{"collection":"ritual-magic","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_713/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_713","id":"gutenberg_713","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/713","summary":null,"tags":["Alchemy","Category: History - Medieval/Middle Ages","Category: History - Other","Category: History - Religious","Common fallacies","Delusions","Hallucinations and illusions","Impostors and imposture","Investments -- Psychological aspects","Occultism -- Early works to 1900","Psychology","Social psychology","Stock exchanges -- Psychological aspects","Swindlers and swindling"],"text":"\"Il est bon de connaitre les delires de l'esprit humain.  Chaque people\na ses folies plus ou moins grossieres.\"\n\nMILLOT\n\n\n\n\nMEMORIES OF EXTRAORDINARY POPULAR DELUSIONS\n\nVOL II.\n\n\nBY\n\nCHARLES MACKAY\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME.\n\n  THE CRUSADES\n  THE WITCH MANIA\n  THE SLOW POISONERS\n  HAUNTED HOUSES\n\n\n\n\nTHE CRUSADES ....\n\n  They heard, and up they sprung upon the wing\n  Innumerable. As when the potent rod\n  Of Amram's son, in Egypt's evil day,\n  Waved round the coast, up call'd a pitchy cloud\n  Of locusts, warping on the eastern wind\n  That o'er the realm of impious Pharaoh hung\n  Like night, and darken'd all the realm of Nile,\n  So numberless were they.    *    *    *\n  *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *\n  All in a moment through the gloom were seen\n  Ten thousand banners rise into the air,\n  With orient colours waving. With them rose\n  A forest huge of spears; and thronging helms\n  Appear'd, and serried shields, in thick array,\n  Of depth immeasurable.\n\n  Paradise Lost.\n\n\nEvery age has its peculiar folly--some scheme, project, or phantasy\ninto which it plunges, spurred on either by the love of gain, the\nnecessity of excitement, or the mere force of imitation. Failing in\nthese, it has some madness, to which it is goaded by political or\nreligious causes, or both combined. Every one of these causes\ninfluenced the Crusades, and conspired to render them the most\nextraordinary instance upon record of the extent to which popular\nenthusiasm can be carried. History in her solemn page informs us, that\nthe crusaders were but ignorant and savage men, that their motives were\nthose of bigotry unmitigated, and that their pathway was one of blood\nand tears. Romance, on the other hand, dilates upon their piety and\nheroism and pourtrays in her most glowing and impassioned hues their\nvirtue and magnanimity, the imperishable honour they acquired for\nthemselves, and the great services they rendered to Christianity.  In\nthe following pages we shall ransack the stores of both, to discover\nthe true spirit that animated the motley multitude who took up arms in\nthe service of the Cross, leaving history to vouch for facts, but not\ndisdaining the aid of contemporary poetry and romance to throw light\nupon feelings, motives, and opinions.\n\nIn order to understand thoroughly the state of public feeling in Europe\nat the time when Peter the Hermit preached the holy war, it will be\nnecessary to go back for many years anterior to that event. We must\nmake acquaintance with the pilgrims of the eighth, ninth, and tenth\ncenturies, and learn the tales they told of the dangers they had\npassed, and the wonders they had seen. Pilgrimages to the Holy Land\nseem at first to have been undertaken by converted Jews, and by\nChristian devotees of lively imagination, pining with a natural\ncuriosity to visit the scenes which of all others were most interesting\nin their eyes. The pious and the impious alike flocked to\nJerusalem,--the one class to feast their sight on the scenes hallowed\nby the life and sufferings of their Lord, and the other, because it\nsoon became a generally received opinion, that such a pilgrimage was\nsufficient to rub off the long score of sins, however atrocious.\nAnother and very numerous class of pilgrims were the idle and roving,\nwho visited Palestine then as the moderns visit Italy or Switzerland\nnow, because it was the fashion, and because they might please their\nvanity by retailing, on their return, the adventures they had met with.\nBut the really pious formed the great majority. Every year their\nnumbers increased, until at last they became so numerous as to be\ncalled the \"armies of the Lord.\" Full of enthusiasm, they set the\ndanger and difficulty of the way at defiance, and lingered with holy\nrapture on every scene described in the Evangelists. To them it was\nbliss indeed to drink the clear waters of the Jordan, or be baptized in\nthe same stream where John had baptized the Saviour. They wandered with\nawe and pleasure in the purlieus of the Temple, on the solemn Mount of\nOlives, or the awful Calvary, where a God had bled for sinful men. To\nthese pilgrims every object was precious. Relics were eagerly sought\nafter; flagons of water from Jordan, or paniers of mould from the hill\nof the Crucifixion, were brought home, and sold at extravagant prices\nto churches and monasteries. More apocryphical relics, such as the wood\nof the true cross, the tears of the Virgin Mary, the hems of her\ngarments, the toe-nails and hair of the Apostles--even the tents that\nPaul had helped to manufacture--were exhibited for sale by the knavish\nin Palestine, and brought back to Europe \"with wondrous cost and care.\"\nA grove of a hundred oaks would not have furnished all the wood sold in\nlittle morsels as remnants of the true cross; and the tears of Mary, if\ncollected together, would have filled a cistern.\n\nFor upwards of two hundred years the pilgrims met with no impediment in\nPalestine. The enlightened Haroun Al Reschid, and his more immediate\nsuccessors, encouraged the stream which brought so much wealth into\nSyria, and treated the wayfarers with the utmost courtesy.  The race of\nFatemite caliphs,--who, although in other respects as tolerant, were\nmore distressed for money, or more unscrupulous in obtaining it, than\ntheir predecessors of the house of Abbas,--imposed a tax of a bezant\nfor each pilgrim that entered Jerusalem.  This was a serious hardship\nupon the poorer sort, who had begged their weary way across Europe, and\narrived at the bourne of all their hopes without a coin. A great outcry\nwas immediately raised, but still the tax was rigorously levied. The\npilgrims unable to pay were compelled to remain at the gate of the holy\ncity until some rich devotee arriving with his train, paid the tax and\nlet them in. Robert of Normandy, father of William the Conqueror, who,\nin common with many other nobles of the highest rank, undertook the\npilgrimage, found on his arrival scores of pilgrims at the gate,\nanxiously expecting his coming to pay the tax for them. Upon no\noccasion was such a boon refused.\n\nThe sums drawn from this source were a mine of wealth to the Moslem\ngovernors of Palestine, imposed as the tax had been at a time when\npilgrimages had become more numerous than ever. A strange idea had\ntaken possession of the popular mind at the close of the tenth and\ncommencement of the eleventh century. It was universally believed that\nthe end of the world was at hand; that the thousand years of the\nApocalypse were near completion, and that Jesus Christ would descend\nupon Jerusalem to judge mankind. All Christendom was in commotion. A\npanic terror seized upon the weak, the credulous, and the guilty, who\nin those days formed more than nineteen twentieths of the population.\nForsaking their homes, kindred, and occupation, they crowded to\nJerusalem to await the coming of the Lord, lightened, as they imagined,\nof a load of sin by their weary pilgrimage. To increase the panic, the\nstars were observed to fall from heaven, earthquakes to shake the land,\nand violent hurricanes to blow down the forests. All these, and more\nespecially the meteoric phenomena, were looked upon as the forerunners\nof the approaching judgments. Not a meteor shot athwart the horizon\nthat did not fill a district with alarm, and send away to Jerusalem a\nscore of pilgrims, with staff in hand and wallet on their back, praying\nas they went for the remission of their sins.  Men, women, and even\nchildren, trudged in droves to the holy city, in expectation of the day\nwhen the heavens would open, and the Son of God descend in his glory.\nThis extraordinary delusion, while it augmented the numbers, increased\nalso the hardships of the pilgrims. Beggars became so numerous on all\nthe highways between the west of Europe and Constantinople that the\nmonks, the great alms-givers upon these occasions, would have brought\nstarvation within sight of their own doors, if they had not economized\ntheir resources, and left the devotees to shift for themselves as they\ncould. Hundreds of them were glad to subsist upon the berries that\nripened by the road, who, before this great flux, might have shared the\nbread and flesh of the monasteries.\n\nBut this was not the greatest of their difficulties. On their arrival\nin Jerusalem they found that a sterner race had obtained possession of\nthe Holy Land. The caliphs of Bagdad had been succeeded by the harsh\nTurks of the race of Seljook, who looked upon the pilgrims with\ncontempt and aversion. The Turks of the eleventh century were more\nferocious and less scrupulous than the Saracens of the tenth. They were\nannoyed at the immense number of pilgrims who overran the country, and\nstill more so because they showed no intention of quitting it. The\nhourly expectation of the last judgment kept them waiting; and the\nTurks, apprehensive of being at last driven from the soil by the swarms\nthat were still arriving, heaped up difficulties in their way.\nPersecution of every kind awaited them. They were plundered, and beaten\nwith stripes, and kept in suspense for months at the gates of\nJerusalem, unable to pay the golden bezant that was to facilitate their\nentrance.\n\nWhen the first epidemic terror of the day of judgment began to subside,\na few pilgrims ventured to return to Europe, their hearts big with\nindignation at the insults they had suffered. Everywhere as they passed\nthey related to a sympathizing auditory the wrongs of Christendom.\nStrange to say, even these recitals increased the mania for pilgrimage.\nThe greater the dangers of the way, the more chance that sins of deep\ndye would be atoned for. Difficulty and suffering only heightened the\nmerit, and fresh hordes issued from every town and village, to win\nfavour in the sight of Heaven by a visit to the holy sepulchre. Thus\ndid things continue during the whole of the eleventh century.\n\nThe train that was to explode so fearfully was now laid, and there\nwanted but the hand to apply the torch. At last the man appeared upon\nthe scene. Like all who have ever achieved so great an end, Peter the\nhermit was exactly suited to the age; neither behind it, nor in advance\nof it; but acute enough to penetrate its mystery ere it was discovered\nby any other. Enthusiastic, chivalrous, bigoted, and, if not insane,\nnot far removed from insanity, he was the very prototype of the time.\nTrue enthusiasm is always persevering and always eloquent, and these\ntwo qualities were united in no common degree in the person of this\nextraordinary preacher. He was a monk of Amiens, and ere he assumed the\nhood had served as a soldier. He is represented as having been ill\nfavoured and low in stature, but with an eye of surpassing brightness\nand intelligence. Having been seized with the mania of the age, he\nvisited Jerusalem, and remained there till his blood boiled to see the\ncruel persecution heaped upon the devotees. On his return home he shook\nthe world by the eloquent story of their wrongs.\n\nBefore entering into any further details of the astounding results of\nhis preaching, it will be advisable to cast a glance at the state of\nthe mind of Europe, that we may understand all the better the causes of\nhis success. First of all, there was the priesthood, which, exercising\nas it did the most conspicuous influence upon the fortunes of society,\nclaims the largest share of attention. Religion was the ruling idea of\nthat day, and the only civiliser capable of taming such wolves as then\nconstituted the flock of the faithful. The clergy were all in all; and\nthough they kept the popular mind in the most slavish subjection with\nregard to religious matters, they furnished it with the means of\ndefence against all other oppression except their own. In the\necclesiastical ranks were concentrated all the true piety, all the\nlearning, all the wisdom of the time; and, as a natural consequence, a\ngreat portion of power, which their very wisdom perpetually incited\nthem to extend. The people knew nothing of kings and nobles, except in\nthe way of injuries inflicted. The first ruled for, or more properly\nspeaking against, the barons, and the barons only existed to brave the\npower of the kings, or to trample with their iron heels upon the neck\nof prostrate democracy. The latter had no friend but the clergy, and\nthese, though they necessarily instilled the superstition from which\nthey themselves were not exempt, yet taught the cheering doctrine that\nall men were equal in the sight of heaven. Thus, while Feudalism told\nthem they had no rights in this world, Religion told them they had\nevery right in the next. With this consolation they were for the time\ncontent, for political ideas had as yet taken no root. When the clergy,\nfor other reasons, recommended the Crusade, the people joined in it\nwith enthusiasm. The subject of Palestine filled all minds; the\npilgrims' tales of two centuries warmed every imagination; and when\ntheir friends, their guides, and their instructors preached a war so\nmuch in accordance with their own prejudices and modes of thinking, the\nenthusiasm rose into a frenzy.\n\nBut while religion inspired the masses, another agent was at work upon\nthe nobility. These were fierce and lawless; tainted with every vice,\nendowed with no virtue, and redeemed by one good quality alone, that of\ncourage. The only religion they felt was the religion of fear.  That\nand their overboiling turbulence alike combined to guide them to the\nHoly Land. Most of them had sins enough to answer for. They lived with\ntheir hand against every man; and with no law but their own passions.\nThey set at defiance the secular power of the clergy, but their hearts\nquailed at the awful denunciations of the pulpit with regard to the\nlife to come. War was the business and the delight of their existence;\nand when they were promised remission of all their sins upon the easy\ncondition of following their favourite bent, is it to be wondered at\nthat they rushed with enthusiasm to the onslaught, and became as\nzealous in the service of the Cross as the great majority of the\npeople, who were swayed by more purely religious motives? Fanaticism\nand the love of battle alike impelled them to the war, while the kings\nand princes of Europe had still another motive for encouraging their\nzeal. Policy opened their eyes to the great advantages which would\naccrue to themselves, by the absence of so many restless, intriguing,\nand blood-thirsty men, whose insolence it required more than the small\npower of royalty to restrain within due bounds. Thus every motive was\nfavourable to the Crusades. Every class of society was alike incited to\njoin or encourage the war; kings and the clergy by policy, the nobles\nby turbulence and the love of dominion, and the people by religious\nzeal and the concentrated enthusiasm of two centuries, skilfully\ndirected by their only instructors.\n\nIt was in Palestine itself that Peter the Hermit first conceived the\ngrand idea of rousing the powers of Christendom to rescue the\nChristians of the East from the thraldom of the Mussulmans, and the\nsepulchre of Jesus from the rude hands of the infidel. The subject\nengrossed his whole mind. Even in the visions of the night he was full\nof it. One dream made such an impression upon him, that he devoutly\nbelieved the Saviour of the world himself appeared before him, and\npromised him aid and protection in his holy undertaking. If his zeal\nhad ever wavered before, this was sufficient to fix it for ever.\n\nPeter, after he had performed all the penances and duties of his\npilgrimage, demanded an interview with Simeon, the Patriarch of the\nGreek Church at Jerusalem. Though the latter was a heretic in Peter's\neyes, yet he was still a Christian, and felt as acutely as himself for\nthe persecutions heaped by the Turks upon the followers of Jesus. The\ngood prelate entered fully into his views, and, at his suggestion,\nwrote letters to the Pope, and to the most influential monarchs of\nChristendom, detailing the sorrows of the faithful, and urging them to\ntake up arms in their defence. Peter was not a laggard in the work.\nTaking an affectionate farewell of the Patriarch, he returned in all\nhaste to Italy. Pope Urban II. occupied the apostolic chair. It was at\nthat time far from being an easy seat. His predecessor, Gregory, had\nbequeathed him a host of disputes with the Emperor Henry IV. of\nGermany, and he had made Philip I. of France his enemy by his strenuous\nopposition to an adulterous connexion formed by that monarch. So many\ndangers encompassed him about, that the Vatican was no secure abode,\nand he had taken refuge in Apulia, under the protection of the renowned\nRobert Guiscard. Thither Peter appears to have followed him, though in\nwhat spot their meeting took place is not stated with any precision by\nancient chroniclers or modern historians.  Urban received him most\nkindly; read, with tears in his eyes, the epistle from the Patriarch\nSimeon, and listened to the eloquent story of the Hermit with an\nattention which showed how deeply he sympathised with the woes of the\nChristian church. Enthusiasm is contagious, and the Pope appears to\nhave caught it instantly from one whose zeal was so unbounded. Giving\nthe Hermit full powers, he sent him abroad to preach the holy war to\nall the nations and potentates of Christendom.  The Hermit preached,\nand countless thousands answered to his call.  France, Germany, and\nItaly started at his voice, and prepared for the deliverance of Zion.\nOne of the early historians of the Crusade, who was himself an\neye-witness of the rapture of Europe, [Guibert de Nogent] describes the\npersonal appearance of the Hermit at this time.  He says, that there\nappeared to be something of divine in every thing which he said or did.\nThe people so highly reverenced him, that they plucked hairs from the\nmane of his mule, that they might keep them as relics. While preaching,\nhe wore in general a woollen tunic, with a dark-coloured mantle, which\nfell down to his heels. His arms and feet were bare, and he ate neither\nflesh nor bread, supporting himself chiefly upon fish and wine. \"He set\nout,\" says the chronicler, \"from whence I know not; but we saw him\npassing through the towns and villages, preaching every where, and the\npeople surrounding him in crowds, loading him with offerings, and\ncelebrating his sanctity with such great praises that I never remember\nto have seen such honours bestowed upon any one.\" Thus he went on,\nuntired, inflexible, and full of devotion, communicating his own\nmadness to his hearers, until Europe was stirred from its very depths.\n\nWhile the Hermit was appealing with such signal success to the people,\nthe Pope appealed with as much success to those who were to become the\nchiefs and leaders of the expedition. His first step was to call a\ncouncil at Placentia, in the autumn of the year 1095. Here, in the\nassembly of the clergy, the Pope debated the grand scheme, and gave\naudience to emissaries who had been sent from Constantinople by the\nEmperor of the East to detail the progress made by the Turks in their\ndesign of establishing themselves in Europe. The clergy were of course\nunanimous in support of the Crusade, and the council separated, each\nindividual member of it being empowered to preach it to his people.\n\nBut Italy could not be expected to furnish all the aid required; and\nthe Pope crossed the Alps to inspire the fierce and powerful nobility\nand chivalrous population of Gaul. His boldness in entering the\nterritory, and placing himself in the power of his foe, King Philip of\nFrance, is not the least surprising feature of his mission.  Some have\nimagined that cool policy alone actuated him, while others assert, that\nit was mere zeal, as warm and as blind as that of Peter the Hermit. The\nlatter opinion seems to be the true one. Society did not calculate the\nconsequences of what it was doing. Every man seemed to act from impulse\nonly; and the Pope, in throwing himself into the heart of France, acted\nas much from impulse as the thousands who responded to his call. A\ncouncil was eventually summoned to meet him at Clermont, in Auvergne,\nto consider the state of the church, reform abuses, and, above all,\nmake preparations for the war. It was in the midst of an extremely cold\nwinter, and the ground was covered with snow. During seven days the\ncouncil sat with closed doors, while immense crowds from all parts of\nFrance flocked into the town, in expectation that the Pope himself\nwould address the people. All the towns and villages for miles around\nwere filled with the multitude; even the fields were encumbered with\npeople, who, unable to procure lodging, pitched their tents under the\ntrees and by the way-side. All the neighbourhood presented the\nappearance of a vast camp.\n\nDuring the seven days' deliberation, a sentence of excommunication was\npassed upon King Philip for adultery with Bertrade de Montfort,\nCountess of Anjou, and for disobedience to the supreme authority of the\napostolic see. This bold step impressed the people with reverence for\nso stern a church, which in the discharge of its duty showed itself no\nrespecter of persons. Their love and their fear were alike increased,\nand they were prepared to listen with more intense devotion to the\npreaching of so righteous and inflexible a pastor. The great square\nbefore the cathedral church of Clermont became every instant more\ndensely crowded as the hour drew nigh when the Pope was to address the\npopulace. Issuing from the church in his frill canonicals, surrounded\nby his cardinals and bishops in all the splendour of Romish\necclesiastical costume, the Pope stood before the populace on a high\nscaffolding erected for the occasion, and covered with scarlet cloth.\nA brilliant array of bishops and cardinals surrounded him; and among\nthem, humbler in rank, but more important in the world's eye, the\nHermit Peter, dressed in his simple and austere habiliments.\nHistorians differ as to whether or not Peter addressed the crowd, but\nas all agree that he was present, it seems reasonable to suppose that\nhe spoke. But it was the oration of the Pope that was most important.\nAs he lifted up his hands to ensure attention, every voice immediately\nbecame still. He began by detailing the miseries endured by their\nbrethren in the Holy Land; how the plains of Palestine were desolated\nby the outrageous heathen, who with the sword and the firebrand carried\nwailing into the dwellings and flames into the possessions of the\nfaithful; how Christian wives and daughters were defiled by pagan lust;\nhow the altars of the true God were desecrated, and the relics of the\nsaints trodden under foot. \"You,\" continued the eloquent pontiff, (and\nUrban the Second was one of the most eloquent men of the day,) \"you,\nwho hear me, and who have received the true faith, and been endowed by\nGod with power, and strength, and greatness of soul,--whose ancestors\nhave been the prop of Christendom, and whose kings have put a barrier\nagainst the progress of the infidel,--I call upon you to wipe off these\nimpurities from the face of the earth, and lift your oppressed\nfellow-christians from the depths into which they have been trampled.\nThe sepulchre of Christ is possessed by the heathen, the sacred places\ndishonoured by their vileness. Oh, brave knights and faithful people!\noffspring of invincible fathers! ye will not degenerate from your\nancient renown. Ye will not be restrained from embarking in this great\ncause by the tender ties of wife or little ones, but will remember the\nwords of the Saviour of the world himself, 'Whosoever loves father and\nmother more than me is not worthy of me.  Whosoever shall abandon for\nmy name's sake his house, or his brethren, or his sisters, or his\nfather, or his mother, or his wife, or his children, or his lands,\nshall receive a hundredfold, and shall inherit eternal life.'\"\n\nThe warmth of the pontiff communicated itself to the crowd, and the\nenthusiasm of the people broke out several times ere he concluded his\naddress. He went on to pourtray, not only the spiritual but the\ntemporal advantages, that should accrue to those who took up arms in\nthe service of the Cross. Palestine was, he said, a land flowing with\nmilk and honey, and precious in the sight of God, as the scene of the\ngrand events which had saved mankind. That land, he promised, should be\ndivided among them. Moreover, they should have full pardon for all\ntheir offences, either against God or man. \"Go, then,\" he added, \"in\nexpiation of your sins; and go assured, that after this world shall\nhave passed away, imperishable glory shall be yours in the world which\nis to come.\" The enthusiasm was no longer to be restrained, and loud\nshouts interrupted the speaker; the people exclaiming as if with one\nvoice, \"Dieu le veult! Dieu le veult!\" With great presence of mind\nUrban took advantage of the outburst, and as soon as silence was\nobtained, continued: \"Dear brethren, to-day is shown forth in you that\nwhich the Lord has said by his evangelist, 'When two or three are\ngathered together in my name, there will I be in the midst of them to\nbless them.' If the Lord God had not been in your souls, you would not\nall have pronounced the same words; or rather God himself pronounced\nthem by your lips, for it was He that put them in your hearts. Be they,\nthen, your war-cry in the combat, for those words came forth from God.\nLet the army of the Lord when it rushes upon His enemies shout but that\none cry, 'Dieu le veult! Dieu le veult!'  Let whoever is inclined to\ndevote himself to this holy cause make it a solemn engagement, and bear\nthe cross of the Lord either on his breast or his brow till he set out,\nand let him who is ready to begin his march place the holy emblem on\nhis shoulders, in memory of that precept of our Saviour, 'He who does\nnot take up his cross and follow me is not worthy of me.'\"\n\nThe news of this council spread to the remotest parts of Europe in an\nincredibly short space of time. Long before the fleetest horseman could\nhave brought the intelligence it was known by the people in distant\nprovinces, a fact which was considered as nothing less than\nsupernatural. But the subject was in everybody's mouth, and the minds\nof men were prepared for the result. The enthusiastic only asserted\nwhat they wished, and the event tallied with their prediction. This\nwas, however, quite enough in those days for a miracle, and as a\nmiracle every one regarded it.\n\nFor several months after the council of Clermont, France and Germany\npresented a singular spectacle. The pious, the fanatic, the needy, the\ndissolute, the young and the old, even women and children, and the halt\nand lame, enrolled themselves by hundreds. In every village the clergy\nwere busied in keeping up the excitement, promising eternal rewards to\nthose who assumed the red cross, and fulminating the most awful\ndenunciations against all the worldly-minded who refused or even\nhesitated. Every debtor who joined the crusade was freed by the papal\nedict from the claims of his creditors; outlaws of every grade were\nmade equal with the honest upon the same conditions.  The property of\nthose who went was placed under the protection of the church, and St.\nPaul and St. Peter themselves were believed to descend from their high\nabode, to watch over the chattels of the absent pilgrims. Signs and\nportents were seen in the air to increase the fervour of the multitude.\nAn aurora-borealis of unusual brilliancy appeared, and thousands of the\ncrusaders came out to gaze upon it, prostrating themselves upon the\nearth in adoration. It was thought to be a sure prognostic of the\ninterposition of the Most High; and a representation of his armies\nfighting with and overthrowing the infidels. Reports of wonders were\neverywhere rife. A monk had seen two gigantic warriors on horseback,\nthe one representing a Christian and the other a Turk, fighting in the\nsky with flaming swords, the Christian of course overcoming the Paynim.\nMyriads of stars were said to have fallen from heaven, each\nrepresenting the fall of a Pagan foe.  It was believed at the same time\nthat the Emperor Charlemagne would rise from the grave, and lead on to\nvictory the embattled armies of the Lord. A singular feature of the\npopular madness was the enthusiasm of the women. Everywhere they\nencouraged their lovers and husbands to forsake all things for the holy\nwar. Many of them burned the sign of the cross upon their breasts and\narms, and coloured the wound with a red dye, as a lasting memorial of\ntheir zeal. Others, still more zealous, impressed the mark by the same\nmeans upon the tender limbs of young children and infants at the breast.\n\nGuibert de Nogent tells of a monk who made a large incision upon his\nforehead in the form of a cross, which he coloured with some powerful\ningredient, telling the people that an angel had done it when he was\nasleep. This monk appears to have been more of a rogue than a fool, for\nhe contrived to fare more sumptuously than any of his brother pilgrims,\nupon the strength of his sanctity. The crusaders everywhere gave him\npresents of food and money, and he became quite fat ere he arrived at\nJerusalem, notwithstanding the fatigues of the way. If he had\nacknowledged in the first place that he had made the wound himself, he\nwould not have been thought more holy than his fellows; but the story\nof the angel was a clincher.\n\nAll those who had property of any description rushed to the mart to\nchange it into hard cash. Lands and houses could be had for a quarter\nof their value, while arms and accoutrements of war rose in the same\nproportion. Corn, which had been excessively dear in anticipation of a\nyear of scarcity, suddenly became plentiful; and such was the\ndiminution in the value of provisions, that seven sheep were sold for\nfive deniers.[Guibert de Nogent] The nobles mortgaged their estates for\nmere trifles to Jews and unbelievers, or conferred charters of immunity\nupon the towns and communes within their fiefs, for sums which, a few\nyears previously, they would have rejected with disdain. The farmer\nendeavoured to sell his plough, and the artisan his tools, to purchase\na sword for the deliverance of Jerusalem. Women disposed of their\ntrinkets for the same purpose. During the spring and summer of this\nyear (1096) the roads teemed with crusaders, all hastening to the towns\nand villages appointed as the rendezvous of the district. Some were on\nhorseback, some in carts, and some came down the rivers in boats and\nrafts, bringing their wives and children, all eager to go to Jerusalem.