates that, when Richard Cœur-de-Lion hastened to the funeral of his father, Henry II., and met the procession at Fontevraud, the blood poured from the nostrils of the dead king, whose end he had hastened by his disobedience and rebellion.” Mr. Lea shows that in some instances the bones of a murdered man are said to have given out fresh blood when handled by a murderer as long as twenty years, or even fifty, after the murder; and he gives ample evidence that a belief in this power of blood to speak for itself against the violator of God’s law, still exists among the English-speaking people, and that it has manifested itself as a means of justice-seeking, in the United States, within a few years past.

6. INTER-COMMUNION THROUGH BLOOD.

Beyond the idea of inspiration through an interflow of God-representing blood, there has been in primitive man’s mind (however it came there) the thought of a possible inter-communion with God through an inter-union with God by blood. God is life. All life is from God, and belongs to God. Blood is life. Blood, therefore, as life, may be a means of man’s inter-union with God. As the closest and most sacred of covenants between man and man; as, indeed, an absolute merging of two human natures into one,--is a possibility through an inter-flowing of a common blood; so the closest and most sacred of covenants between man and God; so the inter-union of the human nature with the divine,--has been looked upon as a possibility, through the proffer and acceptance of a common life in a common blood-flow.

Whatever has been man’s view of sin and its punishment, and of his separation from God because of unforgiven sin (I speak now of man as he is found, without the specific teachings of the Bible on this subject), he has counted blood--his own blood, in actuality or by substitute--a means of inter-union with God, or with the gods. Blood is not death, but life. The shedding of blood, Godward, is not the taking of life, but the giving of life. The outflowing of blood toward God is an act of gratitude or of affection, a proof of loving confidence, a means of inter-union. This seems to have been the universal primitive conception of the race. And an evidence of man’s trust in the accomplished fact of his inter-union with God, or with the gods, by blood, has been the also universal practice of man’s inter-communion with God, or with the gods, by his sharing, in food-partaking, of the body of the sacrificial offering, whose blood is the means of the divine-human inter-union.

Perhaps the most ancient existing form of religious worship, as also the simplest and most primitive form, is to be found in China, in the state religion, represented by the Emperor’s worship at the Temple of Heaven, in Peking. And in that worship, the idea of the worshiper’s inter-communion with God, through the body and blood of the sacrificial offering, is disclosed, even if not always recognized, by all the representative Western authorities on the religions of China.

“The Chinese idea of a sacrifice to the supreme spirit of Heaven and of Earth is that of a banquet. There is no trace of any other idea,” says Dr. Edkins.[298] Dr. Legge,[299] citing this statement, expands its significance by saying: “The notion of the whole service [at the Temple of Heaven] might be that of a banquet; but a sacrifice and a banquet are incompatible ideas.”[300] He then shows that the Chinese character _tsî_, signifying “sacrifice,” “covers a much wider space of meaning than our term sacrifice [as he seems to view our use of that term].” Morrison gives as one of the meanings of _tsî_, “That which is the medium between, or brings together, men and Gods”; and Hsü Shan “says, that _tsî_ is made up of two ideograms;--one the primitive for spiritual beings, and the other representing a right hand and a piece of flesh.” Legge adds: “The most general idea symbolized by it is--an offering whereby communication and communion with spiritual beings [God, or the gods] is effected.”[301]

Dr. S. Wells Williams says, that “no religious system has been found among the Chinese which taught the doctrine of the atonement by the shedding of blood”; and this he counts “an argument in favor of their [the Chinese] antiquity”; adding that “the state religion ... has maintained its main features during the past three thousand years.”[302] Williams here, evidently, refers to an expiatory atonement for sin; and Legge has a similar view of the facts.[303] The idea of an approach to God through blood--blood as a means of favor, even if not blood as a canceling of guilt--is obvious, in the outpouring of blood by the Emperor when he approaches God for his worship in the Temple of Heaven. The symbolic sacrifice in that worship, which precedes the communion, is of a whole “burnt offering, of a bullock, entire and without blemish”;[304] and the blood of that offering is reverently poured out into the earth,[305] to be buried there, according to the thought of man and the teachings of God in all the ages. It is even claimed that as early as 2697 B. C., it was the blood of the first-born which must be poured out toward God--as a means of favor--in the Emperor’s approach for communion with God; “a first-born male,” being offered up “as a whole burnt sacrifice,” in this worship.[306] Surely, in this surrender of the first-born, there must have been some idea of an affectionate offering, in the gift of that which was dearest, even if there was no idea of substitution by way of expiation; something in addition to the simple idea of “a banquet”; something which was an essential preliminary to the banquet.

Access to God being attained by the Emperor, the Emperor enjoys communion with God in the Temple of Heaven. It is after the outpouring of blood, and the offering of the holocaust, that--in a lull of the orchestral music, in the great annual sacrifice--“a single voice is heard, on the upper terrace of the altar, chanting the words, ‘Give the cup of blessing, and the meat of blessing.’ In response, the officer in charge of the cushion advances and kneels, spreading the cushion. Other officers present the cup of blessing and the meat of blessing [which have already been presented Godward] to the Emperor, who partakes of the wine and returns them. The Emperor then again prostrates himself, and knocks his forehead three times against the ground, and then nine times more, to represent his thankful reception of the wine and meat [in communion].”[307]

The evidence is abundant, that the main idea of this primitive and supreme service in the religions of China, is the inter-communion of the Emperor with God. And there is no lack of proof that in China, as elsewhere all the world over, blood--as life--is the means of covenanting in an indissoluble inter-union; of which inter-union, inter-communion is a result and a proof.

In China, as also in India,[308] when the sacrifice of human beings was abolished, it was followed by the sacrifice of the horse. And the horse-sacrifice is still practised in some parts of the Chinese Empire, on important occasions. A white horse is brought to the brink of a stream, or a lake, and there sacrificed, by decapitating it, “burying its head below low-water mark, but _reserving its carcase for food_.”[309] In a description of this sacrifice, in honor of a certain goddess, as witnessed by Archdeacon Gray,[310] it is said: “Its _blood_ was received in a large earthenware jar, and a portion carried to the temple of the aforesaid goddess; when all the villagers rushed tumultuously to secure a sprinkling of blood on the charms which they had already purchased. The rest of the blood was mingled with sand,” and taken with various accessories, in a boat. “This boat headed a long procession of richly carved and gilded boats, in which were priests, both Buddhist and Taouists, and village warriors discharging matchlocks to terrify the water-devils; while the men in the first boat sprinkle the waters, as they advance, with blood-stained sand.”

So, again, it is the blood of a cock,--not the body but the blood,--which is made the propitiatory offering to the goddess known as “Loong-moo, or the Dragon’s Mother,” on the river junks of China. The blood is sprinkled on the deck, near a temporary altar, where libations of wine have already been poured out by master of this junk, who is the sacrificer. Afterwards, bits of silver paper are “sprinkled with the blood, and then fastened to the door-posts and lintels of the cabin”;[311] as if in token of the blood-covenant between those who are within those doors and the goddess whose substitute blood is there affixed. And this precedes the feast of inter-communion.[312]

Nor are indications wanting, that the idea of inter-union with the gods by blood was originally linked with, if it were not primarily based upon, the rite of blood-covenanting between two human friends. Thus, Archdeacon Gray unconsciously discloses traces of this rite, in his description of the exorcising of demons from the body of a child, by a Taouist priest, in Canton.[313] Certain preliminary ceremonies were concluded; which were supposed to drive out the demons. “The priest then proceeded to uncover his [own] arm, and made an incision with a lancet in the fleshy part. The blood which flowed from the wound, was allowed to mingle with a small quantity of water in a cup. The seal of the temple, the impression of which was the name of the idol, was then dipped into the blood, and stamped upon the wrists, neck, back and forehead[314] of the poor heathen child.” By this means, that child was symbolically sealed in covenant relations with the god of that temple, by the substitute blood of that god’s representative priest.

Thus, also, Dr. Legge, referring to old-time covenantings in China, says:[315] “Many covenants were made among the feudal princes,--made over the blood of a victim, with which each covenanting party smeared the corners of his mouth [which is one form of tasting];[316] while an appeal was addressed to the invisible powers to inflict vengeance on all who should violate the conditions agreed upon [the ordinary imprecatory prayers in the rite of blood-covenanting].” A symbolic inter-union of blood is a basis of inter-communion between two human beings, as also between the human and the divine beings even in China--where, perhaps, that idea would be least likely to be looked for.

It is a common opinion, that in no part of the world is there a more general prejudice against blood-shedding, or the taking of animal life, than in India. And it certainly is a fact, that the great religious systems, of Brahmanism and of Booddhism, which have controlled the moral sense of the peoples of India for a score or two of centuries, have exerted themselves, in the main, to the inculcation of these views as to the sacredness of blood and of life--or of blood which is life. Hence, we would naturally look, in India, only for traces, or vestiges, of the primitive, world-wide idea of inter-communion with God, or with the gods, through a divine-human inter-union by blood. Nor are such traces and vestiges lacking in the religious customs of India.