\nVery few knew where Jerusalem was. Some thought it fifty thousand miles\naway, while others imagined that it was but a month's journey, while at\nsight of every town or castle, the children exclaimed, \"Is that\nJerusalem? Is that the city?\" [Guibert de Nogent]  Parties of knights\nand nobles might be seen travelling eastward, and amusing themselves as\nthey went with the knightly diversion of hawking to lighten the\nfatigues of the way.\n\nGuibert de Nogent, who did not write from hearsay, but from actual\nobservation, says, the enthusiasm was so contagious, that when any one\nheard the orders of the Pontiff, he went instantly to solicit his\nneighbours and friends to join with him in \"the way of God,\" for so\nthey called the proposed expedition. The Counts Palatine were full of\nthe desire to undertake the journey, and all the inferior knights were\nanimated with the same zeal. Even the poor caught the flame so\nardently, that no one paused to think of the inadequacy of his means,\nor to consider whether he ought to yield up his house and his vine and\nhis fields. Each one set about selling his property, at as low a price\nas if he had been held in some horrible captivity, and sought to pay\nhis ransom without loss of time. Those who had not determined upon the\njourney, joked and laughed at those who were thus disposing of their\ngoods at such ruinous prices, prophesying that the expedition would be\nmiserable and their return worse. But they held this language only for\na day. The next, they were suddenly seized with the same frenzy as the\nrest. Those who had been loudest in their jeers gave up all their\nproperty for a few crowns, and set out with those they had so laughed\nat a few hours before. In most cases the laugh was turned against them,\nfor when it became known that a man was hesitating, his more zealous\nneighbours sent him a present of a knitting needle or a distaff, to\nshow their contempt of him. There was no resisting this, so that the\nfear of ridicule contributed its fair contingent to the armies of the\nLord.\n\nAnother effect of the crusade was, the religious obedience with which\nit inspired the people and the nobility for that singular institution\n\"The Truce of God.\"  At the commencement of the eleventh century, the\nclergy of France, sympathizing for the woes of the people, but unable\nto diminish them, by repressing the rapacity and insolence of the\nfeudal chiefs, endeavoured to promote universal good-will by the\npromulgation of the famous \"Peace of God.\" All who conformed to it\nbound themselves by oath not to take revenge for any injury, not to\nenjoy the fruits of property usurped from others, nor to use deadly\nweapons; in reward of which they would receive remission of all their\nsins. However benevolent the intention of this \"Peace,\" it led to\nnothing but perjury, and violence reigned as uncontrolled as before. In\nthe year 1041 another attempt was made to soften the angry passions of\nthe semi-barbarous chiefs, and the \"Truce of God\" was solemnly\nproclaimed. The truce lasted from the Wednesday evening to the Monday\nmorning of every week, in which interval it was strictly forbidden to\nrecur to violence on any pretext, or to seek revenge for any injury. It\nwas impossible to civilize men by these means; few even promised to\nbecome peaceable for so unconscionable a period as five days a week;\nor, if they did, they made ample amends on the two days left open to\nthem. The truce was afterwards shortened from the Saturday evening to\nthe Monday morning; but little or no diminution of violence and\nbloodshed was the consequence. At the council of Clermont, Urban II.\nagain solemnly proclaimed the truce. So strong was the religious\nfeeling, that every one hastened to obey. All minor passions\ndisappeared before the grand passion of crusading; the noble ceased to\noppress, the robber to plunder, and the people to complain; but one\nidea was in all hearts, and there seemed to be no room for any other.\n\nThe encampments of these heterogeneous multitudes offered a singular\naspect. Those vassals who ranged themselves under the banners of their\nlord, erected tents around his castle; while those who undertook the\nwar on their own account, constructed booths and huts in the\nneighbourhood of the towns or villages, preparatory to their joining\nsome popular leader of the expedition. The meadows of France were\ncovered with tents. As the belligerents were to have remission of all\ntheir sins on their arrival in Palestine, hundreds of them gave\nthemselves up to the most unbounded licentiousness: the courtezan, with\nthe red cross upon her shoulders, plied her shameless trade with\nsensual pilgrims, without scruple on either side: the lover of good\ncheer gave loose rein to his appetite, and drunkenness and debauchery\nflourished. Their zeal in the service of the Lord was to wipe out all\nfaults and follies, and they had the same surety of salvation as the\nrigid anchorite. This reasoning had charms for the ignorant, and the\nsounds of lewd revelry and the voice of prayer rose at the same instant\nfrom the camp.\n\nIt is now time to speak of the leaders of the expedition. Great\nmultitudes ranged themselves under the command of Peter the Hermit,\nwhom, as the originator, they considered the most appropriate leader of\nthe war. Others joined the banner of a bold adventurer, whom history\nhas dignified with no other name than that of Gautier sans Avoir, or\nWalter the Pennyless, but who is represented as having been of noble\nfamily, and well skilled in the art of war. A third multitude from\nGermany flocked around the standard of a monk, named Gottschalk, of\nwhom nothing is known, except that he was a fanatic of the deepest dye.\nAll these bands, which together are said to have amounted to three\nhundred thousand men, women, and children, were composed of the vilest\nrascality of Europe. Without discipline, principle, or true courage,\nthey rushed through the nations like a pestilence, spreading terror and\ndeath wherever they went. The first multitude that set forth was led by\nWalter the Pennyless early in the spring of 1096, within a very few\nmonths after the Council of Clermont. Each man of that irregular host\naspired to be his own master: like their nominal leader, each was poor\nto penury, and trusted for subsistence on his journey to the chances of\nthe road. Rolling through Germany like a tide, they entered Hungary,\nwhere, at first, they were received with some degree of kindness by the\npeople. The latter had not yet caught sufficient of the fire of\nenthusiasm to join the crusade themselves, but were willing enough to\nforward the cause by aiding those embarked in it. Unfortunately, this\ngood understanding did not last long. The swarm were not contented with\nfood for their necessities, but craved for luxuries also: they attacked\nand plundered the dwellings of the country people, and thought nothing\nof murder where resistance was offered. On their arrival before Semlin,\nthe outraged Hungarians collected in large numbers, and, attacking the\nrear of the crusading host, slew a great many of the stragglers, and,\ntaking away their arms and crosses, affixed them as trophies to the\nwalls of the city. Walter appears to have been in no mood or condition\nto make reprisals; for his army, destructive as a plague of locusts\nwhen plunder urged them on, were useless against any regular attack\nfrom a determined enemy.  Their rear continued to be thus harassed by\nthe wrathful Hungarians until they were fairly out of their territory.\nOn his entrance into Bulgaria, Walter met with no better fate; the\ncities and towns refused to let him pass; the villages denied him\nprovisions; and the citizens and country people uniting, slaughtered\nhis followers by hundreds. The progress of the army was more like a\nretreat than an advance; but as it was impossible to stand still,\nWalter continued his course till he arrived at Constantinople, with a\nforce which famine and the sword had diminished to one-third of its\noriginal number.\n\nThe greater multitude, led by the enthusiastic Hermit, followed close\nupon his heels, with a bulky train of baggage, and women and children,\nsufficient to form a host of themselves. If it were possible to find a\nrabble more vile than the army of Walter the Pennyless it was that led\nby Peter the Hermit. Being better provided with means, they were not\nreduced to the necessity of pillage in their progress through Hungary;\nand had they taken any other route than that which led through Semlin,\nmight perhaps have traversed the country without molestation. On their\narrival before that city, their fury was raised at seeing the arms and\nred crosses of their predecessors hanging as trophies over the gates.\nTheir pent-up ferocity exploded at the sight.  The city was\ntumultuously attacked, and the besiegers entering, not by dint of\nbravery, but of superior numbers, it was given up to all the horrors\nwhich follow when Victory, Brutality, and Licentiousness are linked\ntogether. Every evil passion was allowed to revel with impunity, and\nrevenge, lust, and avarice,--each had its hundred victims in unhappy\nSemlin. Any maniac can kindle a conflagration, but it requires many\nwise men to put it out. Peter the Hermit had blown the popular fury\ninto a flame, but to cool it again was beyond his power. His followers\nrioted unrestrained, until the fear of retaliation warned them to\ndesist. When the King of Hungary was informed of the disasters of\nSemlin, he marched with a sufficient force to chastise the Hermit, who\nat the news broke up his camp and retreated towards the Morava, a broad\nand rapid stream that joins the Danube a few miles to the eastward of\nBelgrade. Here a party of indignant Bulgarians awaited him, and so\nharassed him as to make the passage of the river a task both of\ndifficulty and danger. Great numbers of his infatuated followers\nperished in the waters, and many fell under the swords of the\nBulgarians. The ancient chronicles do not mention the amount of the\nHermit's loss at this passage, but represent it in general terms as\nvery great.\n\nAt Nissa the Duke of Bulgaria fortified himself, in fear of an assault;\nbut Peter, having learned a little wisdom from experience, thought it\nbest to avoid hostilities. He passed three nights in quietness under\nthe walls, and the duke, not wishing to exasperate unnecessarily so\nfierce and rapacious a host, allowed the townspeople to supply them\nwith provisions. Peter took his departure peaceably on the following\nmorning, but some German vagabonds falling behind the main body of the\narmy, set fire to the mills and house of a Bulgarian, with whom, it\nappears, they had had some dispute on the previous evening. The\ncitizens of Nissa, who had throughout mistrusted the crusaders, and\nwere prepared for the worst, sallied out immediately, and took signal\nvengeance. The spoilers were cut to pieces, and the townspeople\npursuing the Hermit, captured all the women and children who had lagged\nin the rear, and a great quantity of baggage. Peter hereupon turned\nround and marched back to Nissa, to demand explanation of the Duke of\nBulgaria. The latter fairly stated the provocation given, and the\nHermit could urge nothing in palliation of so gross an outrage. A\nnegotiation was entered into which promised to be successful, and the\nBulgarians were about to deliver up the women and children when a party\nof undisciplined crusaders, acting solely upon their own suggestion,\nendeavoured to scale the walls and seize upon the town. Peter in vain\nexerted his authority; the confusion became general, and after a short\nbut desperate battle, the crusaders threw down their arms and fled in\nall directions. Their vast host was completely routed, the slaughter\nbeing so great among them as to be counted, not by hundreds, but by\nthousands.\n\nIt is said that the Hermit fled from this fatal field to a forest a few\nmiles from Nissa, abandoned by every human creature. It would be\ncurious to know whether, after so dire a reverse,\n\n  . . . . . . . . . . \"His enpierced breast\n  Sharp sorrow did in thousand pieces rive,\"\n\nor whether his fiery zeal still rose superior to calamity, and pictured\nthe eventual triumph of his cause. He, so lately the leader of a\nhundred thousand men, was now a solitary skulker in the forests, liable\nat every instant to be discovered by some pursuing Bulgarian, and cut\noff in mid career. Chance at last brought him within sight of an\neminence where two or three of his bravest knights had collected five\nhundred of the stragglers. These gladly received the Hermit, and a\nconsultation having taken place, it was resolved to gather together the\nscattered remnants of the army. Fires were lighted on the hill, and\nscouts sent out in all directions for the fugitives. Horns were sounded\nat intervals to make known that friends were near, and before nightfall\nthe Hermit saw himself at the head of seven thousand men.  During the\nsucceeding day he was joined by twenty thousand more, and with this\nmiserable remnant of his force he pursued his route towards\nConstantinople. The bones of the rest mouldered in the forests of\nBulgaria.\n\nOn his arrival at Constantinople, where he found Walter the Pennyless\nawaiting him, he was hospitably received by the Emperor Alexius. It\nmight have been expected that the sad reverses they had undergone would\nhave taught his followers common prudence; but, unhappily for them,\ntheir turbulence and love of plunder were not to be restrained.\nAlthough they were surrounded by friends, by whom all their wants were\nliberally supplied, they could not refrain from rapine. In vain the\nHermit exhorted them to tranquillity; he possessed no more power over\nthem, in subduing their passions, than the obscurest soldier of the\nhost, They set fire to several public buildings in Constantinople, out\nof pure mischief, and stripped the lead from the roofs of the churches,\nwhich, they afterwards sold for old metal in the purlieus of the city.\nFrom this time may be dated the aversion which the Emperor Alexius\nentertained for the crusaders, and which was afterwards manifested in\nall his actions, even when he had to deal with the chivalrous and more\nhonourable armies which arrived after the Hermit. He seems to have\nimagined that the Turks themselves were enemies less formidable to his\npower than these outpourings of the refuse of Europe: he soon found a\npretext to hurry them into Asia Minor. Peter crossed the Bosphorus with\nWalter, but the excesses of his followers were such, that, despairing\nof accomplishing any good end by remaining at their head, he left them\nto themselves, and returned to Constantinople, on the pretext of making\narrangements with the government of Alexius for a proper supply of\nprovisions. The crusaders, forgetting that they were in the enemy's\ncountry, and that union, above all things, was desirable, gave\nthemselves up to dissensions. Violent disputes arose between the\nLombards and Normans, commanded by Walter the Pennyless, and the Franks\nand Germans, led out by Peter. The latter separated themselves from the\nformer, and, choosing for their leader one Reinaldo, or Reinhold,\nmarched forward, and took possession of the fortress of Exorogorgon.\nThe Sultan Solimaun was on the alert, with a superior force. A party of\ncrusaders, which had been detached from the fort, and stationed at a\nlittle distance as an ambuscade, were surprised and cut to pieces, and\nExorogorgon invested on all sides. The siege was protracted for eight\ndays, during which the Christians suffered the most acute agony from\nthe want of water. It is hard to say how long the hope of succour or\nthe energy of despair would have enabled them to hold out: their\ntreacherous leader cut the matter short by renouncing the Christian\nfaith, and delivering up the fort into the hands of the Sultan. He was\nfollowed by two or three of his officers; all the rest, refusing to\nbecome Mahometans, were ruthlessly put to the sword. Thus perished the\nlast wretched remnant of the vast multitude which had traversed Europe\nwith Peter the Hermit.\n\nWalter the Pennyless and his multitude met as miserable a fate. On the\nnews of the disasters of Exorogorgon, they demanded to be led instantly\nagainst the Turks. Walter, who only wanted good soldiers to have made a\ngood general, was cooler of head, and saw all the dangers of such a\nstep. His force was wholly insufficient to make any decisive movement\nin a country where the enemy was so much superior, and where, in case\nof defeat, he had no secure position to fall back upon; and he\ntherefore expressed his opinion against advancing until the arrival of\nreinforcements. This prudent counsel found no favour: the army loudly\nexpressed their dissatisfaction at their chief, and prepared to march\nforward without him. Upon this, the brave Walter put himself at their\nhead, and rushed to destruction. Proceeding towards Nice, the modern\nIsnik, he was intercepted by the army of the Sultan: a fierce battle\nensued in which the Turks made fearful havoc; out of twenty-five\nthousand Christians, twenty-two thousand were slain, and among them\nGautier himself, who fell pierced by seven mortal wounds. The remaining\nthree thousand retreated upon Civitot, where they intrenched themselves.\n\nDisgusted as was Peter the Hermit at the excesses of the multitude,\nwho, at his call, had forsaken Europe, his heart was moved with grief\nand pity at their misfortunes. All his former zeal revived: casting\nhimself at the feet of the Emperor Alexius, he implored him, with tears\nin his eyes, to send relief to the few survivors at Civitot. The\nEmperor consented, and a force was sent, which arrived just in time to\nsave them from destruction. The Turks had beleaguered the place, and\nthe crusaders were reduced to the last extremity.  Negotiations were\nentered into, and the last three thousand were conducted in safety to\nConstantinople. Alexius had suffered too much by their former excesses\nto be very desirous of retaining them in his capital: he therefore\ncaused them all to be disarmed, and, furnishing each with a sum of\nmoney, he sent them back to their own country.  While these events were\ntaking place, fresh hordes were issuing from the woods and wilds of\nGermany, all bent for the Holy Land. They were commanded by a fanatical\npriest, named Gottschalk, who, like Gautier and Peter the Hermit, took\nhis way through Hungary. History is extremely meagre in her details of\nthe conduct and fate of this host, which amounted to at least one\nhundred thousand men. Robbery and murder seem to have journeyed with\nthem, and the poor Hungarians were rendered almost desperate by their\nnumbers and rapacity. Karloman, the king of the country, made a bold\neffort to get rid of them; for the resentment of his people had arrived\nat such a height, that nothing short of the total extermination of the\ncrusaders would satisfy them.  Gottschalk had to pay the penalty, not\nonly for the ravages of his own bands, but for those of the swarms that\nhad come before him. He and his army were induced, by some means or\nother, to lay down their arms: the savage Hungarians, seeing them thus\ndefenceless, set upon them, and slaughtered them in great numbers. How\nmany escaped their arrows, we are not informed; but not one of them\nreached Palestine.\n\nOther swarms, under nameless leaders, issued from Germany and France,\nmore brutal and more frantic than any that had preceded them.  Their\nfanaticism surpassed by far the wildest freaks of the followers of the\nHermit. In bands, varying in numbers from one to five thousand, they\ntraversed the country in all directions, bent upon plunder and\nmassacre. They wore the symbol of the crusade upon their shoulders, but\ninveighed against the folly of proceeding to the Holy Land to destroy\nthe Turks, while they left behind them so many Jews, the still more\ninveterate enemies of Christ. They swore fierce vengeance against this\nunhappy race, and murdered all the Hebrews they could lay their hands\non, first subjecting them to the most horrible mutilation.  According\nto the testimony of Albert Aquensis, they lived among each other in the\nmost shameless profligacy, and their vice was only exceeded by their\nsuperstition. Whenever they were in search of Jews, they were preceded\nby a goose and goat, which they believed to be holy, and animated with\ndivine power to discover the retreats of the unbelievers. In Germany\nalone they slaughtered more than a thousand Jews, notwithstanding all\nthe efforts of the clergy to save them. So dreadful was the cruelty of\ntheir tormentors, that great numbers of Jews committed self-destruction\nto avoid falling into their hands.\n\nAgain it fell to the lot of the Hungarians to deliver Europe from these\npests. When there were no more Jews to murder, the bands collected in\none body, and took the old route to the Holy Land, a route stained with\nthe blood of three hundred thousand who had gone before, and destined\nalso to receive theirs. The number of these swarms has never been\nstated; but so many of them perished in Hungary, that contemporary\nwriters, despairing of giving any adequate idea of their multitudes,\nstate that the fields were actually heaped with their corpses, and that\nfor miles in its course the waters of the Danube were dyed with their\nblood. It was at Mersburg, on the Danube, that the greatest slaughter\ntook place,--a slaughter so great as to amount almost to extermination.\nThe Hungarians for a while disputed the passage of the river, but the\ncrusaders forced their way across, and attacking the city with the\nblind courage of madness, succeeded in making a breach in the walls. At\nthis moment of victory an unaccountable fear came over them. Throwing\ndown their arms they fled panic-stricken, no one knew why, and no one\nknew whither. The Hungarians followed, sword in hand, and cut them down\nwithout remorse, and in such numbers, that the stream of the Danube is\nsaid to have been choked up by their unburied bodies.\n\nThis was the worst paroxysm of the madness of Europe; and this passed,\nher chivalry stepped upon the scene. Men of cool heads, mature plans,\nand invincible courage stood forward to lead and direct the grand\nmovement of Europe upon Asia. It is upon these men that romance has\nlavished her most admiring epithets, leaving to the condemnation of\nhistory the vileness and brutality of those who went before. Of these\nleaders the most distinguished were Godfrey of Bouillon Duke of\nLorraine, and Raymond Count of Toulouse. Four other chiefs of the royal\nblood of Europe also assumed the Cross, and led each his army to the\nHoly Land: Hugh, Count of Vermandois, brother of the King of France;\nRobert, Duke of Normandy, the elder brother of William Rufus; Robert\nCount of Flanders, and Boemund Prince of Tarentum, eldest son of the\ncelebrated Robert Guiscard. These men were all tinged with the\nfanaticism of the age, but none of them acted entirely from religious\nmotives. They were neither utterly reckless like Gautier sans Avoir,\ncrazy like Peter the Hermit, nor brutal like Gottschalk the Monk, but\npossessed each of these qualities in a milder form; their valour being\ntempered by caution, their religious zeal by worldly views, and their\nferocity by the spirit of chivalry. They saw whither led the torrent of\nthe public will; and it being neither their wish nor their interest to\nstem it, they allowed themselves to be carried with it, in the hope\nthat it would lead them at last to a haven of aggrandizement. Around\nthem congregated many minor chiefs, the flower of the nobility of\nFrance and Italy, with some few from Germany, England, and Spain. It\nwas wisely conjectured that armies so numerous would find a difficulty\nin procuring provisions if they all journeyed by the same road. They,\ntherefore, resolved to separate, Godfrey de Bouillon proceeding through\nHungary and Bulgaria, the Count of Toulouse through Lombardy and\nDalmatia, and the other leaders through Apulia to Constantinople, where\nthe several divisions were to reunite. The forces under these leaders\nhave been variously estimated. The Princess Anna Comnena talks of them\nas having been as numerous as the sands on the sea-shore, or the stars\nin the firmament. Fulcher of Chartres is more satisfactory, and\nexaggerates less magnificently, when he states, that all the divisions,\nwhen they had sat down before Nice in Bithynia, amounted to one hundred\nthousand horsemen, and six hundred thousand men on foot, exclusive of\nthe priests, women and children. Gibbon is of opinion that this amount\nis exaggerated; but thinks the actual numbers did not fall very far\nshort of the calculation. The Princess Anna afterwards gives the number\nof those under Godfrey of Bouillon as eighty thousand foot and horse;\nand supposing that each of the other chiefs led an army as numerous,\nthe total would be near half a million. This must be over rather than\nunder the mark, as the army of Godfrey of Bouillon was confessedly the\nlargest when it set out, and suffered less by the way than any other.\n\nThe Count of Vermandois was the first who set foot on the Grecian\nterritory. On his arrival at Durazzo he was received with every mark of\nrespect and courtesy by the agents of the Emperor, and his followers\nwere abundantly supplied with provisions. Suddenly however, and without\ncause assigned, the Count was arrested by order of the Emperor Alexius,\nand conveyed a close prisoner to Constantinople.  Various motives have\nbeen assigned by different authors as having induced the Emperor to\nthis treacherous and imprudent proceeding. By every writer he has been\ncondemned for so flagrant a breach of hospitality and justice. The most\nprobable reason for his conduct appears to be that suggested by Guibert\nof Nogent, who states that Alexius, fearful of the designs of the\ncrusaders upon his throne, resorted to this extremity in order\nafterwards to force the Count to take the oath of allegiance to him, as\nthe price of his liberation.  The example of a prince so eminent as the\nbrother of the King of France, would, he thought, be readily followed\nby the other chiefs of the Crusade. In the result he was wofully\ndisappointed, as every man deserves to be who commits positive evil\nthat doubtful good may ensue.  But this line of policy accorded well\nenough with the narrowmindedness of the Emperor, who, in the enervating\natmosphere of his highly civilized and luxurious court, dreaded the\ninflux of the hardy and ambitious warriors of the West, and strove to\nnibble away by unworthy means, the power which he had not energy enough\nto confront. If danger to himself had existed from the residence of the\nchiefs in his dominions, he might easily have averted it, by the simple\nmeans of placing himself at the head of the European movement, and\ndirecting its energies to their avowed object, the conquest of the Holy\nLand.  But the Emperor, instead of being, as he might have been, the\nlord and leader of the Crusades, which he had himself aided in no\ninconsiderable degree to suscitate by his embassies to the Pope, became\nthe slave of men who hated and despised him. No doubt the barbarous\nexcesses of the followers of Gautier and Peter the Hermit made him look\nupon the whole body of them with disgust, but it was the disgust of a\nlittle mind, which is glad of any excuse to palliate or justify its own\nirresolution and love of ease.\n\nGodfrey of Bouillon traversed Hungary in the most quiet and orderly\nmanner. On his arrival at Mersburg he found the country strewed with\nthe mangled corpses of the Jew-killers, and demanded of the King of\nHungary for what reason his people had set upon them. The latter\ndetailed the atrocities they had committed, and made it so evident to\nGodfrey that the Hungarians had only acted in self-defence, that the\nhigh-minded leader declared himself satisfied and passed on, without\ngiving or receiving molestation. On his arrival at Philippopoli, he was\ninformed for the first time of the imprisonment of the Count of\nVermandois. He immediately sent messengers to the Emperor, demanding\nthe Count's release, and threatening, in case of refusal, to lay waste\nthe country with fire and sword. After waiting a day at Philippopoli he\nmarched on to Adrianople, where he was met by his messengers returning\nwith the Emperor's refusal. Godfrey, the bravest and most determined of\nthe leaders of the Crusade, was not a man to swerve from his word, and\nthe country was given up to pillage.  Alexius here committed another\nblunder. No sooner did he learn from dire experience that the crusader\nwas not an utterer of idle threats, than he consented to the release of\nthe prisoner. As he had been unjust in the first instance, he became\ncowardly in the second, and taught his enemies (for so the crusaders\nwere forced to consider themselves) a lesson which they took care to\nremember to his cost, that they could hope nothing from his sense of\njustice, but every thing from his fears. Godfrey remained encamped for\nseveral weeks in the neighbourhood of Constantinople, to the great\nannoyance of Alexius, who sought by every means to extort from him the\nhomage he had extorted from Vermandois. Sometimes he acted as if at\nopen and declared war with the crusaders, and sent his troops against\nthem.  Sometimes he refused to supply them with food, and ordered the\nmarkets to be shut against them, while at other times he was all for\npeace and goodwill, and sent costly presents to Godfrey. The honest,\nstraightforward crusader was at last so wearied by his false kindness,\nand so pestered by his attacks, that, allowing his indignation to get\nthe better of his judgment, he gave up the country around\nConstantinople to be plundered by his soldiers. For six days the flames\nof the farm-houses around struck terror into the heart of Alexius, but\nas Godfrey anticipated they convinced him of his error.  Fearing that\nConstantinople itself would be the next object of attack, he sent\nmessengers to demand an interview with Godfrey, offering at the same\ntime to leave his son as a hostage for his good faith.  Godfrey agreed\nto meet him, and, whether to put an end to these useless dissensions,\nor for some other unexplained reason, he rendered homage to Alexius as\nhis liege lord. He was thereupon loaded with honours, and, according to\na singular custom of that age, underwent the ceremony of the \"adoption\nof honour,\" as son to the Emperor.  Godfrey, and his brother Baudouin\nde Bouillon, conducted themselves with proper courtesy on this\noccasion, but were not able to restrain the insolence of their\nfollowers, who did not conceive themselves bound to keep any terms with\na man so insincere as he had shown himself. One barbarous chieftain,\nCount Robert of Paris, carried his insolence so far as to seat himself\nupon the throne, an insult which Alexius merely resented with a sneer,\nbut which did not induce him to look with less mistrust upon the hordes\nthat were still advancing.\n\nIt is impossible, notwithstanding his treachery, to avoid feeling some\ncompassion for the Emperor, whose life at this time was rendered one\nlong scene of misery by the presumption of the crusaders, and his not\naltogether groundless fears of the evil they might inflict upon him,\nshould any untoward circumstance force the current of their ambition to\nthe conquest of his empire. His daughter, Anna Comnena, feelingly\ndeplores his state of life at this time, and a learned German, [M.\nWilken's Geschichte der Kreuzzuge.] in a recent work, describes it, on\nthe authority of the Princess, in the following manner:--\n\n\"To avoid all occasion of offence to the Crusaders, Alexius complied\nwith all their whims, and their (on many occasions) unreasonable\ndemands, even at the expense of great bodily exertion, at a time when\nhe was suffering severely under the gout, which eventually brought him\nto his grave. No crusader who desired an interview with him was refused\naccess: he listened with the utmost patience to the long-winded\nharangues which their loquacity or zeal continually wearied him with:\nhe endured, without expressing any impatience, the unbecoming and\nhaughty language which they permitted themselves to employ towards him,\nand severely reprimanded his officers when they undertook to defend the\ndignity of the Imperial station from these rude assaults; for he\ntrembled with apprehension at the slightest disputes, lest they might\nbecome the occasion of greater evil. Though the Counts often appeared\nbefore him with trains altogether unsuitable to their dignity and to\nhis--sometimes with an entire troop, which completely filled the Royal\napartment--the Emperor held his peace.  He listened to them at all\nhours; he often seated himself on his throne at day-break to attend to\ntheir wishes and requests, and the evening twilight saw him still in\nthe same place. Very frequently he could not snatch time to refresh\nhimself with meat and drink. During many nights he could not obtain any\nrepose, and was obliged to indulge in an unrefreshing sleep upon his\nthrone, with his head resting on his hands. Even this slumber was\ncontinually disturbed by the appearance and harangues of some\nnewly-arrived rude knights. When all the courtiers, wearied out by the\nefforts of the day and by night-watching, could no longer keep\nthemselves on their feet, and sank down exhausted--some upon benches\nand others on the floor--Alexius still rallied his strength to listen\nwith seeming attention to the wearisome chatter of the Latins, that\nthey might have no occasion or pretext for discontent. In such a state\nof fear and anxiety, how could Alexius comport himself with dignity and\nlike an Emperor?\"\n\nAlexius, however, had himself to blame, in a great measure, for the\nindignities he suffered: owing to his insincerity, the crusaders\nmistrusted him so much, that it became at last a common saying, that\nthe Turks and Saracens were not such inveterate foes to the Western or\nLatin Christians as the Emperor Alexius and the Greeks.[Wilken] It\nwould be needless in this sketch, which does not profess to be so much\na history of the Crusades as of the madness of Europe, from which they\nsprang, to detail the various acts of bribery and intimidation,\ncajolery and hostility, by which Alexius contrived to make each of the\nleaders in succession, as they arrived, take the oath of allegiance to\nhim as their Suzerain. One way or another he exacted from each the\nbarren homage on which he had set his heart, and they were then allowed\nto proceed into Asia Minor. One only, Raymond de St. Gilles, Count of\nToulouse, obstinately refused the homage.\n\nTheir residence in Constantinople was productive of no good to the\narmies of the Cross. Bickerings and contentions on the one hand, and\nthe influence of a depraved and luxurious court on the other, destroyed\nthe elasticity of their spirits, and cooled the first ardour of their\nenthusiasm. At one time the army of the Count of Toulouse was on the\npoint of disbanding itself; and, had not their leader energetically\nremoved them across the Bosphorus, this would have been the result.\nOnce in Asia, their spirits in some degree revived, and the presence of\ndanger and difficulty nerved them to the work they had undertaken. The\nfirst operation of the war was the siege of Nice, to gain possession of\nwhich all their efforts were directed.\n\nGodfrey of Bouillon and the Count of Vermandois were joined under its\nwalls by each host in succession, as it left Constantinople. Among the\ncelebrated crusaders who fought at this siege, we find, besides the\nleaders already mentioned, the brave and generous Tancred, whose name\nand fame have been immortalized in the Gerusalemme Liberata, the\nvalorous Bishop of Puy, Baldwin, afterwards King of Jerusalem, and\nPeter the Hermit, now an almost solitary soldier, shorn of all the\npower and influence he had formerly possessed. Kilij Aslaun, the Sultan\nof Roum, and chief of the Seljukian Turks, whose deeds, surrounded by\nthe false halo of romance, are familiar to the readers of Tasso, under\nthe name of Soliman, marched to defend this city, but was defeated\nafter several obstinate engagements, in which the Christians showed a\ndegree of heroism that quite astonished him. The Turkish chief had\nexpected to find a wild undisciplined multitude, like that under Peter\nthe Hermit, without leaders capable of enforcing obedience; instead of\nwhich he found the most experienced leaders of the age at the head of\narmies that had just fanaticism enough to be ferocious, but not enough\nto render them ungovernable. In these engagements, many hundreds fell\non both sides; and on both sides the most revolting barbarity was\npractised: the crusaders cut off the heads of the fallen Mussulmans,\nand sent them in paniers to Constantinople, as trophies of their\nvictory. After the temporary defeat of Kilij Aslaun, the siege of Nice\nwas carried on with redoubled vigour. The Turks defended themselves\nwith the greatest obstinacy, and discharged showers of poisoned arrows\nupon the crusaders. When any unfortunate wretch was killed under the\nwalls, they let down iron hooks from above, and drew the body up,\nwhich, after stripping and mutilating, they threw back again at the\nbesiegers. The latter were well supplied with provisions, and for\nsix-and-thirty days the siege continued without any relaxation of the\nefforts on either side. Many tales are told of the almost superhuman\nheroism of the Christian leaders--how one man put a thousand to flight;\nand how the arrows of the faithful never missed their mark.  One\nanecdote of Godfrey of Bouillon, related by Albert of Aix, is worth\nrecording, not only as showing the high opinion entertained of his\nvalour, but as showing the contagious credulity of the armies--a\ncredulity which as often led them to the very verge of defeat, as it\nincited them to victory. One Turk, of gigantic stature, took his\nstation day by day on the battlements of Nice, and, bearing an enormous\nbow, committed great havoc among the Christian host. Not a shaft he\nsped, but bore death upon its point; and, although the Crusaders aimed\nrepeatedly at his breast, and he stood in the most exposed position,\ntheir arrows fell harmless at his feet. He seemed to be invulnerable to\nattack; and a report was soon spread abroad, that he was no other than\nthe Arch Fiend himself, and that mortal hand could not prevail against\nhim. Godfrey of Bouillon, who had no faith in the supernatural\ncharacter of the Mussulman, determined, if possible, to put an end to\nthe dismay which was rapidly paralyzing the exertions of his best\nsoldiers. Taking a huge cross-bow, he stood forward in front of the\narmy, to try the steadiness of his hand against the much-dreaded\narcher: the shaft was aimed directly at his heart, and took fatal\neffect. The Moslem fell amid the groans of the besieged, and the shouts\nof Deus adjuva! Deus adjuva! the war-cry of the besiegers.\n\nAt last the crusaders imagined that they had overcome all obstacles,\nand were preparing to take possession of the city, when to their great\nastonishment they saw the flag of the Emperor Alexius flying from the\nbattlements. An emissary of the Emperor, named Faticius or Tatin, had\ncontrived to gain admission with a body of Greek troops at a point\nwhich the crusaders had left unprotected, and had persuaded the Turks\nto surrender to him rather than to the crusading forces. The greatest\nindignation prevailed in the army when this stratagem was discovered,\nand the soldiers were, with the utmost difficulty, prevented from\nrenewing the attack and besieging the Greek emissary.\n\nThe army, however, continued its march, and by some means or other was\nbroken into two divisions; some historians say accidentally, [Fulcher\nof Chartres.--Guibert de Nogent.--Vital.] while others affirm by mutual\nconsent, and for the convenience of obtaining provisions on the way.\n[William of Tyre.--Mills.--Wilken, &c.] The one division was composed\nof the forces under Bohemund, Tancred, and the Duke of Normandy; while\nthe other, which took a route at some distance on the right, was\ncommanded by Godfrey of Bouillon and the other chiefs. The Sultan of\nRoum, who, after his losses at Nice, had been silently making great\nefforts to crush the crusaders at one blow, collected in a very short\ntime all the multitudinous tribes that owed him allegiance, and with an\narmy which, according to a moderate calculation, amounted to two\nhundred thousand men, chiefly cavalry, he fell upon the first division\nof the Christian host in the valley of Dorylaeum. It was early in the\nmorning of the 1st of July 1097, when the crusaders saw the first\ncompanies of the Turkish horsemen pouring down upon them from the\nhills. Bohemund had hardly time to set himself in order, and transport\nhis sick and helpless to the rear, when the overwhelming force of the\nOrientals was upon him. The Christian army, composed principally of men\non foot, gave way on all sides, and the hoofs of the Turkish steeds,\nand the poisoned arrows of their bowmen, mowed them down by hundreds.\nAfter having lost the flower of their chivalry, the Christians\nretreated upon their baggage, when a dreadful slaughter took place.\nNeither women nor children, nor the sick, were spared. Just as they\nwere reduced to the last extremity, Godfrey of Bouillon and the Count\nof Toulouse made their appearance on the field, and turned the tide of\nbattle. After an obstinate engagement the Turks fled, and their rich\ncamp fell into the bands of the enemy. The loss of the crusaders\namounted to about four thousand men, with several chiefs of renown,\namong whom were Count Robert of Paris and William the brother of\nTancred. The loss of the Turks, which did not exceed this number,\ntaught them to pursue a different mode of warfare. The Sultan was far\nfrom being defeated. With his still gigantic army, he laid waste all\nthe country on either side of the crusaders. The latter, who were\nunaware of the tactics of the enemy, found plenty of provisions in the\nTurkish camp; but so far from economizing these resources, they gave\nthemselves up for several days to the most unbounded extravagance. They\nsoon paid dearly for their heedlessness.  In the ravaged country of\nPhrygia, through which they advanced towards Antiochetta, they suffered\ndreadfully for want of food for themselves and pasture for their\ncattle. Above them was a scorching sun, almost sufficient of itself to\ndry up the freshness of the land, a task which the firebrands of the\nSultan had but too surely effected, and water was not to be had after\nthe first day of their march. The pilgrims died at the rate of five\nhundred a-day. The horses of the knights perished on the road, and the\nbaggage which they had aided to transport, was either placed upon dogs,\nsheep, and swine, or abandoned altogether. In some of the calamities\nthat afterwards befell them, the Christians gave themselves up to the\nmost reckless profligacy; but upon this occasion, the dissensions which\nprosperity had engendered, were all forgotten. Religion, often\ndisregarded, arose in the stern presence of misfortune, and cheered\nthem as they died by the promises of eternal felicity.\n\nAt length they reached Antiochetta, where they found water in\nabundance, and pastures for their expiring cattle. Plenty once more\nsurrounded them, and here they pitched their tents. Untaught by the\nbitter experience of famine, they again gave themselves up to luxury\nand waste.\n\nOn the 18th of October they sat down before the strong city of Antioch,\nthe siege of which, and the events to which it gave rise, are among the\nmost extraordinary incidents of the Crusade. The city, which is\nsituated on an eminence, and washed by the river Orontes, is naturally\na very strong position, and the Turkish garrison were well supplied\nwith provisions to endure a long siege. In this respect the Christians\nwere also fortunate, but, unluckily for themselves, unwise.  Their\nforce amounted to three hundred thousand fighting men; and we are\ninformed by Raymond d'Argilles, that they had so much provision, that\nthey threw away the greater part of every animal they killed, being so\ndainty, that they would only eat particular parts of the beast. So\ninsane was their extravagance, that in less than ten days famine began\nto stare them in the face. After making a fruitless attempt to gain\npossession of the city by a coup de main, they, starving themselves,\nsat down to starve out the enemy. But with want came a cooling of\nenthusiasm. The chiefs began to grow weary of the expedition. Baldwin\nhad previously detached himself from the main body of the army, and,\nproceeding to Edessa, had intrigued himself into the supreme power in\nthat little principality. The other leaders were animated with less\nzeal than heretofore. Stephen of Chartres and Hugh of Vermandois began\nto waver, unable to endure the privations which their own folly and\nprofusion had brought upon them. Even Peter the Hermit became sick at\nheart ere all was over. When the famine had become so urgent that they\nwere reduced to eat human flesh in the extremity of their hunger,\nBohemund and Robert of Flanders set forth on an expedition to procure a\nsupply. They were in a slight degree successful; but the relief they\nbrought was not economized, and in two days they were as destitute as\nbefore. Faticius, the Greek commander and representative of Alexius,\ndeserted with his division under pretence of seeking for food, and his\nexample was followed by various bodies of crusaders.\n\nMisery was rife among those who remained, and they strove to alleviate\nit by a diligent attention to signs and omens. These, with\nextraordinary visions seen by the enthusiastic, alternately cheered and\ndepressed them according as they foretold the triumph or pictured the\nreverses of the Cross. At one time a violent hurricane arose, levelling\ngreat trees with the ground, and blowing down the tents of the\nChristian leaders. At another time an earthquake shook the camp, and\nwas thought to prognosticate some great impending evil to the cause of\nChristendom. But a comet which appeared shortly afterwards, raised them\nfrom the despondency into which they had fallen; their lively\nimaginations making it assume the form of a flaming cross leading them\non to victory. Famine was not the least of the evils they endured.\nUnwholesome food, and the impure air from the neighbouring marshes,\nengendered pestilential diseases, which carried them off more rapidly\nthan the arrows of the enemy. A thousand of them died in a day, and it\nbecame at last a matter of extreme difficulty to afford them burial. To\nadd to their misery, each man grew suspicious of his neighbour; for the\ncamp was infested by Turkish spies, who conveyed daily to the besieged\nintelligence of the movements and distresses of the enemy. With a\nferocity, engendered by despair, Bohemund caused two spies, whom he had\ndetected, to be roasted alive in presence of the army, and within sight\nof the battlements of Antioch. But even this example failed to reduce\ntheir numbers, and the Turks continued to be as well informed as the\nChristians themselves of all that was passing in the camp.\n\nThe news of the arrival of a reinforcement of soldiers from Europe,\nwith an abundant stock of provisions, came to cheer them when reduced\nto the last extremity. The welcome succour landed at St.  Simeon, the\nport of Antioch, and about six miles from that city.  Thitherwards the\nfamishing crusaders proceeded in tumultuous bands, followed by Bohemund\nand the Count of Toulouse, with strong detachments of their retainers\nand vassals, to escort the supplies in safety to the camp. The garrison\nof Antioch, forewarned of this arrival, was on the alert, and a corps\nof Turkish archers was despatched to lie in ambuscade among the\nmountains and intercept their return. Bohemund, laden with provisions,\nwas encountered in the rocky passes by the Turkish host. Great numbers\nof his followers were slain, and he himself had just time to escape to\nthe camp with the news of his defeat. Godfrey of Bouillon, the Duke of\nNormandy, and the other leaders had heard the rumour of this battle,\nand were at that instant preparing for the rescue. The army was\nimmediately in motion, animated both by zeal and by hunger, and marched\nso rapidly as to intercept the victorious Turks before they had time to\nreach Antioch with their spoil. A fierce battle ensued, which lasted\nfrom noon till the going down of the sun. The Christians gained and\nmaintained the advantage, each man fighting as if upon himself alone\nhad depended the fortune of the day. Hundreds of Turks perished in the\nOrontes, and more than two thousand were left dead upon the field of\nbattle. All the provision was recaptured and brought in safety to the\ncamp, whither the crusaders returned singing Allelulia! or shouting\nDeus adjuva! Deus adjuva!\n\nThis relief lasted for some days, and, had it been duly economized,\nwould have lasted much longer; but the chiefs had no authority, and\nwere unable to exercise any control over its distribution. Famine again\napproached with rapid strides, and Stephen Count of Blois, not liking\nthe prospect, withdrew from the camp, with four thousand of his\nretainers, and established himself at Alexandretta. The moral influence\nof this desertion was highly prejudicial upon those who remained; and\nBohemund, the most impatient and ambitious of the chiefs, foresaw that,\nunless speedily checked, it would lead to the utter failure of the\nexpedition. It was necessary to act decisively; the army murmured at\nthe length of the siege, and the Sultan was collecting his forces to\ncrush them. Against the efforts of the crusaders Antioch might have\nheld out for months; but treason within effected that, which courage\nwithout might have striven for in vain.\n\nBaghasihan, the Turkish Prince or Emir of Antioch, had under his\ncommand an Armenian of the name of Phirouz, whom he had intrusted with\nthe defence of a tower on that part of the city wall which overlooked\nthe passes of the mountains. Bohemund, by means of a spy who had\nembraced the Christian religion, and to whom he had given his own name\nat baptism, kept up a daily communication with this captain, and made\nhim the most magnificent promises of reward, if he would deliver up his\npost to the Christian knights. Whether the proposal was first made by\nBohemund or by the Armenian is uncertain, but that a good understanding\nsoon existed between them, is undoubted; and a night was fixed for the\nexecution of the project. Bohemund communicated the scheme to Godfrey\nand the Count of Toulouse, with the stipulation that, if the city were\nwon, he, as the soul of the enterprise, should enjoy the dignity of\nPrince of Antioch. The other leaders hesitated: ambition and jealousy\nprompted them to refuse their aid in furthering the views of the\nintriguer. More mature consideration decided them to acquiesce, and\nseven hundred of the bravest knights were chosen for the expedition,\nthe real object of which, for fear of spies, was kept a profound secret\nfrom the rest of the army. When all was ready, a report was\npromulgated, that the seven hundred were intended to form an ambuscade\nfor a division of the Sultan's army, which was stated to be approaching.\n\nEvery thing favoured the treacherous project of the Armenian captain,\nwho, on his solitary watchtower, received due intimation of the\napproach of the crusaders. The night was dark and stormy; not a star\nwas visible above, and the wind howled so furiously as to overpower all\nother sounds: the rain fell in torrents, and the watchers on the towers\nadjoining to that of Phirouz could not hear the tramp of the armed\nknights for the wind, nor see them for the obscurity of the night and\nthe dismalness of the weather. When within shot of the walls, Bohemund\nsent forward an interpreter to confer with the Armenian. The latter\nurged them to make haste, and seize the favourable interval, as armed\nmen, with lighted torches, patrolled the battlements every half hour,\nand at that instant they had just passed.  The chiefs were instantly at\nthe foot of the wall: Phirouz let down a rope; Bohemund attached it to\nthe end of a ladder of hides, which was then raised by the Armenian,\nand held while the knights mounted. A momentary fear came over the\nspirits of the adventurers, and every one hesitated. At last Bohemund,\n[Vide William of Tyre.] encouraged by Phirouz from above, ascended a\nfew steps on the ladder, and was followed by Godfrey, Count Robert of\nFlanders, and a number of other knights. As they advanced, others\npressed forward, until their weight became too great for the ladder,\nwhich, breaking, precipitated about a dozen of them to the ground,\nwhere they fell one upon the other, making a great clatter with their\nheavy coats of mail. For a moment they thought that all was lost; but\nthe wind made so loud a howling as it swept in fierce gusts through the\nmountain gorges--and the Orontes, swollen by the rain, rushed so\nnoisily along--that the guards heard nothing. The ladder was easily\nrepaired, and the knights ascended two at a time, and reached the\nplatform in safety, When sixty of them had thus ascended, the torch of\nthe coming patrol was seen to gleam at the angle of the wall. Hiding\nthemselves behind a buttress, they awaited his coming in breathless\nsilence. As soon as he arrived at arm's length, he was suddenly seized,\nand, before he could open his lips to raise an alarm, the silence of\ndeath closed them up for ever.  They next descended rapidly the spiral\nstaircase of the tower, and, opening the portal, admitted the whole of\ntheir companions. Raymond of Toulouse, who, cognizant of the whole\nplan, had been left behind with the main body of the army, heard at\nthis instant the signal horn, which announced that an entry had been\neffected, and, leading on his legions, the town was attacked from\nwithin and without.\n\nImagination cannot conceive a scene more dreadful than that presented\nby the devoted city of Antioch on that night of horror. The crusaders\nfought with a blind fury, which fanaticism and suffering alike incited.\nMen, women, and children were indiscriminately slaughtered till the\nstreets ran in gore. Darkness increased the destruction, for when\nmorning dawned the crusaders found themselves with their swords at the\nbreasts of their fellow-soldiers, whom they had mistaken for foes. The\nTurkish commander fled, first to the citadel, and that becoming\ninsecure, to the mountains, whither he was pursued and slain, his grey\nhead brought back to Antioch as a trophy.  At daylight the massacre\nceased, and the crusaders gave themselves up to plunder. They found\ngold, and jewels, and silks, and velvets in abundance, but, of\nprovisions, which were of more importance to them, they found but\nlittle of any kind. Corn was excessively scarce, and they discovered to\ntheir sorrow that in this respect the besieged had been but little\nbetter off than the besiegers.\n\nBefore they had time to instal themselves in their new position, and\ntake the necessary measures for procuring a supply, the city was\ninvested by the Turks. The Sultan of Persia had raised an immense army,\nwhich he intrusted to the command of Kerbogha, the Emir of Mosul, with\ninstructions to sweep the Christian locusts from the face of the land.\nThe Emir effected junction with Kilij Aslaun, and the two armies\nsurrounded the city. Discouragement took complete possession of the\nChristian host, and numbers of them contrived to elude the vigilance of\nthe besiegers, and escape to Count Stephen of Blots at Alexandretta, to\nwhom they related the most exaggerated tales of the misery they had\nendured, and the utter hopelessness of continuing the war. Stephen\nforthwith broke up his camp and retreated towards Constantinople. On\nhis way he was met by the Emperor Alexius, at the head of a\nconsiderable force, hastening to take possession of the conquests made\nby the Christians in Asia. As soon as he heard of their woeful plight,\nhe turned back, and proceeded with the Count of Blots to\nConstantinople, leaving the remnant of the crusaders to shift for\nthemselves.\n\nThe news of this defection increased the discouragement at Antioch. All\nthe useless horses of the army had been slain and eaten, and dogs,\ncats, and rats were sold at enormous prices. Even vermin were becoming\nscarce. With increasing famine came a pestilence, so that in a short\ntime but sixty thousand remained of the three hundred thousand that had\noriginally invested Antioch. But this bitter extremity, while it\nannihilated the energy of the host, only served to knit the leaders\nmore firmly together; and Bohemund, Godfrey, and Tancred swore never to\ndesert the cause as long as life lasted. The former strove in vain to\nreanimate the courage of his followers. They were weary and sick at\nheart, and his menaces and promises were alike thrown away. Some of\nthem had shut themselves up in the houses, and refused to come forth.\nBohemund, to drive them to their duty, set fire to the whole quarter,\nand many of them perished in the flames, while the rest of the army\nlooked on with the utmost indifference. Bohemund, animated himself by a\nworldly spirit, did not know the true character of the crusaders, nor\nunderstand the religious madness which had brought them in such shoals\nfrom Europe. A priest, more clear-sighted, devised a scheme which\nrestored all their confidence, and inspired them with a courage so\nwonderful as to make the poor sixty thousand emaciated, sick, and\nstarving zealots, put to flight the well-fed and six times as numerous\nlegions of the Sultan of Persia.\n\nThis priest, a native of Provence, was named Peter Barthelemy, and\nwhether he were a knave or an enthusiast, or both; a principal, or a\ntool in the hands of others, will ever remain a matter of doubt.\nCertain it is, however, that he was the means of raising the siege of\nAntioch, and causing the eventual triumph of the armies of the Cross.\nWhen the strength of the crusaders was completely broken by their\nsufferings, and hope had fled from every bosom, Peter came to Count\nRaymond of Toulouse, and demanded an interview on matters of serious\nmoment. He was immediately admitted. He said that, some weeks\npreviously, at the time the Christians were besieging Antioch, he was\nreposing alone in his tent, when he was startled by the shock of the\nearthquake, which had so alarmed the whole host. Through violent terror\nof the shock he could only ejaculate, God help me! when turning round\nhe saw two men standing before him, whom he at once recognized by the\nhalo of glory around them as beings of another world. One of them\nappeared to be an aged man, with reddish hair sprinkled with grey,\nblack eyes, and a long flowing grey beard. The other was younger,\nlarger, and handsomer, and had something more divine in his aspect. The\nelderly man alone spoke, and informed him that he was the Holy Apostle\nSt. Andrew, and desired him to seek out the Count Raymond, the Bishop\nof Puy, and Raymond of Altopulto, and ask them why the Bishop did not\nexhort the people, and sign them with the cross which he bore. The\nApostle then took him, naked in his shirt as he was, and transported\nhim through the air into the heart of the city of Antioch, where he led\nhim into the church of St. Peter, at that time a Saracen mosque. The\nApostle made him stop by the pillar close to the steps by which they\nascend on the south side to the altar, where hung two lamps, which gave\nout a light brighter than that of the noonday sun; the younger man,\nwhom he did not at that time know, standing afar off, near the steps of\nthe altar. The Apostle then descended into the ground and brought up a\nlance, which he gave into his hand, telling him that it was the very\nlance that had opened the side whence had flowed the salvation of the\nworld. With tears of joy he held the holy lance, and implored the\nApostle to allow him to take it away and deliver it into the hands of\nCount Raymond. The Apostle refused, and buried the lance again in the\nground, commanding him, when the city was won from the infidels, to go\nwith twelve chosen men, and dig it up again in the same place. The\nApostle then transported him back to his tent, and the two vanished\nfrom his sight. He had neglected, he said, to deliver this message,\nafraid that his wonderful tale would not obtain credence from men of\nsuch high rank. After some days he again saw the holy vision, as he was\ngone out of the camp to look for food.  This time the divine eyes of\nthe younger looked reproachfully upon him. He implored the Apostle to\nchoose some one else more fitted for the mission, but the Apostle\nrefused, and smote him with a disorder of the eyes, as a punishment for\nhis disobedience. With an obstinacy unaccountable even to himself, he\nhad still delayed. A third time the Apostle and his companion had\nappeared to him, as he was in a tent with his master William at St.\nSimeon. On that occasion St. Andrew told him to bear his command to the\nCount of Toulouse not to bathe in the waters of the Jordan when he came\nto it, but to cross over in a boat, clad in a shirt and breeches of\nlinen, which he should sprinkle with the sacred waters of the river.\nThese clothes he was afterwards to preserve along with the holy lance.\nHis master William, although he could not see the saint, distinctly\nheard the voice giving orders to that effect. Again he neglected to\nexecute the commission, and again the saints appeared to him, when he\nwas at the port of Mamistra, about to sail for Cyprus, and St. Andrew\nthreatened him with eternal perdition if he refused longer. Upon this\nhe made up his mind to divulge all that had been revealed to him.