In India, as in China, human sacrifices, especially the sacrifice of the first-born son, were formerly made freely, as a means of bringing the offerer into closer relations with the gods, through the outpoured blood.[317] It was the blood, as the life, which was believed to be the common possession of gods, men, and beasts; hence the final substitution, in India, of beasts for men, in the blood-covenanting with the gods. On this point, the evidence seems clear.

The Vedas, or sacred books of the Brahmans, teach, indeed, that the gods themselves were mere mortals, until by repeated offerings of blood in sacrifice, to the Supreme Being, they won immortality from him; which is only another way of making the claim, put forward by the immortalized-mortal, in the Book of the Dead, of ancient Egypt, that the mortal became one with the gods through an interflow of a common life in the common blood of the two. Mortals gave the blood of their first-born sons in sacrifice to the Supreme Being. Then the Supreme Being gave the blood of his first-born male in sacrifice. Thus, the nature of the favored mortals and the nature of the Supreme Being became one and the same. Dr. Monier Williams cites freely from the Vedas in the direction of this great truth; although he does not note its bearing on the blood-covenant rite. Thus, in “the following free translation of a passage of the Satapatha-brāhmana:

‘The gods lived constantly in dread of Death--
The mighty Ender--so, with toilsome rites
They worshiped, and repeated sacrifices,
Till they became immortal.’”

“And again in the Taittirīya-brāhmana: ‘By means of the sacrifice the gods obtained heaven.’” In the Tāndya-brāhmanas: “The lord of creatures offered himself a sacrifice for the gods.” “And again, in the Satapatha-brāhmana: ‘He who, knowing this, sacrifices with the _Purusha-medha_, or sacrifice of the primeval male, becomes everything.’”[318]

That it was the _blood_, which was the chief element in the covenanting-sacrifice, is evident from all the facts in the case. Thus, in the Aitareya-brāhmana, it is said: “The gods killed a man for their victim [of sacrifice]. But from him thus killed, the part which was fit for a sacrifice went out and entered a horse. Thence, the horse became an animal fit for being sacrificed. The gods then killed the horse, but the part of it fit for being sacrificed went out of it and entered an ox. The gods then killed the ox, but the part of it fit for being sacrificed went out of it and entered a sheep. Thence it entered a goat. The sacrificial part remained for the longest time in the goat; thence it [the goat] became preeminently fit for being sacrificed!” Indian history shows that this has been the progress of reform, from the days of human sacrifice downward. “It is remarkable that in Vedic times, even a cow ... was sometimes killed; and goats, as is well known, are still sacrificed to the goddess Kālī.”[319] Kalī, also called Doorgā, is the blood-craving goddess. The blood of one human victim, it is said, “gives her a gleam of pleasure that endures a thousand years; and the sacrifice of three men together, would prolong her ecstacy for a thousand centuries.”[320]

Bishop Heber indicates the “sacrificial part” of the goat as he saw it offered at a temple of Kālī in Umeer. He was being shown by his guide through that city, on his first visit there, and the guide proposed a look at the temple. “He turned short, and led us some little distance up the citadel, then through a dark, low arch into a small court, where, to my surprise, the first object which met my eyes was a pool of blood on the pavement, by which a naked man stood with a bloody sword in his hand.... The guide ... cautioned me against treading in the blood, and told me that a goat was sacrificed here every morning. In fact a second glance showed me the headless body of the poor animal lying before the steps of a small shrine, apparently of Kali. The Brahman was officiating and tinkling his bell.... The guide told us, on our way back, that the tradition was, that, in ancient times a man was sacrificed here every day; that the custom had been laid aside till Jye Singh [the builder of Umeer] had a frightful dream, in which the destroying power appeared to him, and asked why her image was suffered to be dry [It is _blood_, not _flesh_, that moistens]. The Rajah, afraid to disobey, and reluctant to fulfil the requisition to its ancient extent of horror, took counsel and substituted a goat [in which as well as in man there is blood--which is life--which is the chief thing in a sacrifice Godward] for the human victim; with which the

‘Dark goddess of the azure flood,
Whose robes are wet with infant tears,
Skull-chaplet wearer, whom the blood
Of man delights three thousand years,’

was graciously pleased to be contented.”[321]

“I had always heard, and fully believed till I came to India,” says Bishop Heber, “that it was a grievous crime, in the opinion of the Brahmans, to eat the flesh or shed the blood of any living creature whatever. I have now myself seen Brahmans of the highest caste cut off the heads of goats, as a sacrifice to Doorga; and I know from the testimony of Brahmans, as well as from other sources, that not only hecatombs of animals are often offered in this manner, as a most meritorious act (a Rajah, about twenty-five years back [say about A. D. 1800], offered sixty thousand in one fortnight); but that any persons, Brahmans not excepted, eat readily [in inter-communion] of the flesh which has been offered up to one of their divinities.”[322]