\n\nThe Count of Toulouse, who, in all probability, concocted this precious\ntale with the priest, appeared struck with the recital, and sent\nimmediately for the Bishop of Puy and Raymond of Altapulto. The Bishop\nat once expressed his disbelief of the whole story, and refused to have\nanything to do in the matter. The Count of Toulouse, on the contrary,\nsaw abundant motives, if not for believing, for pretending to believe;\nand, in the end, he so impressed upon the mind of the Bishop the\nadvantage that might be derived from it, in working up the popular mind\nto its former excitement, that the latter reluctantly agreed to make\nsearch in due form for the holy weapon. The day after the morrow was\nfixed upon for the ceremony, and, in the mean time, Peter was consigned\nto the care of Raymond, the Count's chaplain, in order that no profane\ncuriosity might have an opportunity of cross-examining him, and putting\nhim to a nonplus.\n\nTwelve devout men were forthwith chosen for the undertaking, among whom\nwere the Count of Toulouse and his chaplain. They began digging at\nsunrise, and continued unwearied till near sunset, without finding the\nlance;--they might have dug till this day with no better success, had\nnot Peter himself sprung into the pit, praying to God to bring the\nlance to light, for the strengthening and victory of his people. Those\nwho hide know where to find; and so it was with Peter, for both he and\nthe lance found their way into the hole at the same time. On a sudden,\nhe and Raymond, the chaplain, beheld its point in the earth, and\nRaymond, drawing it forth, kissed it with tears of joy, in sight of the\nmultitude which had assembled in the church. It was immediately\nenveloped in a rich purple cloth, already prepared to receive it, and\nexhibited in this state to the faithful, who made the building resound\nwith their shouts of gladness.\n\nPeter had another vision the same night, and became from that day forth\n\"dreamer of dreams,\" in general, to the army. He stated on the\nfollowing day, that the Apostle Andrew and \"the youth with the divine\naspect\" appeared to him again, and directed that the Count of Toulouse,\nas a reward for his persevering piety, should carry the Holy Lance at\nthe head of the army, and that the day on which it was found should be\nobserved as a solemn festival throughout Christendom. St.  Andrew\nshowed him, at the same time, the holes in the feet and hands of his\nbenign companion; and he became convinced that he stood in the awful\npresence of THE REDEEMER.\n\nPeter gained so much credit by his visions that dreaming became\ncontagious. Other monks beside himself were visited by the saints, who\npromised victory to the host if it would valiantly hold out to the\nlast, and crowns of eternal glory to those who fell in the fight. Two\ndeserters, wearied of the fatigues and privations of the war, who had\nstealthily left the camp, suddenly returned, and seeking Bohemund, told\nhim that they had been met by two apparitions, who, with great anger,\nhad commanded them to return. The one of them said, that he recognized\nhis brother, who had been killed in battle some months before, and that\nhe had a halo of glory around his head. The other, still more hardy,\nasserted that the apparition which had spoken to him was the Saviour\nhimself, who had promised eternal happiness as his reward if he\nreturned to his duty, but the pains of eternal fire if he rejected the\ncross. No one thought of disbelieving these men. The courage of the\narmy immediately revived; despondency gave way to hope; every arm grew\nstrong again, and the pangs of hunger were for a time disregarded. The\nenthusiasm which had led them from Europe burned forth once more as\nbrightly as ever, and they demanded, with loud cries, to be led against\nthe enemy. The leaders were not unwilling. In a battle lay their only\nchance of salvation; and although Godfrey, Bohemund, and Tancred\nreceived the story of the lance with much suspicion, they were too wise\nto throw discredit upon an imposture which bade fair to open the gates\nof victory.\n\nPeter the Hermit was previously sent to the camp of Kerbogha to propose\nthat the quarrel between the two religions should be decided by a\nchosen number of the bravest soldiers of each army. Kerbogha turned\nfrom him with a look of contempt, and said he could agree to no\nproposals from a set of such miserable beggars and robbers. With this\nuncourteous answer Peter returned to Antioch. Preparations were\nimmediately commenced for an attack upon the enemy: the latter\ncontinued to be perfectly well informed of all the proceedings of the\nChristian camp. The citadel of Antioch, which remained in their\npossession, overlooked the town, and the commander of the fortress\ncould distinctly see all that was passing within. On the morning of the\n28th of June 1098 a black flag, hoisted from its highest tower,\nannounced to the besieging army that the Christians were about to sally\nforth.\n\nThe Moslem leaders knew the sad inroads that famine and disease had\nmade upon the numbers of the foe: they knew that not above two hundred\nof the knights had horses to ride upon, and that the foot soldiers were\nsick and emaciated; but they did not know the almost incredible valour\nwhich superstition had infused into their hearts.  The story of the\nlance they treated with the most supreme contempt, and, secure of an\neasy victory, they gave themselves no trouble in preparing for the\nonslaught. It is related that Kerbogha was playing a game at chess,\nwhen the black flag on the citadel gave warning of the enemy's\napproach, and that, with true oriental coolness, he insisted upon\nfinishing the game ere he bestowed any of his attention upon a foe so\nunworthy. The defeat of his advanced post of two thousand men aroused\nhim from his apathy.\n\nThe crusaders, after this first victory, advanced joyfully towards the\nmountains, hoping to draw the Turks to a place where their cavalry\nwould be unable to manoeuvre. Their spirits were light and their\ncourage high, as led on by the Duke of Normandy, Count Robert of\nFlanders, and Hugh of Vermandois, they came within sight of the\nsplendid camp of the enemy. Godfrey of Bouillon and Adhemar, Bishop of\nPuy, followed immediately after these leaders, the latter clad in\ncomplete armour, and bearing the Holy Lance within sight of the whole\narmy: Bohemund and Tancred brought up the rear.\n\nKerbogha, aware at last that his enemy was not so despicable, took\nvigorous measures to remedy his mistake, and, preparing himself to meet\nthe Christians in front, he despatched the Sultan Soliman, of Roum, to\nattack them in the rear. To conceal this movement, he set fire to the\ndried weeds and grass with which the ground was covered, and Soliman,\ntaking a wide circuit with his cavalry, succeeded, under cover of the\nsmoke, in making good his position in the rear. The battle raged\nfuriously in front; the arrows of the Turks fell thick as hail, and\ntheir well-trained squadrons trod the crusaders under their hoofs like\nstubble. Still the affray was doubtful; for the Christians had the\nadvantage of the ground, and were rapidly gaining upon the enemy, when\nthe overwhelming forces of Soliman arrived in the rear.  Godfrey and\nTancred flew to the rescue of Bohemund, spreading dismay in the Turkish\nranks by their fierce impetuosity. The Bishop of Puy was left almost\nalone with the Provencals to oppose the legions commanded by Kerbogha\nin person; but the presence of the Holy Lance made a hero of the\nmeanest soldier in his train. Still, however, the numbers of the enemy\nseemed interminable. The Christians, attacked on every side, began at\nlast to give way, and the Turks made sure of victory.\n\nAt this moment a cry was raised in the Christian host that the saints\nwere fighting on their side. The battle-field was clear of the smoke\nfrom the burning weeds, which had curled away, and hung in white clouds\nof fantastic shape on the brow of the distant mountains. Some\nimaginative zealot, seeing this dimly through the dust of the battle,\ncalled out to his fellows, to look at the army of saints, clothed in\nwhite, and riding upon white horses, that were pouring over the hills\nto the rescue. All eyes were immediately turned to the distant smoke;\nfaith was in every heart; and the old battle-cry, God wills it! God\nwills it! resounded through the field, as every soldier, believing that\nGod was visibly sending His armies to his aid, fought with an energy\nunfelt before. A panic seized the Persian and Turkish hosts, and they\ngave way in all directions. In vain Kerbogha tried to rally them. Fear\nis more contagious than enthusiasm, and they fled over the mountains\nlike deer pursued by the hounds. The two leaders, seeing the\nuselessness of further efforts, fled with the rest; and that immense\narmy was scattered over Palestine, leaving nearly seventy thousand of\nits dead upon the field of battle.\n\nTheir magnificent camp fell into the hands of the enemy, with its rich\nstores of corn, and its droves of sheep and oxen. Jewels, gold, and\nrich velvets in abundance were distributed among the army. Tancred\nfollowed the fugitives over the hills, and reaped as much plunder as\nthose who had remained in the camp. The way, as they fled, was covered\nwith valuables, and horses of the finest breed of Arabia became so\nplentiful, that every knight of the Christians was provided with a\nsteed. The crusaders, in this battle, acknowledge to have lost nearly\nten thousand men.\n\nTheir return to Antioch was one of joy indeed: the citadel was\nsurrendered at once, and many of the Turkish garrison embraced the\nChristian faith, and the rest were suffered to depart. A solemn\nthanksgiving was offered up by the Bishop of Puy, in which the whole\narmy joined, and the Holy Lance was visited by every soldier.\n\nThe enthusiasm lasted for some days, and the army loudly demanded to be\nled forward to Jerusalem, the grand goal of all their wishes: but none\nof their leaders was anxious to move;--the more prudent among them,\nsuch as Godfrey and Tancred, for reasons of expediency; and the more\nambitious, such as the Count of Toulouse and Bohemund, for reasons of\nself-interest. Violent dissensions sprang up again between all the\nchiefs. Raymond of Toulouse, who was left at Antioch to guard the town,\nhad summoned the citadel to surrender, as soon as he saw that there was\nno fear of any attack upon the part of the Persians; and the other\nchiefs found, upon their return, his banner waving on its walls. This\nhad given great offence to Bohemund, who had stipulated the\nprincipality of Antioch as his reward for winning the town in the first\ninstance. Godfrey and Tancred supported his claim, and, after a great\ndeal of bickering, the flag of Raymond was lowered from the tower, and\nthat of Bohemund hoisted in its stead, who assumed from that time the\ntitle of Prince of Antioch. Raymond, however, persisted in retaining\npossession of one of the city gates and its adjacent towers, which he\nheld for several months, to the great annoyance of Bohemund and the\nscandal of the army. The Count became in consequence extremely\nunpopular, although his ambition was not a whit more unreasonable than\nthat of Bohemund himself, nor of Baldwin, who had taken up his quarters\nat Edessa, where he exercised the functions of a petty sovereign.\n\nThe fate of Peter Barthelemy deserves to be recorded. Honours and\nconsideration had come thick upon him after the affair of the lance,\nand he consequently felt bound in conscience to continue the dreams\nwhich had made him a personage of so much importance. The mischief of\nit was, that like many other liars he had a very bad memory, and he\ncontrived to make his dreams contradict each other in the most palpable\nmanner. St. John one night appeared to him, and told one tale, while, a\nweek after, St. Paul told a totally different story, and held out hopes\nquite incompatible with those of his apostolic brother. The credulity\nof that age had a wide maw, and Peter's visions must have been absurd\nand outrageous indeed, when the very men who had believed in the lance\nrefused to swallow any more of his wonders.  Bohemund at last, for the\npurpose of annoying the Count of Toulouse, challenged poor Peter to\nprove the truth of his story of the lance by the fiery ordeal. Peter\ncould not refuse a trial so common in that age, and being besides\nencouraged by the Count and his chaplain, Raymond, an early day was\nappointed for the ceremony. The previous night was spent in prayer and\nfasting, according to custom, and Peter came forth in the morning\nbearing the lance in his hand, and walked boldly up to the fire. The\nwhole army gathered round, impatient for the result, many thousands\nstill believing that the lance was genuine and Peter a holy man.\nPrayers having been said by Raymond d'Agilles, Peter walked into the\nflames, and had got nearly through, when pain caused him to lose his\npresence of mind: the heat too affected his eyes, and, in his anguish,\nhe turned round unwittingly, and passed through the fire again, instead\nof stepping out of it, as he should have done. The result was, that he\nwas burned so severely, that he never recovered, and, after lingering\nfor some days, he expired in great agony.\n\nMost of the soldiers were suffering either from wounds, disease, or\nweariness, and it was resolved by Godfrey,--the tacitly acknowledged\nchief of the enterprize,--that the army should have time to refresh\nitself ere they advanced upon Jerusalem. It was now July, and he\nproposed that they should pass the hot months of August and September\nwithin the walls of Antioch, and march forward in October with renewed\nvigour, and numbers increased by fresh arrivals from Europe. This\nadvice was finally adopted, although the enthusiasts of the army\ncontinued to murmur at the delay. In the mean time the Count of\nVermandois was sent upon an embassy to the Emperor Alexius at\nConstantinople, to reproach him for his base desertion of the cause,\nand urge him to send the reinforcements he had promised. The Count\nfaithfully executed his mission, (of which, by the way, Alexius took no\nnotice whatever,) and remained for some time at Constantinople, till\nhis zeal, never very violent, totally evaporated. He then returned to\nFrance, sick of the Crusade, and determined to intermeddle with it no\nmore.\n\nThe chiefs, though they had determined to stay at Antioch for two\nmonths, could not remain quiet for so long a time. They would, in all\nprobability, have fallen upon each other, had there been no Turks in\nPalestine upon whom they might vent their impetuosity. Godfrey\nproceeded to Edessa, to aid his brother Baldwin in expelling the\nSaracens from his principality, and the other leaders carried on\nseparate hostilities against them as caprice or ambition dictated. At\nlength the impatience of the army to be led against Jerusalem became so\ngreat that the chiefs could no longer delay, and Raymond, Tancred, and\nRobert of Normandy marched forward with their divisions, and laid siege\nto the small but strong town of Marah. With their usual improvidence,\nthey had not food enough to last a beleaguering army for a week. They\nsuffered great privations in consequence, till Bohemund came to their\naid and took the town by storm. In connexion with this siege, the\nchronicler, Raymond d'Agilles, (the same Raymond, the chaplain, who\nfigured in the affair of the Holy Lance,) relates a legend, in the\ntruth of which he devoutly believed, and upon which Tasso has founded\none of the most beautiful passages of his poem. It is worth preserving,\nas showing the spirit of the age and the source of the extraordinary\ncourage manifested by the crusaders on occasions of extreme difficulty.\n\"One day,\" says Raymond, \"Anselme de Ribeaumont beheld young Engelram,\nthe son of the Count de St. Paul, who had been killed at Marsh, enter\nhis tent. 'How is it,' said Anselme to him, 'that you, whom I saw lying\ndead on the field of battle, are full of life?'--'You must know,'\nreplied Engelram, 'that those who fight for Jesus Christ never\ndie.'--'But whence,' resumed Anselme, 'comes that strange brightness\nthat surrounds you?' Upon this Engelram pointed to the sky, where\nAnselme saw a palace of diamond and crystal.  'It is thence,' said he,\n'that I derive the beauty which surprises you. My dwelling is there; a\nstill finer one is prepared for you, and you shall soon come to inhabit\nit. Farewell! we shall meet again to-morrow.' With these words Engelram\nreturned to heaven. Anselme, struck by the vision, sent the next\nmorning for the priests, received the sacrament; and although full of\nhealth, took a last farewell of all his friends, telling them that he\nwas about to leave this world. A few hours afterwards, the enemy having\nmade a sortie, Anselme went out against them sword in hand, and was\nstruck on the forehead by a stone from a Turkish sling, which sent him\nto heaven, to the beautiful palace that was prepared for him.\"\n\nNew disputes arose between the Prince of Antioch and the Count of\nToulouse with regard to the capture of this town, which were with the\nutmost difficulty appeased by the other chiefs. Delays also took place\nin the progress of the army, especially before Arches, and the soldiery\nwere so exasperated that they were on the point of choosing new leaders\nto conduct them to Jerusalem. Godfrey, upon this, set fire to his camp\nat Arches, and marched forward. He was immediately joined by hundreds\nof the Provencals of the Count of Toulouse. The latter, seeing the turn\naffairs were taking, hastened after them, and the whole host proceeded\ntowards the holy city, so long desired amid sorrow, and suffering, and\ndanger. At Emmaus they were met by a deputation from the Christians of\nBethlehem, praying for immediate aid against the oppression of the\ninfidels. The very name of Bethlehem, the birthplace of the Saviour,\nwas music to their ears, and many of them wept with joy to think they\nwere approaching a spot so hallowed.  Albert of Aix informs us that\ntheir hearts were so touched that sleep was banished from the camp, and\nthat, instead of waiting till the morning's dawn to recommence their\nmarch, they set out shortly after midnight, full of hope and\nenthusiasm. For upwards of four hours the mail-clad legions tramped\nsteadfastly forward in the dark, and when the sun arose in unclouded\nsplendour, the towers and pinnacles of Jerusalem gleamed upon their\nsight. All the tender feelings of their nature were touched; no longer\nbrutal fanatics, but meek and humble pilgrims, they knelt down upon the\nsod, and with tears in their eyes, exclaimed to one another,\n\"Jerusalem! Jerusalem!\" Some of them kissed the holy ground, others\nstretched themselves at full length upon it, in order that their bodies\nmight come in contact with the greatest possible extent of it, and\nothers prayed aloud. The women and children who had followed the camp\nfrom Europe, and shared in all its dangers, fatigues, and privations,\nwere more boisterous in their joy; the former from long-nourished\nenthusiasm, and the latter from mere imitation, [Guibert de Nogent\nrelates a curious instance of the imitativeness of these juvenile\ncrusaders. He says that, during the siege of Antioch, the Christian and\nSaracen boys used to issue forth every evening from the town and camp\nin great numbers under the command of captains chosen from among\nthemselves. Armed with sticks instead of swords, and stones instead of\narrows, they ranged themselves in battle order, and shouting each the\nwar-cry of their country, fought with the utmost desperation. Some of\nthem lost their eyes, and many became cripples for life from the\ninjuries they received on these occasions.] and prayed, and wept, and\nlaughed till they almost put the more sober to the blush.\n\nThe first ebullition of their gladness having subsided, the army\nmarched forward, and invested the city on all sides. The assault was\nalmost immediately begun; but after the Christians had lost some of\ntheir bravest knights, that mode of attack was abandoned, and the army\ncommenced its preparations for a regular siege. Mangonels, moveable\ntowers, and battering rams, together with a machine called a sow, made\nof wood, and covered with raw hides, inside of which miners worked to\nundermine the walls, were forthwith constructed; and to restore the\ncourage and discipline of the army, which had suffered from the\nunworthy dissensions of the chiefs, the latter held out the hand of\nfriendship to each other, and Tancred and the Count of Toulouse\nembraced in sight of the whole camp. The clergy aided the cause with\ntheir powerful voice, and preached union and goodwill to the highest\nand the lowest. A solemn procession was also ordered round the city, in\nwhich the entire army joined, prayers being offered up at every spot\nwhich gospel records had taught them to consider as peculiarly sacred.\n\nThe Saracens upon the ramparts beheld all these manifestations without\nalarm. To incense the Christians, whom they despised, they constructed\nrude crosses, and fixed them upon the walls, and spat upon and pelted\nthem with dirt and stones. This insult to the symbol of their faith\nraised the wrath of the crusaders to that height that bravery became\nferocity and enthusiasm madness. When all the engines of war were\ncompleted the attack was recommenced, and every soldier of the\nChristian army fought with a vigour which the sense of private wrong\ninvariably inspires. Every man had been personally outraged, and the\nknights worked at the battering-rams with as much readiness as the\nmeanest soldiers. The Saracen arrows and balls of fire fell thick and\nfast among them, but the tremendous rams still heaved against the\nwalls, while the best marksmen of the host were busily employed in the\nseveral floors of the moveable towers in dealing death among the Turks\nupon the battlements. Godfrey, Raymond, Tancred, and Robert of\nNormandy, each upon his tower, fought for hours with unwearied energy,\noften repulsed, but ever ready to renew the struggle. The Turks, no\nlonger despising the enemy, defended themselves with the utmost skill\nand bravery till darkness brought a cessation of hostilities. Short was\nthe sleep that night in the Christian camp. The priests offered up\nsolemn prayers in the midst of the attentive soldiery for the triumph\nof the Cross in this last great struggle, and as soon as morning dawned\nevery one was in readiness for the affray. The women and children lent\ntheir aid, the latter running unconcerned to and fro while the arrows\nfell fast around them, bearing water to the thirsty combatants. The\nsaints were believed to be aiding their efforts, and the army,\nimpressed with this idea, surmounted difficulties under which a force\nthrice as numerous, but without their faith, would have quailed and\nbeen defeated. Raymond of Toulouse at last forced his way into the city\nby escalade, while at the very same moment Tancred and Robert of\nNormandy succeeded in bursting open one of the gates. The Turks flew to\nrepair the mischief, and Godfrey of Bouillon, seeing the battlements\ncomparatively deserted, let down the drawbridge of his moveable tower,\nand sprang forward, followed by all the knights of his train. In an\ninstant after, the banner of the Cross floated upon the walls of\nJerusalem. The crusaders, raising once more their redoubtable war-cry,\nrushed on from every side, and the city was taken. The battle raged in\nthe streets for several hours, and the Christians, remembering their\ninsulted faith, gave no quarter to young or old, male or female, sick\nor strong. Not one of the leaders thought himself at liberty to issue\norders for staying the carnage, and if he had, he would not have been\nobeyed. The Saracens fled in great numbers to the mosque of Soliman,\nbut they had not time to fortify themselves within it ere the\nChristians were upon them. Ten thousand persons are said to have\nperished in that building alone.\n\nPeter the Hermit, who had remained so long under the veil of neglect,\nwas repaid that day for all his zeal and all his sufferings.  As soon\nas the battle was over, the Christians of Jerusalem issued forth from\ntheir hiding-places to welcome their deliverers. They instantly\nrecognized the Hermit as the pilgrim who, years before, had spoken to\nthem so eloquently of the wrongs and insults they had endured, and\npromised to stir up the princes and people of Europe in their behalf.\nThey clung to the skirts of his garments in the fervour of their\ngratitude, and vowed to remember him for ever in their prayers. Many of\nthem shed tears about his neck, and attributed the deliverance of\nJerusalem solely to his courage and perseverance. Peter afterwards held\nsome ecclesiastical office in the Holy City, but what it was, or what\nwas his ultimate fate, history has forgotten to inform us. Some say\nthat he returned to France and founded a monastery, but the story does\nnot rest upon sufficient authority.\n\nThe grand object for which the popular swarms of Europe had forsaken\ntheir homes was now accomplished. The Moslem mosques of Jerusalem were\nconverted into churches for a purer faith, and the mount of Calvary and\nthe sepulchre of Christ were profaned no longer by the presence or the\npower of the infidel. Popular frenzy had fulfilled its mission, and, as\na natural consequence, it began to subside from that time forth. The\nnews of the capture of Jerusalem brought numbers of pilgrims from\nEurope, and, among others, Stephen Count of Chartres and Hugh of\nVermandois, to atone for their desertion; but nothing like the former\nenthusiasm existed among the nations.\n\nThus then ends the history of the first Crusade. For the better\nunderstanding of the second, it will be necessary to describe the\ninterval between them, and to enter into a slight sketch of the history\nof Jerusalem under its Latin kings, the long and fruitless wars they\ncontinued to wage with the unvanquished Saracens, and the poor and\nmiserable results which sprang from so vast an expenditure of zeal, and\nso deplorable a waste of human life.\n\nThe necessity of having some recognized chief was soon felt by the\ncrusaders, and Godfrey de Bouillon, less ambitious than Bohemund, or\nRaymond of Toulouse, gave his cold consent to wield a sceptre which the\nlatter chiefs would have clutched with eagerness. He was hardly\ninvested with the royal mantle before the Saracens menaced his capital.\nWith much vigour and judgment he exerted himself to follow up the\nadvantages he had gained, and marching out to meet the enemy before\nthey had time to besiege him in Jerusalem, he gave them battle at\nAscalon, and defeated them with great loss. He did not, however, live\nlong to enjoy his new dignity, being seized with a fatal illness when\nhe had only reigned nine months. To him succeeded his brother, Baldwin\nof Edessa. The latter monarch did much to improve the condition of\nJerusalem and to extend its territory, but was not able to make a firm\nfooting for his successors. For fifty years, in which the history of\nJerusalem is full of interest to the historical student, the crusaders\nwere exposed to fierce and constant hostilities, often gaining battles\nand territory, and as often losing them, but becoming every day weaker\nand more divided, while the Saracens became stronger and more united to\nharass and root them out.  The battles of this period were of the most\nchivalrous character, and deeds of heroism were done by the handful of\nbrave knights that remained in Syria, which have hardly their parallel\nin the annals of war. In the course of time, however, the Christians\ncould not avoid feeling some respect for the courage, and admiration\nfor the polished manners and advanced civilization of the Saracens, so\nmuch superior to the rudeness and semi-barbarism of Europe at that day.\nDifference of faith did not prevent them from forming alliances with\nthe dark-eyed maidens of the East. One of the first to set the example\nof taking a Paynim spouse was King Baldwin himself, and these\nconnexions in time became, not only frequent, but almost universal,\namong such of the knights as had resolved to spend their lives in\nPalestine. These Eastern ladies were obliged, however, to submit to the\nceremony of baptism before they could be received to the arms of a\nChristian lord.  These, and their offspring, naturally looked upon the\nSaracens with less hatred than did the zealots who conquered Jerusalem,\nand who thought it a sin deserving the wrath of God to spare an\nunbeliever. We find, in consequence, that the most obstinate battles\nwaged during the reigns of the later Kings of Jerusalem were fought by\nthe new and raw levies who from time to time arrived from Europe, lured\nby the hope of glory, or spurred by fanaticism. The latter broke\nwithout scruple the truces established between the original settlers\nand the Saracens, and drew down severe retaliation upon many thousands\nof their brethren in the faith, whose prudence was stronger than their\nzeal, and whose chief desire was to live in peace.\n\nThings remained in this unsatisfactory state till the close of the year\n1145, when Edessa, the strong frontier town of the Christian kingdom,\nfell into the bauds of the Saracens. The latter were commanded by\nZenghi, a powerful and enterprising monarch, and, after his death, by\nhis son Nourheddin, as powerful and enterprising as his father. An\nunsuccessful attempt was made by the Count of Edessa to regain the\nfortress, but Nourheddin, with a large army, came to the rescue, and\nafter defeating the Count with great slaughter, marched into Edessa and\ncaused its fortifications to be rased to the ground, that the town\nmight never more be a bulwark of defence for the kingdom of Jerusalem.\nThe road to the capital was now open, and consternation seized the\nhearts of the Christians. Nourheddin, it was known, was only waiting\nfor a favourable opportunity to advance upon Jerusalem, and the armies\nof the Cross, weakened and divided, were not in a condition to make any\navailable resistance. The clergy were filled with grief and alarm, and\nwrote repeated letters to the Pope and the sovereigns of Europe, urging\nthe expediency of a new Crusade for the relief of Jerusalem. By far the\ngreater number of the priests of Palestine were natives of France, and\nthese naturally looked first to their own country. The solicitations\nthey sent to Louis the Seventh were urgent and oft repeated, and the\nchivalry of France began to talk once more of arming in the defence of\nthe birthplace of Jesus. The kings of Europe, whose interest it had not\nbeen to take any part in the first Crusade, began to bestir themselves\nin this; and a man appeared, eloquent as Peter the Hermit, to arouse\nthe people as he had done.\n\nWe find, however, that the enthusiasm of the second did not equal that\nof the first Crusade: in fact, the mania had reached its climax in the\ntime of Peter the Hermit, and decreased regularly from that period. The\nthird Crusade was less general than the second, and the fourth than the\nthird, and so on, until the public enthusiasm was quite extinct, and\nJerusalem returned at last to the dominion of its old masters without a\nconvulsion in Christendom. Various reasons have been assigned for this;\nand one very generally put forward is, that Europe was wearied with\ncontinued struggles, and had become sick of \"precipitating itself upon\nAsia.\" M. Guizot, in his admirable lectures upon European civilization,\nsuccessfully combats this opinion, and offers one of his own, which is\nfar more satisfactory. He says, in his eighth lecture, \"It has been\noften repeated, that Europe was tired of continually invading Asia.\nThis expression appears to me exceedingly incorrect. It is not possible\nthat human beings can be wearied with what they have not done--that the\nlabours of their forefathers can fatigue them. Weariness is a personal,\nnot an inherited feeling. The men of the thirteenth century were not\nfatigued by the Crusades of the twelfth. They were influenced by\nanother cause. A great change had taken place in ideas, sentiments, and\nsocial conditions. The same desires and the same wants were no longer\nfelt. The same things were no longer believed. The people refused to\nbelieve what their ancestors were persuaded of.\"\n\nThis is, in fact, the secret of the change; and its truth becomes more\napparent as we advance in the history of the Crusades, and compare the\nstate of the public mind at the different periods when Godfrey of\nBouillon, Louis VII. and Richard I. were chiefs and leaders of the\nmovement. The Crusades themselves were the means of operating a great\nchange in national ideas, and advancing the civilization of Europe. In\nthe time of Godfrey, the nobles were all-powerful and all-oppressive,\nand equally obnoxious to kings and people. During their absence along\nwith that portion of the community the deepest sunk in ignorance and\nsuperstition, both kings and people fortified themselves against the\nrenewal of aristocratic tyranny, and in proportion as they became free,\nbecame civilized. It was during this period that in France, the grand\ncentre of the crusading madness, the communes began to acquire\nstrength, and the monarch to possess a tangible and not a merely\ntheoretic authority. Order and comfort began to take root, and, when\nthe second Crusade was preached, men were in consequence much less\nwilling to abandon their homes than they had been during the first.\nSuch pilgrims as had returned from the Holy Land came back with minds\nmore liberal and expanded than when they set out. They had come in\ncontact with a people more civilized than themselves; they had seen\nsomething more of the world, and had lost some portion, however small,\nof the prejudice and bigotry of ignorance. The institution of chivalry\nhad also exercised its humanizing influence, and coming bright and\nfresh through the ordeal of the Crusades, had softened the character\nand improved the hearts of the aristocratic order. The Trouveres and\nTroubadours, singing of love and war in strains pleasing to every class\nof society, helped to root out the gloomy superstitions which, at the\nfirst Crusade, filled the minds of all those who were able to think.\nMen became in consequence less exclusively under the mental thraldom of\nthe priesthood, and lost much of the credulity which formerly\ndistinguished them.\n\nThe Crusades appear never to have excited so much attention in England\nas on the continent of Europe; not because the people were less\nfanatical than their neighbours, but because they were occupied in\nmatters of graver interest. The English were suffering too severely\nfrom the recent successful invasion of their soil, to have much\nsympathy to bestow upon the distresses of people so far away as the\nChristians of Palestine; and we find that they took no part in the\nfirst Crusade, and very little in the second. Even then those who\nengaged in it were chiefly Norman knights and their vassals, and not\nthe Saxon franklins and population, who no doubt thought, in their\nsorrow, as many wise men have thought since, that charity should begin\nat home.\n\nGermany was productive of more zeal in the cause, and her raw,\nuncivilized hordes continued to issue forth under the banners of the\nCross in numbers apparently undiminished, when the enthusiasm had long\nbeen on the wane in other countries. They were sunk at that time in a\ndeeper slough of barbarism than the livelier nations around them, and\ntook, in consequence, a longer period to free themselves from their\nprejudices. In fact, the second Crusade drew its chief supplies of men\nfrom that quarter, where alone the expedition can be said to have\nretained any portion of popularity.\n\nSuch was the state of the mind of Europe when Pope Eugenius, moved by\nthe reiterated entreaties of the Christians of Syria, commissioned St.\nBernard to preach a new crusade. St. Bernard was a man eminently\nqualified for the mission. He was endowed with an eloquence of the\nhighest order, could move an auditory to tears, or laughter, or fury,\nas it pleased him, and had led a life of such rigid and self-denying\nvirtue, that not even calumny could lift her finger and point it at\nhim. He had renounced high prospects in the church, and contented\nhimself with the simple abbacy of Clairvaux, in order that he might\nhave the leisure he desired, to raise his powerful voice against abuses\nwherever he found them. Vice met in him an austere and uncompromising\nreprover; no man was too high for his reproach, and none too low for\nhis sympathy. He was just as well suited for his age as Peter the\nHermit had been for the age preceding. He appealed more to the reason,\nhis predecessor to the passions; Peter the Hermit collected a mob,\nwhile St. Bernard collected an army. Both were endowed with equal zeal\nand perseverance, springing, in the one, from impulse, and in the other\nfrom conviction, and a desire to increase the influence of the church,\nthat great body of which he was a pillar and an ornament.\n\nOne of the first converts he made was in himself a host. Louis VII. was\nboth superstitious and tyrannical, and, in a fit of remorse for the\ninfamous slaughter he had authorised at the sacking of Vitry, he made a\nvow to undertake the journey to the Holy Land. [The sacking of Vitry\nreflects indelible disgrace upon Louis VII. His predecessors had been\nlong engaged in resistance to the outrageous powers assumed by the\nPopes, and Louis continued the same policy. The ecclesiastical chapter\nof Bourges, having elected an Archbishop without his consent, he\nproclaimed the election to be invalid, and took severe and prompt\nmeasures against the refractory clergy. Thibault, Count de Champagne,\ntook up arms in defence of the Papal authority, and intrenched himself\nin the town of Vitry. Louis was immediately in the field to chastise\nthe rebel, and he besieged the town with so much vigour, that the Count\nwas forced to surrender. Upwards of thirteen hundred of the\ninhabitants, fully one half of whom were women and children, took\nrefuge in the church; and, when the gates of the city were opened, and\nall resistance had ceased, Louis inhumanly gave orders to set fire to\nthe church, and a thousand persons perished in the flames.] He was in\nthis disposition when St. Bernard began to preach, and wanted but\nlittle persuasion to embark in the cause. His example had great\ninfluence upon the nobility, who, impoverished as many of them were by\nthe sacrifices made by their fathers in the holy wars, were anxious to\nrepair their ruined fortunes by conquests on a foreign shore. These\ntook the field with such vassals as they could command, and, in a very\nshort time, an army was raised amounting to two hundred thousand men.\nAt Vezelai the monarch received the cross from the hands of St.\nBernard, on a platform elevated in sight of all the people. Several\nnobles, three bishops, and his Queen, Eleanor of Aquitaine, were\npresent at this ceremony, and enrolled themselves under the banners of\nthe Cross, St. Bernard cutting up his red sacerdotal vestments, and\nmaking crosses of them, to be sewn on the shoulders of the people. An\nexhortation from the Pope was read to the multitude, granting remission\nof their sins to all who should join the Crusade, and directing that no\nman on that holy pilgrimage should encumber himself with heavy baggage\nand vain superfluities, and that the nobles should not travel with dogs\nor falcons, to lead them from the direct road, as had happened to so\nmany during the first Crusade.\n\nThe command of the army was offered to St. Bernard; but he wisely\nrefused to accept a station for which his habits had unqualified him.\nAfter consecrating Louis with great solemnity, at St. Denis, as chief\nof the expedition, he continued his course through the country,\nstirring up the people wherever he went. So high an opinion was\nentertained of his sanctity, that he was thought to be animated by the\nspirit of prophecy, and to be gifted with the power of working\nmiracles. Many women, excited by his eloquence, and encouraged by his\npredictions, forsook their husbands and children, and, clothing\nthemselves in male attire, hastened to the war. St. Bernard himself\nwrote a letter to the Pope, detailing his success, and stating, that in\nseveral towns there did not remain a single male inhabitant capable of\nbearing arms, and that everywhere castles and towns were to be seen\nfilled with women weeping for their absent husbands. But in spite of\nthis apparent enthusiasm, the numbers who really took up arms were\ninconsiderable, and not to be compared to the swarms of the first\nCrusade. A levy of no more than two hundred thousand men, which was the\nutmost the number amounted to, could hardly have depopulated a country\nlike France to the extent mentioned by St. Bernard. His description of\nthe state of the country appears, therefore, to have been much more\npoetical than true.\n\nSuger, the able minister of Louis, endeavoured to dissuade him from\nundertaking so long a journey at a time when his own dominions so much\nneeded his presence. But the king was pricked in his conscience by the\ncruelties of Vitry, and was anxious to make the only reparation which\nthe religion of that day considered sufficient. He was desirous\nmoreover of testifying to the world, that though he could brave the\ntemporal power of the church when it encroached upon his prerogatives,\nhe could render all due obedience to its spiritual decrees whenever it\nsuited his interest or tallied with his prejudices to so do. Suger,\ntherefore, implored in vain, and Louis received the pilgrim's staff at\nSt. Denis, and made all preparations for his pilgrimage.\n\nIn the mean time St. Bernard passed into Germany, where similar success\nattended his preaching. The renown of his sanctity had gone before him,\nand he found everywhere an admiring audience. Thousands of people, who\ncould not understand a word he said, flocked around him to catch a\nglimpse of so holy a man; and the knights enrolled themselves in great\nnumbers in the service of the Cross, each receiving from his hands the\nsymbol of the cause. But the people were not led away as in the days of\nGottschalk. We do not find that they rose in such tremendous masses of\ntwo and three hundred thousand men, swarming over the country like a\nplague of locusts. Still the enthusiasm was very great. The\nextraordinary tales that were told and believed of the miracles worked\nby the preacher brought the country people from far and near. Devils\nwere said to vanish at his sight, and diseases of the most malignant\nnature to be cured by his touch. [Philip, Archdeacon of the cathedral\nof Liege, wrote a detailed account of all the miracles performed by St.\nBernard during thirty-four days of his mission. They averaged about ten\nper day. The disciples of St. Bernard complained bitterly that the\npeople flocked around their master in such numbers, that they could not\nsee half the miracles he performed. But they willingly trusted the eyes\nof others, as far as faith in the miracles went, and seemed to vie with\neach other whose credulity should be greatest.] The Emperor Conrad\ncaught at last the contagion from his subjects, and declared his\nintention to follow the Cross.\n\nThe preparations were carried on so vigorously under the orders of\nConrad, that in less than three months he found himself at the head of\nan army containing at least one hundred and fifty thousand effective\nmen, besides a great number of women who followed their husbands and\nlovers to the war. One troop of them rode in the attitude and armour of\nmen: their chief wore gilt spurs and buskins, and thence acquired the\nepithet of the golden-footed lady. Conrad was ready to set out long\nbefore the French Monarch, and in the month of June 1147, he arrived\nbefore Constantinople, having passed through Hungary and Bulgaria\nwithout offence to the inhabitants.\n\nManuel Comnenus, the Greek Emperor, successor not only to the throne,\nbut to the policy of Alexius, looked with alarm upon the new levies who\nhad come to eat up his capital and imperil its tranquillity. Too weak\nto refuse them a passage through his dominions, too distrustful of them\nto make them welcome when they came, and too little assured of the\nadvantages likely to result to himself from the war, to feign a\nfriendship which he did not feel, the Greek Emperor gave offence at the\nvery outset. His subjects, in the pride of superior civilization,\ncalled the Germans barbarians, while the latter, who, if\nsemi-barbarous, were at least honest and straight-forward, retorted\nupon the Greeks by calling them double-faced knaves and traitors.\nDisputes continually arose between them, and Conrad, who had preserved\nso much good order among his followers during their passage, was unable\nto restrain their indignation when they arrived at Constantinople. For\nsome offence or other which the Greeks had given them, but which is\nrather hinted at than stated by the scanty historians of the day, the\nGermans broke into the magnificent pleasure garden of the Emperor,\nwhere he had a valuable collection of tame animals, for which the\ngrounds had been laid out in woods, caverns, groves, and streams, that\neach might follow in captivity his natural habits. The enraged Germans,\nmeriting the name of barbarians that had been bestowed upon them, laid\nwaste this pleasant retreat, and killed or let loose the valuable\nanimals it contained. Manuel, who is said to have beheld the\ndevastation from his palace windows without power or courage to prevent\nit, was completely disgusted with his guests, and resolved, like his\npredecessor Alexius, to get rid of them on the first opportunity. He\nsent a message to Conrad respectfully desiring an interview, but the\nGerman refused to trust himself within the walls of Constantinople. The\nGreek Emperor, on his part, thought it compatible neither with his\ndignity nor his safety to seek the German, and several days were spent\nin insincere negotiations. Manuel at length agreed to furnish the\ncrusading army with guides to conduct it through Asia Minor; and Conrad\npassed over the Hellespont with his forces, the advanced guard being\ncommanded by himself, and the rear by the warlike Bishop of Freysinghen.\n\nHistorians are almost unanimous in their belief that the wily Greek\ngave instructions to his guides to lead the army of the German Emperor\ninto dangers and difficulties. It is certain, that instead of guiding\nthem through such districts of Asia Minor as afforded water and\nprovisions, they led them into the wilds of Cappadocia, where neither\nwas to be procured, and where they were suddenly attacked by the\nSultaun of the Seljukian Turks, at the head of an immense force.  The\nguides, whose treachery is apparent from this fact alone, fled at the\nfirst sight of the Turkish army, and the Christians were left to wage\nunequal warfare with their enemy, entangled and bewildered in desert\nwilds. Toiling in their heavy mail, the Germans could make but little\neffective resistance to the attacks of the Turkish light horse, who\nwere down upon them one instant, and out of sight the next. Now in the\nfront and now in the rear, the agile foe showered his arrows upon them,\nenticing them into swamps and hollows, from which they could only\nextricate themselves after long struggles and great losses. The\nGermans, confounded by this mode of warfare, lost all conception of the\ndirection they were pursuing, and went back instead of forward.\nSuffering at the same time for want of provisions, they fell an easy\nprey to their pursuers. Count Bernhard, one of the bravest leaders of\nthe German expedition, was surrounded, with his whole division, not one\nof whom escaped the Turkish arrows. The Emperor himself had nearly\nfallen a victim, and was twice severely wounded. So persevering was the\nenemy, and so little able were the Germans to make even a show of\nresistance, that when Conrad at last reached the city of Nice, he found\nthat, instead of being at the head of an imposing force of one hundred\nthousand foot and seventy thousand horse, he had but fifty or sixty\nthousand men, and these in the most worn and wearied condition.\n\nTotally ignorant of the treachery of the Greek Emperor, although he had\nbeen warned to beware of it, Louis VII. proceeded, at the head of his\narmy, through Worms and Ratisbon, towards Constantinople. At Ratisbon\nhe was met by a deputation from Manuel, bearing letters so full of\nhyperbole and flattery, that Louis is reported to have blushed when\nthey were read to him by the Bishop of Langres. The object of the\ndeputation was to obtain from the French King a promise to pass through\nthe Grecian territories in a peaceable and friendly manner, and to\nyield to the Greek Emperor any conquest he might make in Asia Minor.\nThe first part of the proposition was immediately acceded to, but no\nnotice was taken of the second and more unreasonable. Louis marched on,\nand, passing through Hungary, pitched his tents in the outskirts of\nConstantinople.\n\nOn his arrival, Manuel sent him a friendly invitation to enter the\ncity, at the head of a small train. Louis at once accepted it, and was\nmet by the Emperor at the porch of his palace. The fairest promises\nwere made; every art that flattery could suggest was resorted to, and\nevery argument employed, to induce him to yield his future conquests to\nthe Greek. Louis obstinately refused to pledge himself, and returned to\nhis army, convinced that the Emperor was a man not to be trusted.\nNegotiations were, however, continued for several days, to the great\ndissatisfaction of the French army. The news that arrived of a treaty\nentered into between Manuel and the Turkish Sultan changed their\ndissatisfaction into fury, and the leaders demanded to be led against\nConstantinople, swearing that they would raze the treacherous city to\nthe ground. Louis did not feel inclined to accede to this proposal,\nand, breaking up his camp, he crossed over into Asia.\n\nHere he heard, for the first time, of the mishaps of the German\nEmperor, whom he found in a woeful plight under the walls of Nice. The\ntwo monarchs united their forces, and marched together along the\nsea-coast to Ephesus; but Conrad, jealous, it would appear, of the\nsuperior numbers of the French, and not liking to sink into a vassal,\nfor the time being, of his rival, withdrew abruptly with the remnant of\nhis legions, and returned to Constantinople. Manuel was all smiles and\ncourtesy. He condoled with the German so feelingly upon his losses, and\ncursed the stupidity or treachery of the guides with such apparent\nheartiness, that Conrad was half inclined to believe in his sincerity.\n\nLouis, marching onward in the direction of Jerusalem, came up with the\nenemy on the banks of the Meander. The Turks contested the passage of\nthe river, but the French bribed a peasant to point out a ford lower\ndown: crossing the river without difficulty, they attacked the Turks\nwith much vigour, and put them to flight. Whether the Turks were really\ndefeated, or merely pretended to be so, is doubtful; but the latter\nsupposition seems to be the true one. It is probable that it was part\nof a concerted plan to draw the invaders onwards to more unfavourable\nground, where their destruction might be more certain. If such were the\nscheme, it succeeded to the heart's wish of its projectors. The\ncrusaders, on the third day after their victory, arrived at a steep\nmountain-pass, on the summit of which the Turkish host lay concealed so\nartfully, that not the slightest vestige of their presence could be\nperceived. \"With labouring steps and slow,\" they toiled up the steep\nascent, when suddenly a tremendous fragment of rock came bounding down\nthe precipices with an awful crash, bearing dismay and death before it.\nAt the same instant the Turkish archers started from their\nhiding-places, and discharged a shower of arrows upon the foot\nsoldiers, who fell by hundreds at a time. The arrows rebounded\nharmlessly against the iron mail of the knights, which the Turks\nobserving, took aim at their steeds, and horse and rider fell down the\nsteep into the rapid torrent which rushed below. Louis, who commanded\nthe rear-guard, received the first intimation of the onslaught from the\nsight of his wounded and flying soldiers, and, not knowing the numbers\nof the enemy, he pushed vigorously forward to stay, by his presence,\nthe panic which had taken possession of his army. All his efforts were\nin vain. Immense stones continued to be hurled upon them as they\nadvanced, bearing men and horse before them; and those who succeeded in\nforcing their way to the top, were met hand-to-hand by the Turks, and\ncast down headlong upon their companions. Louis himself fought with the\nenergy of desperation, but had great difficulty to avoid falling into\nthe enemy's hands. He escaped at last under cover of the night, with\nthe remnant of his forces, and took up his position before Attalia.\nHere he restored the discipline and the courage of his disorganized and\ndisheartened followers, and debated with his captains the plan that was\nto be pursued. After suffering severely both from disease and famine,\nit was resolved that they should march to Antioch, which still remained\nan independent principality under the successors of Bohemund of\nTarentum.  At this time the sovereignty was vested in the person of\nRaymond, the uncle of Eleanor of Aquitaine. This Prince, presuming upon\nhis relationship to the French Queen, endeavoured to withdraw Louis\nfrom the grand object of the Crusade--the defence of the kingdom of\nJerusalem, and secure his co-operation in extending the limits and the\npower of his principality of Antioch. The Prince of Tripoli formed a\nsimilar design, but Louis rejected the offers of both, and marched\nafter a short delay to Jerusalem. The Emperor Conrad was there before\nhim, having left Constantinople with promises of assistance from Manuel\nComnenus; assistance which never arrived, and was never intended.\n\nA great council of the Christian princes of Palestine and the leaders\nof the Crusade was then summoned, to discuss the future operations of\nthe war. It was ultimately determined that it would further the cause\nof the Cross in a greater degree if the united armies, instead of\nproceeding to Edessa, laid siege to the city of Damascus, and drove the\nSaracens from that strong position. This was a bold scheme, and, had it\nbeen boldly followed out, would have insured, in all probability, the\nsuccess of the war. But the Christian leaders never learned from\nexperience the necessity of union, that very soul of great enterprises.\nThough they all agreed upon the policy of the plan, yet every one had\nhis own notions as to the means of executing it. The Princes of Antioch\nand Tripoli were jealous of each other, and of the King of Jerusalem.\nThe Emperor Conrad was jealous of the King of France, and the King of\nFrance was disgusted with them all. But he had come out to Palestine in\naccordance with a solemn vow; his religion, though it may be called\nbigotry, was sincere; and he determined to remain to the very last\nmoment that a chance was left, of effecting any good for the cause he\nhad set his heart on.\n\nThe siege of Damascus was accordingly commenced, and with so much\nability and vigour that the Christians gained a considerable advantage\nat the very outset. For weeks the siege was pressed, till the shattered\nfortifications and diminishing resistance of the besieged gave evidence\nthat the city could not hold out much longer. At that moment the insane\njealousy of the leaders led to dissensions that soon caused the utter\nfailure, not only of the siege, but of the Crusade. A modern\ncookery-book, in giving a recipe for cooking a hare, says, \"first catch\nyour hare, and then kill it;\" a maxim of indisputable wisdom. The\nChristian chiefs on this occasion had not so much sagacity, for they\nbegan a violent dispute among themselves for the possession of a city\nwhich was still unconquered. There being already a Prince of Antioch\nand a Prince of Tripoli, twenty claimants started for the principality\nof Damascus, and a grand council of the leaders was held to determine\nthe individual on whom the honour should devolve. Many valuable days\nwere wasted in this discussion, the enemy in the mean while gaining\nstrength from their inactivity. It was at length, after a stormy\ndeliberation, agreed that Count Robert of Flanders, who had twice\nvisited the Holy Land, should be invested with the dignity. The other\nclaimants refused to recognise him, or to co-operate in the siege,\nuntil a more equitable arrangement had been made. Suspicion filled the\ncamp; the most sinister rumours of intrigues and treachery were set\nafloat; and the discontented candidates withdrew at last to the other\nside of the city, and commenced operations on their own account,\nwithout a probability of success. They were soon joined by the rest of\nthe army. The consequence was that the weakest side of the city, and\nthat on which they had already made considerable progress in the work\nof demolition, was left uncovered. The enemy was prompt to profit by\nthe mistake, and received an abundant supply of provisions, and\nrefortified the walls, before the crusaders came to their senses again.\nWhen this desirable event happened, it was too late. Saph Eddin, the\npowerful Emir of Mousoul, was in the neighbourhood, at the head of a\nlarge army, advancing by forced marches to the relief of the city. The\nsiege was abruptly abandoned, and the foolish crusaders returned to\nJerusalem, having done nothing to weaken the enemy, but every thing to\nweaken themselves.\n\nThe freshness of enthusiasm had now completely subsided;--even the\nmeanest soldiers were sick at heart. Conrad, from whose fierce zeal at\nthe outset so much might have been expected, was wearied with reverses,\nand returned to Europe with the poor remnant of his host.  Louis\nlingered a short time longer, for very shame, but the pressing\nsolicitations of his minister Suger induced him to return to France.\nThus ended the second Crusade. Its history is but a chronicle of\ndefeats. It left the kingdom of Jerusalem in a worse state than when it\nquitted Europe, and gained nothing but disgrace for its leaders and\ndiscouragement for all concerned.\n\nSt. Bernard, who had prophesied a result so different, fell after this\ninto some disrepute, and experienced, like many other prophets, the\nfate of being without honour in his own country. What made the matter\nworse, he could not obtain it in any other. Still, however, there were\nnot wanting zealous advocates to stand forward in his behalf, and stem\nthe tide of incredulity, which, unopposed, would have carried away his\nreputation. The Bishop of Freysinghen declared that prophets were not\nalways able to prophesy, and that the vices of the crusaders drew down\nthe wrath of Heaven upon them. But the most ingenious excuse ever made\nfor St. Bernard is to be found in his life by Geoffroi de Clairvaux,\nwhere he pertinaciously insists that the Crusade was not unfortunate.\nSt. Bernard, he says, had prophesied a happy result, and that result\ncould not be considered other than happy which had peopled heaven with\nso glorious an army of martyrs. Geoffroi was a cunning pleader, and, no\ndoubt, convinced a few of the zealous; but plain people, who were not\nwanting even in those days, retained their own opinion, or, what\namounts to the same thing, \"were convinced against their will.\"\n\nWe now come to the consideration of the third Crusade, and of the\ncauses which rendered it necessary. The epidemic frenzy, which had been\ncooling ever since the issue of the first expedition, was now extinct,\nor very nearly so, and the nations of Europe looked with cold\nindifference upon the armaments of their princes. But chivalry had\nflourished in its natural element of war, and was now in all its glory.\nIt continued to supply armies for the Holy Land when the popular ranks\nrefused to deliver up their able-bodied swarms. Poetry, which, more\nthan religion, inspired the third Crusade, was then but \"caviare to the\nmillion,\" who had other matters, of sterner import, to claim all their\nattention. But the knights and their retainers listened with delight to\nthe martial and amatory strains of the minstrels, minnesangers,\ntrouveres, and troubadours, and burned to win favour in ladies' eyes by\nshowing prowess in Holy Land. The third was truly the romantic era of\nthe Crusades. Men fought then, not so much for the sepulchre of Jesus,\nand the maintenance of a Christian kingdom in the East, as to gain\nglory for themselves in the best, and almost only field, where glory\ncould be obtained. They fought, not as zealots, but as soldiers; not\nfor religion, but for honour; not for the crown of martyrdom, but for\nthe favour of the lovely.\n\nIt is not necessary to enter into a detail of the events by which\nSaladin attained the sovereignty of the East, or how, after a\nsuccession of engagements, he planted the Moslem banner once more upon\nthe battlements of Jerusalem. The Christian knights and population,\nincluding the grand orders of St. John, the Hospitallers, and the\nTemplars, were sunk in an abyss of vice, and torn by unworthy\njealousies and dissensions, were unable to resist the well-trained\narmies which the wise and mighty Saladin brought forward to crush them.\nBut the news of their fall created a painful sensation among the\nchivalry of Europe, whose noblest members were linked to the dwellers\nin Palestine by many ties, both of blood and friendship. The news of\nthe great battle of Tiberias, in which Saladin defeated the Christian\nhost with terrible slaughter, arrived first in Europe, and was followed\nin quick succession by that of the capture of Jerusalem, Antioch,\nTripoli, and other cities. Dismay seized upon the clergy. The Pope\n(Urban III.) was so affected by the news that he pined away for grief,\nand was scarcely seen to smile again, until he sank into the sleep of\ndeath. [James of Vitry--William de Nangis.] His successor, Gregory\nVIII. felt the loss as acutely, but had better strength to bear it, and\ninstructed all the clergy of the Christian world to stir up the people\nto arms for the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre. William, Archbishop of\nTyre, a humble follower in the path of Peter the Hermit, left Palestine\nto preach to the Kings of Europe the miseries he had witnessed, and to\nincite them to the rescue. The renowned Frederick Barbarossa, the\nEmperor of Germany, speedily collected an army, and passing over into\nSyria with less delay than had ever before awaited a crusading force,\ndefeated the Saracens, and took possession of the city of Iconium. He\nwas unfortunately cut off in the middle of his successful career, by\nimprudently bathing in the Cydnus [The desire of comparing two great\nmen has tempted many writers to drown Frederick in the river Cydnus, in\nwhich Alexander so imprudently bathed (Q. Curt. lib. iii. c. 4, 5.):\nbut, from the march of the Emperor, I rather judge that his Saleph is\nthe Calycadnus, a stream of less fame, but of a longer course.--Gibbon]\nwhile he was overheated, and the Duke of Suabia took the command of the\nexpedition. The latter did not prove so able a general, and met with\nnothing but reverses, although he was enabled to maintain a footing at\nAntioch until assistance arrived from Europe.\n\nHenry II. of England and Philip Augustus of France, at the head of\ntheir chivalry, supported the Crusade with all their influence, until\nwars and dissensions nearer home estranged them from it for a time.\nThe two kings met at Gisors in Normandy in the month of January 1188,\naccompanied by a brilliant train of knights and warriors. William of\nTyre was present, and expounded the cause of the Cross with\nconsiderable eloquence, and the whole assembly bound themselves by oath\nto proceed to Jerusalem. It was agreed at the same time that a tax,\ncalled Saladin's tithe, and consisting of the tenth part of all\npossessions, whether landed or personal, should be enforced over\nChristendom, upon every one who was either unable or unwilling to\nassume the Cross. The lord of every feof, whether lay or\necclesiastical, was charged to raise the tithe within his own\njurisdiction; and any one who refused to pay his quota, became by that\nact the bondsman and absolute property of his lord. At the same time\nthe greatest indulgence was shown to those who assumed the Cross; no\nman was at liberty to stay them by process of any kind, whether for\ndebt, or robbery, or murder. The King of France, at the breaking up of\nthe conference, summoned a parliament at Paris, where these resolutions\nwere solemnly confirmed, while Henry II. did the same for his Norman\npossessions at Rouen, and for England at Geddington, in\nNorthamptonshire. To use the words of an ancient chronicler, [Stowe.]\n\"he held a parliament about the voyage into the Holy Land, and troubled\nthe whole land with the paying of tithes towards it.\"\n\nBut it was not England only that was \"troubled\" by the tax. The people\nof France also looked upon it with no pleasant feelings, and appear\nfrom that time forth to have changed their indifference for the Crusade\ninto aversion. Even the clergy, who were exceedingly willing that other\npeople should contribute half, or even all their goods in furtherance\nof their favourite scheme, were not at all anxious to contribute a\nsingle sous themselves. Millot [\"Elemens de l'Histoire de France.\"]\nrelates that several of them cried out against the impost.  Among the\nrest the clergy of Rheims were called upon to pay their quota, but sent\na deputation to the King, begging him to be contented with the aid of\ntheir prayers, as they were too poor to contribute in any other shape.\nPhilip Augustus knew better, and by way of giving them a lesson,\nemployed three nobles of the vicinity to lay waste the church lands.\nThe clergy, informed of the outrage, applied to the King for redress.\n\"I will aid you with my prayers,\" said the Monarch condescendingly,\n\"and will intreat those gentlemen to let the church alone.\" He did as\nhe had promised, but in such a manner, that the nobles, who appreciated\nthe joke, continued their devastations as before. Again the clergy\napplied to the King. \"What would you have of me?\" he replied, in answer\nto their remonstrances: \"You gave me your prayers in my necessity, and\nI have given you mine in yours.\" The clergy understood the argument,\nand thought it the wiser course to pay their quota of Saladin's tithe\nwithout further parley.\n\nThis anecdote shows the unpopularity of the Crusade. If the clergy\ndisliked to contribute, it is no wonder that the people felt still\ngreater antipathy. But the chivalry of Europe was eager for the affray:\nthe tithe was rigorously collected, and armies from England, France,\nBurgundy, Italy, Flanders, and Germany, were soon in the field; The two\nkings who were to have led it, were, however, drawn into broils by an\naggression of Richard; Duke of Guienne, better known as Richard Coeur\nde Lion, upon the territory of the Count of Toulouse, and the proposed\njourney to Palestine was delayed. War continued to rage between France\nand England, and with so little probability of a speedy termination,\nthat many of the nobles, bound to the Crusade, left the two Monarchs to\nsettle their differences at their leisure, and proceeded to Palestine\nwithout them.\n\nDeath at last stepped in and removed Henry II. from the hostility of\nhis foes, and the treachery and ingratitude of his children. His son\nRichard immediately concluded an alliance with Philip Augustus, and the\ntwo young, valiant, and impetuous Monarchs, united all their energies\nto forward the Crusade. They met with a numerous and brilliant retinue\nat Nonancourt in Normandy, where, in sight of their assembled chivalry,\nthey embraced as brothers, and swore to live as friends and true\nallies, until a period of forty days after their return from the Holy\nLand. With a view of purging their camp from the follies and vices\nwhich had proved so ruinous to preceding expeditions, they drew up a\ncode of laws for the government of the army. Gambling had been carried\nto a great extent, and had proved the fruitful source of quarrels and\nbloodshed, and one of their laws prohibited any person in the army,\nbeneath the degree of a knight, from playing at any game for money.\n[Strutt's \"Sports and Pastimes.\"] Knights and clergymen might play for\nmoney, but no one was permitted to lose or gain more than twenty\nshillings in a day, under a penalty of one hundred shillings. The\npersonal attendants of the Monarchs were also allowed to play to the\nsame extent. The penalty in their case for infraction was that they\nshould be whipped naked through the army for the space of three days.\nAny crusader, who struck another and drew blood, was ordered to have\nhis hand cut off; and whoever slew a brother crusader was condemned to\nbe tied alive to the corpse of his victim and buried with him. No young\nwomen were allowed to follow the army, to the great sorrow of many\nvicious and of many virtuous dames, who had not courage to elude the\ndecree by dressing in male attire.  But many high-minded and\naffectionate maidens and matrons, bearing the sword or the spear,\nfollowed their husbands and lovers to the war in spite of King Richard,\nand in defiance of danger. The only women allowed to accompany the army\nin their own habiliments, were washerwomen, of fifty years complete,\nand any others of the fair sex who had reached the same age.\n\nThese rules having been promulgated, the two monarchs marched together\nto Lyons, where they separated, agreeing to meet again at Messina.\nPhilip proceeded across the Alps to Genoa, where he took ship, and was\nconveyed in safety to the place of rendezvous. Richard turned in the\ndirection of Marseilles, where he also took ship for Messina. His\nimpetuous disposition hurried him into many squabbles by the way, and\nhis knights and followers, for the most part as brave and as foolish as\nhimself, imitated him very zealously in this particular.  At Messina\nthe Sicilians charged the most exorbitant prices for every necessary of\nlife. Richard's army in vain remonstrated. From words they came to\nblows, and, as a last resource, plundered the Sicilians, since they\ncould not trade with them. Continual battles were the consequence, in\none of which Lebrun, the favourite attendant of Richard, lost his life.\nThe peasantry from far and near came flocking to the aid of the\ntownspeople, and the battle soon became general.  Richard, irritated at\nthe loss of his favourite, and incited by a report that Tancred, the\nKing of Sicily, was fighting at the head of his own people, joined the\nmelee with his boldest knights, and, beating back the Sicilians,\nattacked the city, sword in hand, stormed the battlements, tore down\nthe flag of Sicily, and planted his own in its stead. This collision\ngave great offence to the King of France, who became from that time\njealous of Richard, and apprehensive that his design was not so much to\nre-establish the Christian Kingdom of Jerusalem, as to make conquests\nfor himself. He, however, exerted his influence to restore peace\nbetween the English and Sicilians, and shortly afterwards set sail for\nAcre, with distrust of his ally germinating in his heart.\n\nRichard remained behind for some weeks, in a state of inactivity quite\nunaccountable in one of his temperament. He appears to have had no more\nsquabbles with the Sicilians, but to have lived an easy luxurious life,\nforgetting, in the lap of pleasure, the objects for which he had\nquitted his own dominions and the dangerous laxity he was introducing\ninto his army. The superstition of his soldiers recalled him at length\nto a sense of his duty: a comet was seen for several successive nights,\nwhich was thought to menace them with the vengeance of Heaven for their\ndelay. Shooting stars gave them similar warning; and a fanatic, of the\nname of Joachim, with his drawn sword in his hand, and his long hair\nstreaming wildly over his shoulders, went through the camp, howling all\nnight long, and predicting plague, famine, and every other calamity, if\nthey did not set out immediately.  Richard did not deem it prudent to\nneglect the intimations; and, after doing humble penance for his\nremissness, he set sail for Acre.\n\nA violent storm dispersed his fleet, but he arrived safely at Rhodes\nwith the principal part of the armament. Here he learned that three of\nhis ships had been stranded on the rocky coasts of Cyprus, and that the\nruler of the island, Isaac Comnenus, had permitted his people to\npillage the unfortunate crews, and had refused shelter to his betrothed\nbride, the Princess Berengaria, and his sister, who, in one of the\nvessels, had been driven by stress of weather into the port of Limisso.\nThe fiery monarch swore to be revenged, and, collecting all his\nvessels, sailed back to Limisso. Isaac Comnenus refused to apologize or\nexplain, and Richard, in no mood to be trifled with, landed on the\nisland, routed with great loss the forces sent to oppose him, and laid\nthe whole country under contribution.\n\nOn his arrival at Acre, he found the whole of the chivalry of Europe\nthere before him. Guy of Lusignan, the King of Jerusalem, had long\nbefore collected the bold Knights of the Temple, the Hospital, and St.\nJohn, and had laid siege to Acre, which was resolutely defended by the\nSultan Saladin, with an army magnificent both for its numbers and its\ndiscipline. For nearly two years the crusaders had pushed the siege,\nand made efforts almost superhuman to dislodge the enemy. Various\nbattles had taken place in the open fields with no decisive advantage\nto either party, and Guy of Lusignan had begun to despair of taking\nthat strong position without aid from Europe. His joy was extreme on\nthe arrival of Philip with all his chivalry, and he only awaited the\ncoming of Coeur de Lion to make one last decisive attack upon the town.\nWhen the fleet of England was first seen approaching the shores of\nSyria, a universal shout arose from the Christian camp; and when\nRichard landed with his train, one louder still pierced to the very\nmountains of the south, where Saladin lay with all his army.\n\nIt may be remarked as characteristic of this Crusade, that the\nChristians and the Moslems no longer looked upon each other as\nbarbarians, to whom mercy was a crime. Each host entertained the\nhighest admiration for the bravery and magnanimity of the other, and in\ntheir occasional truces met upon the most friendly terms. The Moslem\nwarriors were full of courtesy to the Christian knights, and had no\nother regret than to think that such fine fellows were not Mahomedans.\nThe Christians, with a feeling precisely similar, extolled to the skies\nthe nobleness of the Saracens, and sighed to think that such generosity\nand valour should be sullied by disbelief in the Gospel of Jesus. But\nwhen the strife began, all these feelings disappeared, and the struggle\nbecame mortal.\n\nThe jealousy excited in the mind of Philip by the events of Messina\nstill rankled, and the two monarchs refused to act in concert.  Instead\nof making a joint attack upon the town, the French monarch assailed it\nalone, and was repulsed. Richard did the same, and with the same\nresult. Philip tried to seduce the soldiers of Richard from their\nallegiance by the offer of three gold pieces per month to every knight\nwho would forsake the banners of England for those of France.  Richard\nmet the bribe by another, and promised four pieces to every French\nknight who should join the Lion of England. In this unworthy rivalry\ntheir time was wasted, to the great detriment of the discipline and\nefficiency of their followers. Some good was nevertheless effected; for\nthe mere presence of two such armies prevented the besieged city from\nreceiving supplies, and the inhabitants were reduced by famine to the\nmost woeful straits. Saladin did not deem it prudent to risk a general\nengagement by coming to their relief, but preferred to wait till\ndissension had weakened his enemy, and made him an easy prey. Perhaps\nif he had been aware of the real extent of the extremity in Acre, he\nwould have changed his plan; but, cut off from the town, he did not\nknow their misery till it was too late. After a short truce the city\ncapitulated upon terms so severe that Saladin afterwards refused to\nratify them. The chief conditions were, that the precious wood of the\ntrue cross, captured by the Moslems in Jerusalem, should be restored;\nthat a sum of two hundred thousand gold pieces should be paid; and that\nall the Christian prisoners in Acre should be released, together with\ntwo hundred knights and a thousand soldiers, detained in captivity by\nSaladin. The eastern monarch, as may be well conceived, did not set\nmuch store on the wood of the cross, but was nevertheless anxious to\nkeep it, as he knew its possession by the Christians would do more than\na victory to restore their courage. He refused, therefore, to deliver\nit up, or to accede to any of the conditions; and Richard, as he had\npreviously threatened, barbarously ordered all the Saracen prisoners in\nhis power to be put to death.\n\nThe possession of the city only caused new and unhappy dissensions\nbetween the Christian leaders. The Archduke of Austria unjustifiably\nhoisted his flag on one of the towers of Acre, which Richard no sooner\nsaw than he tore it down with his own hands, and trampled it under his\nfeet. Philip, though he did not sympathise with the Archduke, was\npiqued at the assumption of Richard, and the breach between the two\nmonarchs became wider than ever. A foolish dispute arose at the same\ntime between Guy of Lusignan and Conrad of Montferrat for the crown of\nJerusalem. The inferior knights were not slow to imitate the pernicious\nexample, and jealousy, distrust, and ill-will reigned in the Christian\ncamp. In the midst of this confusion the King of France suddenly\nannounced his intention to return to his own country. Richard was\nfilled with indignation, and exclaimed, \"Eternal shame light on him,\nand on all France, if, for any cause, he leave this work unfinished!\"\nBut Philip was not to be stayed. His health had suffered by his\nresidence in the East, and, ambitious of playing a first part, he\npreferred to play none at all, than to play second to King Richard.\nLeaving a small detachment of Burgundians behind, he returned to France\nwith the remainder of his army; and Coeur de Lion, without feeling, in\nthe multitude of his rivals, that he had lost the greatest, became\npainfully convinced that the right arm of the enterprize was lopped off.\n\nAfter his departure, Richard re-fortified Acre, restored the Christian\nworship in the churches, and, leaving a Christian garrison to protect\nit, marched along the sea-coast towards Ascalon. Saladin was on the\nalert, and sent his light horse to attack the rear of the Christian\narmy, while he himself, miscalculating their weakness since the\ndefection of Philip, endeavoured to force them to a general engagement.\nThe rival armies met near Azotus. A fierce battle ensued, in which\nSaladin was defeated and put to flight, and the road to Jerusalem left\nfree for the crusaders.\n\nAgain discord exerted its baleful influence, and prevented Richard from\nfollowing up his victory. His opinion was constantly opposed by the\nother leaders, all jealous of his bravery and influence; and the army,\ninstead of marching to Jerusalem, or even to Ascalon, as was first\nintended, proceeded to Jaffa, and remained in idleness until Saladin\nwas again in a condition to wage war against them.\n\nMany months were spent in fruitless hostilities and as fruitless\nnegotiations. Richard's wish was to recapture Jerusalem; but there were\ndifficulties in the way, which even his bold spirit could not conquer.\nHis own intolerable pride was not the least cause of the evil; for it\nestranged many a generous spirit, who would have been willing to\nco-operate with him in all cordiality. At length it was agreed to march\nto the Holy City; but the progress made was so slow and painful, that\nthe soldiers murmured, and the leaders meditated retreat. The weather\nwas hot and dry, and there was little water to be procured. Saladin had\nchoked up the wells and cisterns on the route, and the army had not\nzeal enough to push forward amid such privation.  At Bethlehem a\ncouncil was held, to debate whether they should retreat or advance.\nRetreat was decided upon, and immediately commenced. It is said, that\nRichard was first led to a hill, whence he could obtain a sight of the\ntowers of Jerusalem, and that he was so affected at being so near it,\nand so unable to relieve it, that he hid his face behind his shield,\nand sobbed aloud.\n\nThe army separated into two divisions, the smaller falling back upon\nJaffa, and the larger, commanded by Richard and the Duke of Burgundy,\nreturning to Acre. Before the English monarch had made all his\npreparations for his return to Europe, a messenger reached Acre with\nthe intelligence that Jaffa was besieged by Saladin, and that, unless\nrelieved immediately, the city would be taken. The French, under the\nDuke of Burgundy, were so wearied with the war, that they refused to\naid their brethren in Jaffa. Richard, blushing with shame at their\npusillanimity, called his English to the rescue, and arrived just in\ntime to save the city. His very name put the Saracens to flight, so\ngreat was their dread of his prowess. Saladin regarded him with the\nwarmest admiration, and when Richard, after his victory, demanded\npeace, willingly acceded. A truce was concluded for three years and\neight months, during which Christian pilgrims were to enjoy the liberty\nof visiting Jerusalem without hindrance or payment of any tax. The\ncrusaders were allowed to retain the cities of Tyre and Jaffa, with the\ncountry intervening. Saladin, with a princely generosity, invited many\nof the Christians to visit Jerusalem; and several of the leaders took\nadvantage of his offer to feast their eyes upon a spot which all\nconsidered so sacred. Many of them were entertained for days in the\nSultan's own palace, from which they returned with their tongues laden\nwith the praises of the noble infidel. Richard and Saladin never met,\nthough the impression that they did will remain on many minds, who have\nbeen dazzled by the glorious fiction of Sir Walter Scott. But each\nadmired the prowess and nobleness of soul of his rival, and agreed to\nterms far less onerous than either would have accepted, had this mutual\nadmiration not existed.[Richard left a high reputation in Palestine. So\nmuch terror did his name occasion, that the women of Syria used it to\nfrighten their children for ages afterwards. Every disobedient brat\nbecame still when told that King Richard was coming. Even men shared\nthe panic that his name created; and a hundred years afterwards,\nwhenever a horse shied at any object in the way, his rider would\nexclaim, \"What! dost thou think King Richard is in the bush?\"]\n\nThe King of England no longer delayed his departure, for messengers\nfrom his own country brought imperative news that his presence was\nrequired to defeat the intrigues that were fomenting against his crown.\nHis long imprisonment in the Austrian dominions and final ransom are\ntoo well known to be dwelt upon. And thus ended the third Crusade, less\ndestructive of human life than the two first, but quite as useless.\n\nThe flame of popular enthusiasm now burned pale indeed, and all the\nefforts of popes and potentates were insufficient to rekindle it.  At\nlast, after flickering unsteadily, like a lamp expiring in the socket,\nit burned up brightly for one final instant, and was extinguished for\never.\n\nThe fourth Crusade, as connected with popular feeling, requires little\nor no notice. At the death of Saladin, which happened a year after the\nconclusion of his truce with Richard of England, his vast empire fell\nto pieces. His brother Saif Eddin, or Saphaddin, seized upon Syria, in\nthe possession of which he was troubled by the sons of Saladin. When\nthis intelligence reached Europe, the Pope, Celestine III. judged the\nmoment favourable for preaching a new Crusade. But every nation in\nEurope was unwilling and cold towards it. The people had no ardour, and\nKings were occupied with more weighty matters at home. The only Monarch\nof Europe who encouraged it was the Emperor Henry of Germany, under\nwhose auspices the Dukes of Saxony and Bavaria took the field at the\nhead of a considerable force. They landed in Palestine, and found\nanything but a welcome from the Christian inhabitants. Under the mild\nsway of Saladin, they had enjoyed repose and toleration, and both were\nendangered by the arrival of the Germans. They looked upon them in\nconsequence as over-officious intruders, and gave them no encouragement\nin the warfare against Saphaddin. The result of this Crusade was even\nmore disastrous than the last--for the Germans contrived not only to\nembitter the Saracens against the Christians of Judea, but to lose the\nstrong city of Jaffa, and cause the destruction of nine-tenths of the\narmy with which they had quitted Europe. And so ended the fourth\nCrusade.\n\nThe fifth was more important, and had a result which its projectors\nnever dreamed of--no less than the sacking of Constantinople, and the\nplacing of a French dynasty upon the imperial throne of the eastern\nCaesars. Each succeeding Pope, however much he may have differed from\nhis predecessors on other points, zealously agreed in one, that of\nmaintaining by every possible means the papal ascendancy. No scheme was\nso likely to aid in this endeavour as the Crusades. As long as they\ncould persuade the kings and nobles of Europe to fight and die in\nSyria, their own sway was secured over the minds of men at home. Such\nbeing their object, they never inquired whether a Crusade was or was\nnot likely to be successful, whether the time were well or ill chosen,\nor whether men and money could be procured in sufficient abundance.\nPope Innocent III. would have been proud if he could have bent the\nrefractory Monarchs of England and France into so much submission. But\nJohn and Philip Augustus were both engaged. Both had deeply offended\nthe church, and had been laid under her ban, and both were occupied in\nimportant reforms at home; Philip in bestowing immunities upon his\nsubjects, and John in having them forced from him. The emissaries of\nthe Pope therefore plied them in vain;--but as in the first and second\nCrusades, the eloquence of a powerful preacher incited the nobility,\nand through them a certain portion of the people, Foulque, Bishop of\nNeuilly, an ambitious and enterprizing prelate, entered fully into the\nviews of the Court of Rome, and preached the Crusade wherever he could\nfind an audience.  Chance favoured him to a degree he did not himself\nexpect, for he had in general found but few proselytes, and those few\nbut cold in the cause. Theobald, Count of Champagne, had instituted a\ngrand tournament, to which he had invited all the nobles from far and\nnear.  Upwards of two thousand knights were present with their\nretainers, besides a vast concourse of people to witness the sports. In\nthe midst of the festivities Foulque arrived upon the spot, and\nconceiving the opportunity to be a favourable one, he addressed the\nmultitude in eloquent language, and passionately called upon them to\nenrol themselves for the new Crusade. The Count de Champagne, young,\nardent, and easily excited, received the cross at his hands. The\nenthusiasm spread rapidly. Charles Count of Blois followed the example,\nand of the two thousand knights present, scarcely one hundred and fifty\nrefused. The popular phrensy seemed on the point of breaking out as in\nthe days of yore. The Count of Flanders, the Count of Bar, the Duke of\nBurgundy, and the Marquis of Montferrat, brought all their vassals to\nswell the train, and in a very short space of time an effective army\nwas on foot and ready to march to Palestine.\n\nThe dangers of an overland journey were too well understood, and the\ncrusaders endeavoured to make a contract with some of the Italian\nstates to convey them over in their vessels. Dandolo, the aged Doge of\nVenice, offered them the galleys of the Republic; but the crusaders, on\ntheir arrival in that city, found themselves too poor to pay even half\nthe sum demanded. Every means was tried to raise money; the crusaders\nmelted down their plate, and ladies gave up their trinkets.\nContributions were solicited from the faithful, but came in so slowly,\nas to make it evident to all concerned, that the faithful of Europe\nwere outnumbered by the prudent. As a last resource, Dandolo offered to\nconvey them to Palestine at the expense of the Republic, if they would\npreviously aid in the recapture of the city of Zara, which had been\nseized from the Venetians a short time previously by the King of\nHungary. The crusaders consented, much to the displeasure of the Pope,\nwho threatened excommunication upon all who should be turned aside from\nthe voyage to Jerusalem. But notwithstanding the fulminations of the\nchurch, the expedition never reached Palestine. The siege of Zara was\nspeedily undertaken. After a long and brave defence, the city\nsurrendered at discretion, and the crusaders were free, if they had so\nchosen it, to use their swords against the Saracens. But the ambition\nof the chiefs had been directed, by unforeseen circumstances, elsewhere.\n\nAfter the death of Manuel Comnenus, the Greek empire had fallen a prey\nto intestine divisions. His son Alexius II. had succeeded him, but was\nmurdered after a very short reign by his uncle Andronicus, who seized\nupon the throne. His reign also was but of short duration.  Isaac\nAngelus, a member of the same family, took up arms against the usurper,\nand having defeated and captured him in a pitched battle, had him put\nto death. He also mounted the throne only to be cast down from it. His\nbrother Alexius deposed him, and to incapacitate him from reigning, put\nout his eyes, and shut him up in a dungeon. Neither was Alexius III.\nallowed to remain in peaceable possession of the throne; the son of the\nunhappy Isaac, whose name also was Alexius, fled from Constantinople,\nand hearing that the crusaders had undertaken the siege of Zara, made\nthem the most magnificent offers if they would afterwards aid him in\ndeposing his uncle. His offers were, that if by their means he was\nre-established in his father's dominions, he would place the Greek\nchurch under the authority of the Pope of Rome, lend the whole force of\nthe Greek Empire to the conquest of Palestine, and distribute two\nhundred thousand marks of silver among the crusading army. The offer\nwas accepted, with a proviso on the part of some of the leaders, that\nthey should be free to abandon the design, if it met with the\ndisapproval of the Pope. But this was not to be feared. The submission\nof the schismatic Greeks to the See of Rome was a greater bribe to the\nPontiff, than the utter annihilation of the Saracen power in Palestine\nwould have been.\n\nThe crusaders were soon in movement for the imperial city. Their\noperations were skilfully and courageously directed, and spread such\ndismay as to paralyse the efforts of the usurper to retain possession\nof his throne. After a vain resistance, he abandoned the city to its\nfate, and fled no one knew whither. The aged and blind Isaac was taken\nfrom his dungeon by his subjects, and placed upon the throne ere the\ncrusaders were apprized of the flight of his rival. His son Alexius IV.\nwas afterwards associated with him in the sovereignty.\n\nBut the conditions of the treaty gave offence to the Grecian people,\nwhose prelates refused to place themselves under the dominion of the\nSee of Rome. Alexius at first endeavoured to persuade his subjects to\nsubmission, and prayed the crusaders to remain in Constantinople until\nthey had fortified him in the possession of a throne which was yet far\nfrom secure. He soon became unpopular with his subjects; and breaking\nfaith with regard to the subsidies, he offended the crusaders. War was\nat length declared upon him by both parties; by his people for his\ntyranny, and by his former friends for his treachery. He was seized in\nhis palace by his own guards and thrown into prison, while the\ncrusaders were making ready to besiege his capital. The Greeks\nimmediately proceeded to the election of a new Monarch; and looking\nabout for a man with courage, energy, and perseverance, they fixed upon\nAlexius Ducas, who, with almost every bad quality, was possessed of the\nvirtues they needed. He ascended the throne under the name of\nMurzuphlis. One of his first acts was to rid himself of his youngest\npredecessor--a broken heart had already removed the blind old Isaac--no\nlonger a stumbling block in his way--and the young Alexius was soon\nafter put to death in his prison.\n\nWar to the knife was now declared between the Greeks and the Franks,\nand early in the spring of the year 1204, preparations were commenced\nfor an assault upon Constantinople. The French and Venetians entered\ninto a treaty for the division of the spoils among their soldiery, for\nso confident were they of success, that failure never once entered into\ntheir calculations. This confidence led them on to victory, while the\nGreeks, cowardly as treacherous people always are, were paralysed by a\nforeboding of evil. It has been a matter of astonishment to all\nhistorians, that Murzuphlis, with the reputation for courage which he\nhad acquired, and the immense resources at his disposal, took no better\nmeasures to repel the onset of the crusaders.  Their numbers were as a\nmere handful in comparison with those which he could have brought\nagainst them; and if they had the hopes of plunder to lead them on, the\nGreeks had their homes to fight for, and their very existence as a\nnation to protect. After an impetuous assault, repulsed for one day,\nbut renewed with double impetuosity on another, the crusaders lashed\ntheir vessels against the walls, slew every man who opposed them, and,\nwith little loss to themselves, entered the city. Murzuphlis fled, and\nConstantinople was given over to be pillaged by the victors. The wealth\nthey found was enormous. In money alone there was sufficient to\ndistribute twenty marks of silver to each knight, ten to each squire or\nservant at arms, and five to each archer. Jewels, velvets, silks, and\nevery luxury of attire, with rare wines and fruits, and valuable\nmerchandise of every description, also fell into their hands, and were\nbought by the trading Venetians, and the proceeds distributed among the\narmy. Two thousand persons were put to the sword; but had there been\nless plunder to take up the attention of the victors, the slaughter\nwould in all probability have been much greater.\n\nIn many of the bloody wars which defile the page of history, we find\nthat soldiers, utterly reckless of the works of God, will destroy his\nmasterpiece, man, with unsparing brutality, but linger with respect\naround the beautiful works of art. They will slaughter women and\nchildren, but spare a picture; will hew down the sick, the helpless,\nand the hoary-headed, but refrain from injuring a fine piece of\nsculpture. The Latins, on their entrance into Constantinople, respected\nneither the works of God nor man, but vented their brutal ferocity upon\nthe one and satisfied their avarice upon the other. Many beautiful\nbronze statues, above all price as works of art, were broken into\npieces to be sold as old metal. The finely-chiselled marble, which\ncould be put to no such vile uses, was also destroyed, with a\nrecklessness; if possible, still more atrocious. [The following is a\nlist of some of the works of art thus destroyed, from Nicetas, a\ncontemporary Greek author:--1st. A colossal Juno, from the forum of\nConstantine, the head of which was so large that four horses could\nscarcely draw it from the place where it stood to the palace. 2d. The\nstatue of Paris presenting the apple to Venus. 3d. An immense bronze\npyramid, crowned by a female figure, which turned with the wind. 4th.\nThe colossal statue of Bellerophon, in bronze, which was broken down\nand cast into the furnace. Under the inner nail of the horse's hind\nfoot on the left side, was found a seal wrapped in a woollen cloth.\n5th. A figure of Hercules, by Lysimachus, of such vast dimensions that\nthe thumb was equal in circumference to the waist of a man. 6th. The\nAss and his driver, cast by order of Augustus after the battle of\nActium, in commemoration of his having discovered the position of\nAntony through the means of an ass-driver. 7th. The Wolf suckling the\ntwins of Rome. 8th. The Gladiator in combat with a lion. 9th. The\nHippopotamus. 10th. The Sphinxes. 11th. An eagle fighting with a\nserpent. 12th. A beautiful statue of Helen. 13th. A group, with a\nmonster somewhat resembling a bull, engaged in deadly conflict with a\nserpent; and many other works of art, too numerous to mention.]\n\nThe carnage being over, and the spoil distributed, six persons were\nchosen from among the Franks and six from among the Venetians, who were\nto meet and elect an Emperor, previously binding themselves by oath to\nselect the individual best qualified among the candidates.  The choice\nwavered between Baldwin, Count of Flanders, and Boniface, Marquis of\nMontferrat, but fell eventually upon the former. He was straightway\nrobed in the imperial purple, and became the founder of a new dynasty.\nHe did not live long to enjoy his power, or to consolidate it for his\nsuccessors, who, in their turn, were soon swept away. In less than\nsixty years the rule of the Franks at Constantinople was brought to as\nsudden and disastrous a termination as the reign of Murzuphlis: and\nthis was the grand result of the fifth Crusade.\n\nPope Innocent III, although he had looked with no very unfavourable eye\nupon these proceedings, regretted that nothing had been done for the\nrelief of the Holy Land; still, upon every convenient occasion, he\nenforced the necessity of a new Crusade. Until the year 1213, his\nexhortations had no other effect than to keep the subject in the mind\nof Europe. Every spring and summer, detachments of pilgrims continued\nto set out for Palestine to the aid of their brethren, but not in\nsufficient numbers to be of much service. These periodical passages\nwere called the passagiuum Martii, or the passage of March, and the\npassagium Johannis, or the passage of the festival of St. John. These\ndid not consist entirely of soldiers, armed against the Saracen, but of\npilgrims led by devotion, and in performance of their vows, bearing\nnothing with them but their staff and their wallet. Early in the spring\nof 1213 a more extraordinary body of crusaders was raised in France and\nGermany. An immense number of boys and girls, amounting, according to\nsome accounts, to thirty thousand, were incited by the persuasion of\ntwo monks to undertake the journey to Palestine. They were, no doubt,\ncomposed of the idle and deserted children who generally swarm in great\ncities, nurtured in vice and daring, and ready for anything. The object\nof the monks seems to have been the atrocious one of inveigling them\ninto slave ships, on pretence of sending them to Syria, and selling\nthem for slaves on the coast of Africa. [See Jacob de Voragine and\nAlbericus.] Great numbers of these poor victims were shipped at\nMarseilles; but the vessels, with the exception of two or three, were\nwrecked on the shores of Italy, and every soul perished. The remainder\narrived safely in Africa, and were bought up as slaves, and sent off\ninto the interior of the country. Another detachment arrived at Genoa;\nbut the accomplices in this horrid plot having taken no measures at\nthat port, expecting them all at Marseilles, they were induced to\nreturn to their homes by the Genoese.\n\nFuller, in his quaint history of the \"Holy Warre,\" says that this\nCrusade was done by the instinct of the devil; and he adds a reason,\nwhich may provoke mirth now, but which was put forth by the worthy\nhistorian in all soberness and sincerity. He says, \"the devil, being\ncloyed with the murdering of men, desired a cordial of children's blood\nto comfort his weak stomach;\" as epicures, when tired of mutton, resort\nto lamb for a change.\n\nIt appears from other authors that the preaching of the vile monks had\nsuch an effect upon these deluded children that they ran about the\ncountry, exclaiming, \"O, Lord Jesus, restore thy cross to us!\" and that\nneither bolts nor bars, the fear of fathers, nor the love of mothers,\nwas sufficient to restrain them from journeying to Jerusalem.\n\nThe details of these strange proceedings are exceedingly meagre and\nconfused, and none of the contemporary writers who mention the subject\nhave thought it worth while to state the names of the monks who\noriginated the scheme, or the fate they met for their wickedness.  Two\nmerchants of Marseilles, who were to have shared in the profits, were,\nit is said, brought to justice for some other crime, and suffered\ndeath; but we are not informed whether they divulged any circumstances\nrelating to this matter.\n\nPope Innocent III does not seem to have been aware that the causes of\nthis juvenile Crusade were such as have been stated, for, upon being\ninformed that numbers of them had taken the Cross, and were marching to\nthe Holy Land, he exclaimed, \"These children are awake, while we\nsleep!\" He imagined, apparently, that the mind of Europe was still bent\non the recovery of Palestine, and that the zeal of these children\nimplied a sort of reproach upon his own lukewarmness. Very soon\nafterwards, he bestirred himself with more activity, and sent an\nencyclical letter to the clergy of Christendom, urging them to preach a\nnew Crusade. As usual, a number of adventurous nobles, who had nothing\nelse to do, enrolled themselves with their retainers. At a council of\nLateran, which was held while these bands were collecting, Innocent\nannounced that he himself would take the Cross, and lead the armies of\nChrist to the defence of his sepulchre. In all probability he would\nhave done so, for he was zealous enough; but death stepped in, and\ndestroyed his project ere it was ripe. His successor encouraged the\nCrusade, though he refused to accompany it; and the armament continued\nin France, England, and Germany. No leaders of any importance joined it\nfrom the former countries. Andrew, King of Hungary, was the only\nmonarch who had leisure or inclination to leave his dominions. The\nDukes of Austria and Bavaria joined him with a considerable army of\nGermans, and marching to Spalatro, took ship for Cyprus, and from\nthence to Acre.\n\nThe whole conduct of the King of Hungary was marked by pusillanimity\nand irresolution. He found himself in the Holy Land at the head of a\nvery efficient army; the Saracens were taken by surprise, and were for\nsome weeks unprepared to offer any resistance to his arms. He defeated\nthe first body sent to oppose him, and marched towards Mount Tabor,\nwith the intention of seizing upon an important fortress which the\nSaracens had recently constructed. He arrived without impediment at the\nMount, and might have easily taken it; but a sudden fit of cowardice\ncame over him, and he returned to Acre without striking a blow. He very\nsoon afterwards abandoned the enterprise altogether, and returned to\nhis own country.\n\nTardy reinforcements arrived at intervals from Europe; and the Duke of\nAustria, now the chief leader of the expedition, had still sufficient\nforces at his command to trouble the Saracens very seriously. It was\nresolved by him, in council with the other chiefs, that the whole\nenergy of the Crusade should be directed upon Egypt, the seat of the\nSaracen power in its relationship to Palestine, and from whence were\ndrawn the continual levies that were brought against them by the\nSultan. Damietta, which commanded the river Nile, and was one of the\nmost important cities of Egypt, was chosen as the first point of\nattack. The siege was forthwith commenced, and carried on with\nconsiderable energy, until the crusaders gained possession of a tower,\nwhich projected into the middle of the stream, and was looked upon as\nthe very key of the city.\n\nWhile congratulating themselves upon this success, and wasting in\nrevelry the time which should have been employed in pushing the\nadvantage, they received the news of the death of the wise Sultan\nSaphaddin. His two sons, Camhel and Cohreddin, divided his empire\nbetween them. Syria and Palestine fell to the share of Cohreddin, while\nEgypt was consigned to the other brother, who had for some time\nexercised the functions of Lieutenant of that country. Being unpopular\namong the Egyptians, they revolted against him, giving the crusaders a\nfiner opportunity for making a conquest than they had ever enjoyed\nbefore. But, quarrelsome and licentious as they had been from time\nimmemorial, they did not see that the favourable moment had come; or,\nseeing, could not profit by it. While they were revelling or fighting\namong themselves, under the walls of Damietta, the revolt was put down,\nand Camhel firmly established on the throne of Egypt. In conjunction\nwith his brother, Cohreddin, his next care was to drive the Christians\nfrom Damietta, and, for upwards of three months, they bent all their\nefforts to throw in supplies to the besieged, or draw on the besiegers\nto a general engagement. In neither were they successful; and the\nfamine in Damietta became so dreadful, that vermin of every description\nwere thought luxuries, and sold for exorbitant prices. A dead dog\nbecame more valuable than a live ox in time of prosperity. Unwholesome\nfood brought on disease, and the city could hold out no longer, for\nabsolute want of men to defend the walls.\n\nCohreddin and Camhel were alike interested in the preservation of so\nimportant a position, and, convinced of the certain fate of the city,\nthey opened a conference with the crusading chiefs, offering to yield\nthe whole of Palestine to the Christians, upon the sole condition of\nthe evacuation of Egypt. With a blindness and wrong-headedness almost\nincredible, these advantageous terms were refused, chiefly through the\npersuasion of Cardinal Pelagius, an ignorant and obstinate fanatic, who\nurged upon the Duke of Austria and the French and English leaders, that\ninfidels never kept their word; that their offers were deceptive, and\nmerely intended to betray. The conferences were brought to an abrupt\ntermination by the crusaders, and a last attack made upon the walls of\nDamietta. The besieged made but slight resistance, for they had no\nhope, and the Christians entered the city, and found, out of seventy\nthousand people, but three thousand remaining: so fearful had been the\nravages of the twin fiends, plague and famine.\n\nSeveral months were spent in Damietta. The climate either weakened the\nframes or obscured the understandings of the Christians; for, after\ntheir conquest, they lost all energy, and abandoned themselves more\nunscrupulously than ever to riot and debauchery. John of Brienne, who,\nby right of his wife, was the nominal sovereign of Jerusalem, was so\ndisgusted with the pusillanimity, arrogance, and dissensions of the\nchiefs, that he withdrew entirely from them, and retired to Acre.\nLarge bodies also returned to Europe, and Cardinal Pelagius was left at\nliberty to blast the whole enterprise whenever it pleased him. He\nmanaged to conciliate John of Brienne, and marched forward with these\ncombined forces to attack Cairo. It was only when he had approached\nwithin a few hours' march of that city, that he discovered the\ninadequacy of his army. He turned back immediately, but the Nile had\nrisen since his departure; the sluices were opened, and there was no\nmeans of reaching Damietta. In this strait, he sued for the peace he\nhad formerly spurned, and, happily for himself, found the generous\nbrothers, Camhel and Cohreddin, still willing to grant it. Damietta was\nsoon afterwards given up, and the Cardinal returned to Europe.  John of\nBrienne retired to Acre, to mourn the loss of his kingdom, embittered\nagainst the folly of his pretended friends, who had ruined where they\nshould have aided him. And thus ended the sixth Crusade.\n\nThe seventh was more successful. Frederic II, Emperor of Germany, had\noften vowed to lead his armies to the defence of Palestine, but was as\noften deterred from the journey by matters of more pressing importance.\nCohreddin was a mild and enlightened monarch, and the Christians of\nSyria enjoyed repose and toleration under his rule: but John of Brienne\nwas not willing to lose his kingdom without an effort; and the Popes in\nEurope were ever willing to embroil the nations for the sake of\nextending their own power. No monarch of that age was capable of\nrendering more effective assistance than Frederic of Germany. To\ninspire him with more zeal, it was proposed that he should wed the\nyoung Princess, Violante, daughter of John of Brienne, and heiress of\nthe kingdom of Jerusalem. Frederic consented with joy and eagerness.\nThe Princess was brought from Acre to Rome without delay, and her\nmarriage celebrated on a scale of great magnificence. Her father, John\nof Brienne, abdicated all his rights in favour of his son-in-law, and\nJerusalem had once more a king, who had not only the will, but the\npower, to enforce his claims. Preparations for the new crusade were\nimmediately commenced, and in the course of six months the Emperor was\nat the head of a well-disciplined army of sixty thousand men. Matthew\nParis informs us, that an army of the same amount was gathered in\nEngland; and most of the writers upon the Crusades adopt his statement.\nWhen John of Brienne was in England, before his daughter's marriage\nwith the Emperor was thought of, praying for the aid of Henry III. and\nhis nobles to recover his lost kingdom, he did not meet with much\nencouragement. Grafton, in his Chronicle, says, \"he departed again\nwithout any great comfort.\" But when a man of more influence in\nEuropean politics appeared upon the scene, the English nobles were as\nready to sacrifice themselves in the cause as they had been in the time\nof Coeur de Lion.\n\nThe army of Frederic encamped at Brundusium; but a pestilential disease\nhaving made its appearance among them, their departure was delayed for\nseveral months. In the mean time the Empress Violante died in\nchild-bed. John of Brienne, who had already repented of his abdication,\nand was besides incensed against Frederic for many acts of neglect and\ninsult, no sooner saw the only tie which bound them, severed by the\ndeath of his daughter, than he began to bestir himself, and make\ninterest with the Pope to undo what he had done, and regain the\nhonorary crown he had renounced. Pope Gregory the Ninth, a man of a\nproud, unconciliating, and revengeful character, owed the Emperor a\ngrudge for many an act of disobedience to his authority, and encouraged\nthe overtures of John of Brienne more than he should have done.\nFrederic, however, despised them both, and, as soon as his army was\nconvalescent, set sail for Acre. He had not been many days at sea, when\nhe was himself attacked with the malady, and obliged to return to\nOtranto, the nearest port. Gregory, who had by this time decided in the\ninterest of John of Brienne, excommunicated the Emperor for returning\nfrom so holy an expedition on any pretext whatever. Frederic at first\ntreated the excommunication with supreme contempt; but when he got\nwell, he gave his Holiness to understand that he was not to be outraged\nwith impunity, and sent some of his troops to ravage the Papal\nterritories. This, however, only made the matter worse, and Gregory\ndespatched messengers to Palestine, forbidding the faithful, under\nsevere pains and penalties, to hold any intercourse with the\nexcommunicated Emperor. Thus between them both, the scheme which they\nhad so much at heart bade fair to be as effectually ruined as even the\nSaracens could have wished. Frederic still continued his zeal in the\nCrusade, for he was now King of Jerusalem, and fought for himself, and\nnot for Christendom, or its representative, Pope Gregory. Hearing that\nJohn of Brienne was preparing to leave Europe, he lost no time in\ntaking his own departure, and arrived safely at Acre. It was here that\nhe first experienced the evil effects of excommunication. The\nChristians of Palestine refused to aid him in any way, and looked with\ndistrust, if not with abhorrence, upon him. The Templars, Hospitallers,\nand other knights, shared at first the general feeling; but they were\nnot men to yield a blind obedience to a distant potentate, especially\nwhen it compromised their own interests. When, therefore, Frederic\nprepared to march upon Jerusalem without them, they joined his banners\nto a man.\n\nIt is said, that previous to quitting Europe, the German Emperor had\ncommenced a negotiation with the Sultan Camhel for the restoration of\nthe Holy Land, and that Camhel, who was jealous of the ambition of his\nbrother Cohreddin, was willing to stipulate to that effect, on\ncondition of being secured by Frederic in the possession of the more\nimportant territory of Egypt. But before the crusaders reached\nPalestine, Camhel was relieved from all fears by the death of his\nbrother. He nevertheless did not think it worth while to contest with\nthe crusaders the barren corner of the earth which had already been\ndyed with so much Christian and Saracen blood, and proposed a truce of\nthree years, only stipulating, in addition, that the Moslems should be\nallowed to worship freely in the Temple of Jerusalem. This happy\ntermination did not satisfy the bigoted Christians of Palestine. The\ntolerance they fought for themselves, they were not willing to extend\nto others, and they complained bitterly of the privilege of free\nworship allowed to their opponents. Unmerited good fortune had made\nthem insolent, and they contested the right of the Emperor to become a\nparty to any treaty, as long as he remained under the ecclesiastical\nban. Frederic was disgusted with his new subjects; but, as the Templars\nand Hospitallers remained true to him, he marched to Jerusalem to be\ncrowned. All the churches were shut against him, and he could not even\nfind a priest to officiate at his coronation. He had despised the Papal\nauthority too long to quail at it now, when it was so unjustifiably\nexerted, and, as there was nobody to crown him, he very wisely crowned\nhimself. He took the royal diadem from the altar with his own hands,\nand boldly and proudly placed it on his brow. No shouts of an\napplauding populace made the welkin ring, no hymns of praise and\ntriumph resounded from the ministers of religion; but a thousand swords\nstarted from their scabbards, to testify that their owners would defend\nthe new monarch to the death.\n\nIt was hardly to be expected that he would renounce for any long period\nthe dominion of his native land for the uneasy crown and barren soil of\nPalestine. He had seen quite enough of his new subjects before he was\nsix months among them, and more important interests called him home.\nJohn of Brienne, openly leagued with Pope Gregory against him, was\nactually employed in ravaging his territories at the head of a papal\narmy. This intelligence decided his return. As a preliminary step, he\nmade those who had contemned his authority feel, to their sorrow, that\nhe was their master. He then set sail, loaded with the curses of\nPalestine. And thus ended the seventh Crusade, which, in spite of every\nobstacle and disadvantage, had been productive of more real service to\nthe Holy Land than any that had gone before; a result solely\nattributable to the bravery of Frederic and the generosity of the\nSultan Camhel.\n\nSoon after the Emperor's departure a new claimant started for the\nthrone of Jerusalem, in the person of Alice, Queen of Cyprus, and\nhalf-sister of the Mary who, by her marriage, had transferred her right\nto John of Brienne. The grand military orders, however, clung to\nFrederic, and Alice was obliged to withdraw.\n\nSo peaceful a termination to the Crusade did not give unmixed pleasure\nin Europe. The chivalry of France and England were unable to rest, and\nlong before the conclusion of the truce, were collecting their armies\nfor an eighth expedition. In Palestine, also, the contentment was far\nfrom universal. Many petty Mahomedan states in the immediate vicinity\nwere not parties to the truce, and harassed the frontier towns\nincessantly. The Templars, ever turbulent, waged bitter war with the\nSultan of Aleppo, and in the end were almost exterminated. So great was\nthe slaughter among them that Europe resounded with the sad story of\ntheir fate, and many a noble knight took arms to prevent the total\ndestruction of an order associated with so many high and inspiring\nremembrances. Camhel, seeing the preparations that were making, thought\nthat his generosity had been sufficiently shown, and the very day the\ntruce was at an end assumed the offensive, and marching forward to\nJerusalem took possession of it, after routing the scanty forces of the\nChristians. Before this intelligence reached Europe a large body of\ncrusaders was on the march, headed by the King of Navarre, the Duke of\nBurgundy, the Count de Bretagne, and other leaders. On their arrival,\nthey learned that Jerusalem had been taken, but that the Sultan was\ndead, and his kingdom torn by rival claimants to the supreme power. The\ndissensions of their foes ought to have made them united, but, as in\nall previous Crusades, each feudal chief was master of his own host,\nand acted upon his own responsibility, and without reference to any\ngeneral plan. The consequence was that nothing could be done. A\ntemporary advantage was gained by one leader, who had no means of\nimproving it, while another was defeated, without means of retrieving\nhimself. Thus the war lingered till the battle of Gaza, when the King\nof Navarre was defeated with great loss, and compelled to save himself\nfrom total destruction by entering into a hard and oppressive treaty\nwith the Emir of Karac.\n\nAt this crisis aid arrived from England, commanded by Richard Earl of\nCornwall, the namesake of Coeur de Lion, and inheritor of his valour.\nHis army was strong, and full of hope. They had confidence in\nthemselves and in their leader, and looked like men accustomed to\nvictory. Their coming changed the aspect of affairs. The new Sultan of\nEgypt was at war with the Sultan of Damascus, and had not forces to\noppose two enemies so powerful. He therefore sent messengers to meet\nthe English Earl, offering an exchange of prisoners and the complete\ncession of the Holy Land. Richard, who had not come to fight for the\nmere sake of fighting, agreed at once to terms so advantageous, and\nbecame the deliverer of Palestine without striking a blow. The Sultan\nof Egypt then turned his whole force against his Moslem enemies, and\nthe Earl of Cornwall returned to Europe. Thus ended the eighth Crusade,\nthe most beneficial of all. Christendom had no further pretence for\nsending her fierce levies to the East. To all appearance, the holy wars\nwere at an end: the Christians had entire possession of Jerusalem,\nTripoli, Antioch, Edessa, Acre, Jaffa, and, in fact, of nearly all\nJudea; and, could they have been at peace among themselves, they might\nhave overcome, without great difficulty, the jealousy and hostility of\ntheir neighhours. A circumstance, as unforeseen as it was disastrous,\nblasted this fair prospect, and reillumed, for the last time, the\nfervour and fury of the Crusades.\n\nGengis Khan and his successors had swept over Asia like a tropical\nstorm, overturning in their progress the landmarks of ages. Kingdom\nafter kingdom was cast down as they issued, innumerable, from the far\nrecesses of the North and East, and, among others, the empire of\nKorasmin was overrun by these all-conquering hordes. The Korasmins, a\nfierce, uncivilized race, thus driven from their homes, spread\nthemselves, in their turn, over the south of Asia with fire and sword,\nin search of a resting place. In their impetuous course they directed\nthemselves towards Egypt, whose Sultan, unable to withstand the swarm\nthat had cast their longing eyes on the fertile valleys of the Nile,\nendeavoured to turn them from their course. For this purpose, he sent\nemissaries to Barbaquan, their leader, inviting them to settle in\nPalestine; and the offer being accepted by the wild horde, they entered\nthe country before the Christians received the slightest intimation of\ntheir coming. It was as sudden as it was overwhelming.  Onwards, like\nthe simoom, they came, burning and slaying, and were at the walls of\nJerusalem before the inhabitants had time to look round them. They\nspared neither life nor property; they slew women and children, and\npriests at the altar, and profaned even the graves of those who had\nslept for ages. They tore down every vestige of the Christian faith,\nand committed horrors unparalleled in the history of warfare. About\nseven thousand of the inhabitants of Jerusalem sought safety in\nretreat; but before they were out of sight, the banner of the Cross was\nhoisted upon the walls by the savage foe to decoy them back. The\nartifice was but too successful. The poor fugitives imagined that help\nhad arrived from another direction, and turned back to regain their\nhomes. Nearly the whole of them were massacred, and the streets of\nJerusalem ran with blood.\n\nThe Templars, Hospitallers, and Teutonic knights forgot their long and\nbitter animosities, and joined hand in hand to rout out this desolating\nfoe. They intrenched themselves in Jaffa with all the chivalry of\nPalestine that yet remained, and endeavoured to engage the Sultans of\nEmissa and Damascus to assist them against the common enemy. The aid\nobtained from the Moslems amounted at first to only four thousand men,\nbut with these reinforcements Walter of Brienne, the Lord of Jaffa,\nresolved to give battle to the Korasrains. The conflict was as deadly\nas despair on the one side, and unmitigated ferocity on the other,\ncould make it. It lasted with varying fortune for two days, when the\nSultan of Emissa fled to his fortifications, and Walter of Brienne fell\ninto the enemy's hands. The brave knight was suspended by the arms to a\ncross in sight of the walls of Jaffa, and the Korasminian leader\ndeclared that he should remain in that position until the city\nsurrendered. Walter raised his feeble voice, not to advise surrender,\nbut to command his soldiers to hold out to the last. But his gallantry\nwas unavailing. So great had been the slaughter, that out of the grand\narray of knights, there now remained but sixteen Hospitallers,\nthirty-three Templars, and three Teutonic cavaliers. These with the sad\nremnant of the army fled to Acre, and the Korasmins were masters of\nPalestine.\n\nThe Sultans of Syria preferred the Christians to this fierce horde for\ntheir neighbours. Even the Sultan of Egypt began to regret the aid he\nhad given to such barbarous foes, and united with those of Emissa and\nDamascus to root them from the land. The Korasmins amounted to but\ntwenty thousand men, and were unable to resist the determined hostility\nwhich encompassed them on every side. The Sultans defeated them in\nseveral engagements, and the peasantry rose up in masses to take\nvengeance upon them. Gradually their numbers were diminished. No mercy\nwas shown them in defeat. Barbaquan, their leader, was slain, and after\nfive years of desperate struggles they were finally extirpated, and\nPalestine became once more the territory of the Mussulmans.\n\nA short time previous to this devastating irruption, Louis IX.  fell\nsick in Paris, and dreamed in the delirium of his fever that he saw the\nChristian and Moslem hosts fighting before Jerusalem, and the\nChristians defeated with great slaughter. The dream made a great\nimpression on his superstitious mind, and he made a solemn vow that if\never he recovered his health, he would take a pilgrimage to the Holy\nLand. When the news of the misfortunes of Palestine, and the awful\nmassacres at Jerusalem and Jaffa, arrived in Europe, St. Louis\nremembered him of his dream. More persuaded than ever, that it was an\nintimation direct from Heaven, he prepared to take the Cross at the\nhead of his armies, and march to the deliverance of the Holy Sepulchre.\nFrom that moment he doffed the royal mantle of purple and ermine, and\ndressed in the sober serge becoming a pilgrim. All his thoughts were\ndirected to the fulfilment of his design, and although his kingdom\ncould but ill spare him, he made every preparation to leave it. Pope\nInnocent IV. applauded his zeal and afforded him every assistance. He\nwrote to Henry III. of England to forward the cause in his dominions,\nand called upon the clergy and laity all over Europe to contribute\ntowards it. William Longsword, the celebrated Earl of Salisbury, took\nthe Cross at the head of a great number of valiant knights and\nsoldiers. But the fanaticism of the people was not to be awakened\neither in France or England. Great armies were raised, but the masses\nno longer sympathized. Taxation had been the great cooler of zeal. It\nwas no longer a disgrace even to a knight if he refused to take the\nCross. Rutebeuf, a French minstrel, who flourished about this time\n(1250), composed a dialogue between a crusader and a non-crusader,\nwhich the reader will find translated in \"Way's Fabliaux.\" The crusader\nuses every argument to persuade the non-crusader to take up arms, and\nforsake every thing, in the holy cause; but it is evident from the\ngreater force of the arguments used by the noncrusader, that he was the\nfavourite of the minstrel. To a most urgent solicitation of his friend,\nthe crusader, he replies,\n\n  \"I read thee right, thou boldest good\n    To this same land I straight should hie,\n  And win it back with mickle blood,\n    Nor gaine one foot of soil thereby.\n  While here dejected and forlorn,\n  My wife and babes are left to mourn;\n  My goodly mansion rudely marred,\n  All trusted to my dogs to guard.\n  But I, fair comrade, well I wot\n    An ancient saw, of pregnant wit,\n  Doth bid us keep what we have got,\n    And troth I mean to follow it.\"\n\nThis being the general feeling, it is not to be wondered at that Louis\nIX. was occupied fully three years in organizing his forces, and in\nmaking the necessary preparations for his departure. When all was ready\nhe set sail for Cyprus, accompanied by his Queen, his two brothers, the\nCounts d'Anjou and d'Artois, and a long train of the noblest chivalry\nof France. His third brother, the Count de Poitiers, remained behind to\ncollect another corps of crusaders, and followed him in a few months\nafterwards. The army united at Cyprus, and amounted to fifty thousand\nmen, exclusive of the English crusaders under William Longsword. Again,\na pestilential disease made its appearance, to which many hundreds fell\nvictims. It was in consequence found necessary to remain in Cyprus\nuntil the spring. Louis then embarked for Egypt with his whole host;\nbut a violent tempest separated his fleet, and he arrived before\nDamietta with only a few thousand men. They were, however, impetuous\nand full of hope; and although the Sultan Melick Shah was drawn up on\nthe shore with a force infinitely superior, it was resolved to attempt\na landing without waiting the arrival of the rest of the army. Louis\nhimself in wild impatience sprang from his boat, and waded on shore;\nwhile his army, inspired by his enthusiastic bravery, followed,\nshouting the old war-cry of the first crusaders, Dieu le veut! Dieu le\nveut! A panic seized the Turks. A body of their cavalry attempted to\nbear down upon the crusaders, but the knights fixed their large shields\ndeep in the sands of the shore, and rested their lances upon them, so\nthat they projected above, and formed a barrier so imposing, that the\nTurks, afraid to breast it, turned round and fairly took to flight. At\nthe moment of this panic, a false report was spread in the Saracen\nhost, that the Sultan had been slain. The confusion immediately became\ngeneral--the deroute was complete: Damietta itself was abandoned, and\nthe same night the victorious crusaders fixed their headquarters in\nthat city. The soldiers who had been separated from their chief by the\ntempest, arrived shortly afterwards; and Louis was in a position to\njustify the hope, not only of the conquest of Palestine, but of Egypt\nitself.\n\nBut too much confidence proved the bane of his army. They thought, as\nthey had accomplished so much, that nothing more remained to be done,\nand gave themselves up to ease and luxury. When, by the command of\nLouis, they marched towards Cairo, they were no longer the same men;\nsuccess, instead of inspiring, had unnerved them; debauchery had\nbrought on disease, and disease was aggravated by the heat of a climate\nto which none of them were accustomed. Their progress towards Massoura,\non the road to Cairo, was checked by the Thanisian canal, on the banks\nof which the Saracens were drawn up to dispute the passage.  Louis gave\norders that a bridge should be thrown across; and the operations\ncommenced under cover of two cat-castles, or high moveable towers. The\nSaracens soon destroyed them by throwing quantities of Greek fire, the\nartillery of that day, upon them, and Louis was forced to think of some\nother means of effecting his design. A peasant agreed, for a\nconsiderable bribe, to point out a ford where the army might wade\nacross, and the Count d'Artois was despatched with fourteen hundred men\nto attempt it, while Louis remained to face the Saracens with the main\nbody of the army. The Count d'Artois got safely over, and defeated the\ndetachment that had been sent to oppose his landing.  Flushed with the\nvictory, the brave Count forgot the inferiority of his numbers, and\npursued the panic-stricken enemy into Massoura. He was now completely\ncut off from the aid of his brother-crusaders, which the Moslems\nperceiving, took courage and returned upon him, with a force swollen by\nthe garrison of Massoura, and by reinforcements from the surrounding\ndistricts. The battle now became hand to hand.  The Christians fought\nwith the energy of desperate men, but the continually increasing\nnumbers of the foe surrounded them completely, and cut off all hope,\neither of victory or escape. The Count d'Artois was among the foremost\nof the slain, and when Louis arrived to the rescue, the brave\nadvance-guard was nearly cut to pieces. Of the fourteen hundred but\nthree hundred remained. The fury of the battle was now increased\nthreefold. The French King and his troops performed prodigies of\nvalour, and the Saracens, under the command of the Emir Ceccidun,\nfought as if they were determined to exterminate, in one last decisive\neffort, the new European swarm that had settled upon their coast. At\nthe fall of the evening dews the Christians were masters of the field\nof Massoura, and flattered themselves that they were the victors.\nSelf-love would not suffer them to confess that the Saracens had\nwithdrawn, and not retreated; but their leaders were too wofully\nconvinced that that fatal field had completed the disorganization of\nthe Christian army, and that all hopes of future conquest were at an\nend.\n\nImpressed with this truth, the crusaders sued for peace. The Sultan\ninsisted upon the immediate evacuation of Damietta, and that Louis\nhimself should be delivered as hostage for the fulfilment of the\ncondition. His army at once refused, and the negotiations were broken\noff. It was now resolved to attempt a retreat; but the agile Saracens,\nnow in the front and now in the rear, rendered it a matter of extreme\ndifficulty, and cut off the stragglers in great numbers. Hundreds of\nthem were drowned in the Nile; and sickness and famine worked sad\nravage upon those who escaped all other casualties. Louis himself was\nso weakened by disease, fatigue, and discouragement that he was hardly\nable to sit upon his horse. In the confusion of the flight he was\nseparated from his attendants, and left a total stranger upon the sands\nof Egypt, sick, weary, and almost friendless. One knight, Geffry de\nSergines, alone attended him, and led him to a miserable hut in a small\nvillage, where for several days he lay in the hourly expectation of\ndeath. He was at last discovered and taken prisoner by the Saracens,\nwho treated him with all the honour due to his rank and all the pity\ndue to his misfortunes. Under their care his health rapidly improved,\nand the next consideration was that of his ransom.\n\nThe Saracens demanded, besides money, the cession of Acre, Tripoli, and\nother cities of Palestine. Louis unhesitatingly refused, and conducted\nhimself with so much pride and courage that the Sultan declared he was\nthe proudest infidel he had ever beheld. After a good deal of haggling,\nthe Sultan agreed to waive these conditions, and a treaty was finally\nconcluded. The city of Damietta was restored; a truce of ten years\nagreed upon, and ten thousand golden bezants paid for the release of\nLouis and the liberation of all the captives. Louis then withdrew to\nJaffa, and spent two years in putting that city, and Cesarea, with the\nother possessions of the Christians in Palestine, into a proper state\nof defence. He then returned to his own country, with great reputation\nas a saint, but very little as a soldier.\n\nMatthew Paris informs us that, in the year 1250, while Louis was in\nEgypt, \"thousands of the English were resolved to go to the holy war,\nhad not the King strictly guarded his ports and kept his people from\nrunning out of doors.\" When the news arrived of the reverses and\ncaptivity of the French King, their ardour cooled; and the Crusade was\nsung of only, but not spoken of.\n\nIn France, a very different feeling was the result. The news of the\nKing's capture spread consternation through the country. A fanatic monk\nof Citeaux suddenly appeared in the villages, preaching to the people,\nand announcing that the Holy Virgin, accompanied by a whole army of\nsaints and martyrs, had appeared to him, and commanded him to stir up\nthe shepherds and farm labourers to the defence of the Cross.  To them\nonly was his discourse addressed, and his eloquence was such that\nthousands flocked around him, ready to follow wherever he should lead.\nThe pastures and the corn-fields were deserted, and the shepherds, or\npastoureaux, as they were termed, became at last so numerous as to\namount to upwards of fifty thousand,--Millot says one hundred thousand\nmen. [Elemens de l'Histoire de France.] The Queen Blanche, who governed\nas Regent during the absence of the King, encouraged at first the\narmies of the pastoureaux; but they soon gave way to such vile excesses\nthat the peaceably disposed were driven to resistance. Robbery, murder,\nand violation marked their path; and all good men, assisted by the\ngovernment, united in putting them down.  They were finally dispersed,\nbut not before three thousand of them had been massacred. Many authors\nsay that the slaughter was still greater.\n\nThe ten years' truce concluded in 1264, and St. Louis was urged by two\npowerful motives to undertake a second expedition for the relief of\nPalestine. These were fanaticism on the one hand, and a desire of\nretrieving his military fame on the other, which had suffered more than\nhis parasites liked to remind him of. The Pope, of course, encouraged\nhis design, and once more the chivalry of Europe began to bestir\nthemselves. In 1268, Edward, the heir of the English monarchy,\nannounced his determination to join the Crusade; and the Pope (Clement\nIV.) wrote to the prelates and clergy to aid the cause by their\npersuasions and their revenues. In England, they agreed to contribute a\ntenth of their possessions; and by a parliamentary order, a twentieth\nwas taken from the corn and moveables of all the laity at Michaelmas.\n\nIn spite of the remonstrances of the few clearheaded statesmen who\nsurrounded him, urging the ruin that might in consequence fall upon his\nthen prosperous kingdom, Louis made every preparation for his\ndeparture. The warlike nobility were nothing loth, and in the spring of\n1270, the King set sail with an army of sixty thousand men. He was\ndriven by stress of weather into Sardinia, and while there, a change in\nhis plans took place. Instead of proceeding to Acre, as he originally\nintended, he shaped his course for Tunis, on the African coast. The\nKing of Tunis had some time previously expressed himself favourably\ndisposed towards the Christians and their religion, and Louis, it\nappears, had hopes of converting him, and securing his aid against the\nSultan of Egypt. \"What honour would be mine,\" he used to say, \"if I\ncould become godfather to this Mussulman King.\" Filled with this idea\nhe landed in Africa, near the site of the city of Carthage, but found\nthat he had reckoned without his host. The King of Tunis had no\nthoughts of renouncing his religion, nor intention of aiding the\nCrusaders in any way. On the contrary, he opposed their landing with\nall the forces that could be collected on so sudden an emergency. The\nFrench, however, made good their first position, and defeated the\nMoslems with considerable loss. They also gained some advantage over\nthe reinforcements that were sent to oppose them; but an infectious\nflux appeared in the army, and put a stop to all future victories. The\nsoldiers died at the rate of a hundred in a day. The enemy, at the same\ntime, made as great havoc as the plague. St. Louis himself was one of\nthe first attacked by the disease. His constitution had been weakened\nby fatigues, and even before he left France he was unable to bear the\nfull weight of his armour. It was soon evident to his sorrowing\nsoldiers that their beloved monarch could not long survive.  He\nlingered for some days, and died in Carthage, in the fifty-sixth year\nof his age, deeply regretted by his army and his subjects, and leaving\nbehind him one of the most singular reputations in history. He is the\nmodel-king of ecclesiastical writers, in whose eyes his very defects\nbecame virtues, because they were manifested in furtherance of their\ncause. More unprejudiced historians, while they condemn his fanaticism,\nadmit that he was endowed with many high and rare qualities; that he\nwas in no one point behind his age, and, in many, in advance of it.\n\nHis brother, Charles of Anjou, in consequence of a revolution in\nSicily, had become King of that country. Before he heard of the death\nof Louis, he had sailed from Messina with large reinforcements. On his\nlanding near Carthage, he advanced at the head of his army, amid the\nmartial music of drums and trumpets. He was soon informed how\ninopportune was his rejoicing, and shed tears before his whole army,\nsuch as no warrior would have been ashamed to shed. A peace was\nspeedily agreed upon with the King of Tunis, and the armies of France\nand Sicily returned to their homes.\n\nSo little favour had the Crusade found in England, that even the\nexertions of the heir to the throne had only collected a small force of\nfifteen hundred men. With these few Prince Edward sailed from Dover to\nBourdeaux, in the expectation that he would find the French King in\nthat city. St. Louis, however, had left a few weeks previously; upon\nwhich Edward followed him to Sardinia, and afterwards to Tunis. Before\nhis arrival in Africa, St. Louis was no more, and peace had been\nconcluded between France and Tunis. He determined, however, not to\nrelinquish the Crusade. Returning to Sicily, he passed the winter in\nthat country, and endeavoured to augment his little army. In the spring\nhe set sail for Palestine, and arrived in safety at Acre. The\nChristians were torn, as usual, by mutual jealousies and animosities.\nThe two great military orders were as virulent and as intractable as\never; opposed to each other, and to all the world. The arrival of\nEdward had the effect of causing them to lay aside their unworthy\ncontention, and of uniting heart to heart, in one last effort for the\ndeliverance of their adopted country. A force of six thousand effective\nwarriors was soon formed to join those of the English prince, and\npreparations were made for the renewal of hostilities. The Sultan,\nBibars or Bendocdar, [Mills, in his history, gives the name of this\nchief as \"Al Malek al Dhaker Rokneddin Abulfeth Bibars al Ali al\nBundokdari al Salehi.\"] a fierce Mamluke, who had been placed on the\nthrone by a bloody revolution, was at war with all his neighbours, and\nunable, for that reason, to concentrate his whole strength against\nthem. Edward took advantage of this; and marching boldly forward to\nNazareth, defeated the Turks and gained possession of that city. This\nwas the whole amount of his successes. The hot weather engendered\ndisease among his troops, and he himself, the life and soul of the\nexpedition, fell sick among the first. He had been ill for some time,\nand was slowly recovering, when a messenger desired to speak with him\non important matters, and to deliver some despatches into his own hand.\nWhile the Prince was occupied in examining them, the traitorous\nmessenger drew a dagger from his belt, and stabbed him in the breast.\nThe wound fortunately was not deep, and Edward had gained a portion of\nhis strength. He struggled with the assassin, and put him to death with\nhis own dagger, at the same time calling loudly for assistance.  [The\nreader will recognise the incident which Sir Walter Scott has\nintroduced into his beautiful romance, \"The Talisman,\" and which, with\nthe licence claimed by poets and romancers, he represents as having\nbefallen King Richard I.] His attendants came at his call, and found\nhim bleeding profusely, and ascertained on inspection that the dagger\nwas poisoned. Means were instantly taken to purify the wound; and an\nantidote was sent by the Grand Master of the Templars which removed all\ndanger from the effects of the poison. Camden, in his history, has\nadopted the more popular, and certainly more beautiful, version of this\nstory, which says that the Princess Eleonora, in her love for her\ngallant husband, sucked the poison from his wound at the risk of her\nown life: to use the words of old Fuller, \"It is a pity so pretty a\nstory should not be true; and that so sovereign a remedy as a woman's\ntongue, anointed with the virtue of loving affection,\" should not have\nperformed the good deed.\n\nEdward suspected, and doubtless not without reason, that the assassin\nwas employed by the Sultan of Egypt. But it amounted to suspicion only;\nand by the sudden death of the assassin, the principal clue to the\ndiscovery of the truth was lost for ever. Edward, on his recovery,\nprepared to resume the offensive; but the Sultan, embarrassed by the\ndefence of interests which, for the time being, he considered of more\nimportance, made offers of peace to the crusaders.  This proof of\nweakness on the part of the enemy was calculated to render a man of\nEdward's temperament more anxious to prosecute the war; but he had also\nother interests to defend. News arrived in Palestine of the death of\nhis father, King Henry III; and his presence being necessary in\nEngland, he agreed to the terms of the Sultan.  These were, that the\nChristians should be allowed to retain their possessions in the Holy\nLand, and that a truce of ten years should be proclaimed. Edward then\nset sail for England; and thus ended the last Crusade.\n\nThe after-fate of the Holy Land may be told in a few words. The\nChristians, unmindful of their past sufferings and of the jealous\nneighbours they had to deal with, first broke the truce by plundering\nsome Egyptian traders near Margat. The Sultan immediately revenged the\noutrage by taking possession of Margat, and war once more raged between\nthe nations. Margat made a gallant defence, but no reinforcements\narrived from Europe to prevent its fall. Tripoli was the next, and\nother cities in succession, until at last Acre was the only city of\nPalestine that remained in possession of the Christians.\n\nThe Grand Master of the Templars collected together his small and\ndevoted band; and with the trifling aid afforded by the King of Cyprus,\nprepared to defend to the death the last possession of his order.\nEurope was deaf to his cry for aid, the numbers of the foe were\noverwhelming, and devoted bravery was of no avail. In that disastrous\nsiege the Christians were all but exterminated. The King of Cyprus fled\nwhen he saw that resistance was vain, and the Grand Master fell at the\nhead of his knights, pierced with a hundred wounds. Seven Templars, and\nas many Hospitallets, alone escaped from the dreadful carnage. The\nvictorious Moslems then set fire to the city, and the rule of the\nChristians in Palestine was brought to a close for ever.\n\nThis intelligence spread alarm and sorrow among the clergy of Europe,\nwho endeavoured to rouse once more the energy and enthusiasm of the\nnations, in the cause of the Holy Land: but the popular mania had run\nits career; the spark of zeal had burned its appointed time, and was\nnever again to be re-illumined. Here and there a solitary knight\nannounced his determination to take up arms, and now and then a king\ngave cold encouragement to the scheme; but it dropped almost as soon as\nspoken of, to be renewed again, still more feebly, at some longer\ninterval.\n\nNow what was the grand result of all these struggles? Europe expended\nmillions of her treasures, and the blood of two millions of her\nchildren; and a handful of quarrelsome knights retained possession of\nPalestine for about one hundred years! Even had Christendom retained it\nto this day, the advantage, if confined to that, would have been too\ndearly purchased. But notwithstanding the fanaticism that originated,\nand the folly that conducted them, the Crusades were not productive of\nunmitigated evil. The feudal chiefs became better members of society,\nby coming in contact, in Asia, with a civilization superior to their\nown; the people secured some small instalments of their rights; kings,\nno longer at war with their nobility, had time to pass some good laws;\nthe human mind learned some little wisdom from hard experience, and,\ncasting off the slough of superstition in which the Roman clergy had so\nlong enveloped it, became prepared to receive the seeds of the\napproaching Reformation. Thus did the all-wise Disposer of events bring\ngood out of evil, and advance the civilization and ultimate happiness\nof the nations of the West, by means of the very fanaticism that had\nled them against the East. But the whole subject is one of absorbing\ninterest; and if carried fully out in all its bearings, would consume\nmore space than the plan of this work will allow. The philosophic\nstudent will draw his own conclusions; and he can have no better field\nfor the exercise of his powers than this European madness; its\nadvantages and disadvantages; its causes and results.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WITCH MANIA.\n\n  What wrath of gods, or wicked influence\n  Of tears, conspiring wretched men t' afflict,\n  Hath pour'd on earth this noyous pestilence,\n  That mortal minds doth inwardly infect\n  With love of blindness and of ignorance?\n\n  Spencer's Tears of the Muses.\n\n\n  Countrymen: \"Hang her!--beat her!--kill her!\"\n  Justice: \"How now? Forbear this violence!\"\n  Mother Sawyer: \"A crew of villains--a knot of bloody hangmen!\n                 set to torment me!--I know not why.\"\n  Justice: \"Alas! neighbour Banks, are you a ringleader in mischief?\n            Fie I to abuse an aged woman!\"\n  Banks: \"Woman!--a she hell-cat, a witch! To prove her one, we no\n         sooner set fire on the thatch of her house, but in she came\n         running, as if the Devil had sent her in a barrel of\n         gunpowder.\"\n\n  Ford's Witch of Edmonton.\n\n\nThe belief that disembodied spirits may be permitted to revisit this\nworld, has its foundation upon that sublime hope of immortality, which\nis at once the chief solace and greatest triumph of our reason.  Even\nif revelation did not teach us, we feel that we have that within us\nwhich shall never die; and all our experience of this life but makes us\ncling the more fondly to that one repaying hope. But in the early days\nof \"little knowledge,\" this grand belief became the source of a whole\ntrain of superstitions, which, in their turn, became the fount from\nwhence flowed a deluge of blood and horror. Europe, for a period of two\ncenturies and a half, brooded upon the idea, not only that parted\nspirits walked the earth to meddle in the affairs of men, but that men\nhad power to summon evil spirits to their aid to work woe upon their\nfellows. An epidemic terror seized upon the nations; no man thought\nhimself secure, either in his person or possessions, from the\nmachinations of the devil and his agents. Every calamity that befell\nhim, he attributed to a witch. If a storm arose and blew down his barn,\nit was witchcraft; if his cattle died of a murrain-if disease fastened\nupon his limbs, or death entered suddenly, and snatched a beloved face\nfrom his hearth--they were not visitations of Providence, but the works\nof some neighbouring hag, whose wretchedness or insanity caused the\nignorant to raise their finger, and point at her as a witch. The word\nwas upon everybody's tongue--France, Italy, Germany, England, Scotland,\nand the far North, successively ran mad upon this subject, and for a\nlong series of years, furnished their tribunals with so many trials for\nwitchcraft that other crimes were seldom or never spoken of. Thousands\nupon thousands of unhappy persons fell victims to this cruel and absurd\ndelusion. In many cities of Germany, as will be shown more fully in its\ndue place hereafter, the average number of executions for this\npretended crime, was six hundred annually, or two every day, if we\nleave out the Sundays, when, it is to be supposed, that even this\nmadness refrained from its work.\n\nA misunderstanding of the famous text of the Mosaic law, \"Thou shalt\nnot suffer a witch to live,\" no doubt led many conscientious men\nastray, whose superstition, warm enough before, wanted but a little\ncorroboration to blaze out with desolating fury. In all ages of the\nworld men have tried to hold converse with superior beings; and to\npierce, by their means, the secrets of futurity. In the time of Moses,\nit is evident that there were impostors, who trafficked upon the\ncredulity of mankind, and insulted the supreme majesty of the true God\nby pretending to the power of divination. Hence the law which Moses, by\nDivine command, promulgated against these criminals; but it did not\nfollow, as the superstitious monomaniacs of the middle ages imagined,\nthat the Bible established the existence of the power of divination by\nits edicts against those who pretended to it. From the best\nauthorities, it appears that the Hebrew word, which has been rendered,\nvenefica, and witch, means a poisoner and divineress--a dabbler in\nspells, or fortune-teller. The modern witch was a very different\ncharacter, and joined to her pretended power of foretelling future\nevents that of working evil upon the life, limbs, and possessions of\nmankind. This power was only to be acquired by an express compact,\nsigned in blood, with the devil himself, by which the wizard or witch\nrenounced baptism, and sold his or her immortal soul to the evil one,\nwithout any saving clause of redemption.\n\nThere are so many wondrous appearances in nature, for which science and\nphilosophy cannot, even now, account, that it is not surprising that,\nwhen natural laws were still less understood, men should have\nattributed to supernatural agency every appearance which they could not\notherwise explain. The merest tyro now understands various phenomena\nwhich the wisest of old could not fathom. The schoolboy knows why, upon\nhigh mountains, there should, on certain occasions, appear three or\nfour suns in the firmament at once; and why the figure of a traveller\nupon one eminence should be reproduced, inverted, and of a gigantic\nstature, upon another. We all know the strange pranks which imagination\ncan play in certain diseases--that the hypochondriac can see visions\nand spectres, and that there have been cases in which men were\nperfectly persuaded that they were teapots. Science has lifted up the\nveil, and rolled away all the fantastic horrors in which our\nforefathers shrouded these and similar cases. The man who now imagines\nhimself a wolf, is sent to the hospital, instead of to the stake, as in\nthe days of the witch mania; and earth, air, and sea are unpeopled of\nthe grotesque spirits that were once believed to haunt them.\n\nBefore entering further into the history of Witchcraft, it may be as\nwell if we consider the absurd impersonation of the evil principle\nformed by the monks in their legends. We must make acquaintance with\nthe primum mobile, and understand what sort of a personage it was, who\ngave the witches, in exchange for their souls, the power to torment\ntheir fellow-creatures. The popular notion of the devil was, that he\nwas a large, ill-formed, hairy sprite, with horns, a long tail, cloven\nfeet, and dragon's wings. In this shape he was constantly brought on\nthe stage by the monks in their early \"miracles\" and \"mysteries.\" In\nthese representations he was an important personage, and answered the\npurpose of the clown in the modern pantomime. The great fun for the\npeople was to see him well belaboured by the saints with clubs or\ncudgels, and to hear him howl with pain as he limped off, maimed by the\nblow of some vigorous anchorite. St. Dunstan generally served him the\nglorious trick for which he is renowned--catching hold of his nose with\na pair of red-hot pincers, till\n\n  \"Rocks and distant dells resounded with his cries.\"\n\nSome of the saints spat in his face, to his very great annoyance; and\nothers chopped pieces off his tail, which, however, always grew on\nagain. This was paying him in his own coin, and amused the populace\nmightily; for they all remembered the scurvy tricks he had played them\nand their forefathers. It was believed that he endeavoured to trip\npeople up, by laying his long invisible tail in their way, and giving\nit a sudden whisk when their legs were over it;--that he used to get\ndrunk, and swear like a trooper, and be so mischievous in his cups as\nto raise tempests and earthquakes, to destroy the fruits of the earth\nand the barns and homesteads of true believers;--that he used to run\ninvisible spits into people by way of amusing himself in the long\nwinter evenings, and to proceed to taverns and regale himself with the\nbest, offering in payment pieces of gold which, on the dawn of the\nfollowing morning, invariably turned into slates. Sometimes, disguised\nas a large drake, he used to lurk among the bulrushes, and frighten the\nweary traveller out of his wits by his awful quack. The reader will\nremember the lines of Burns in his address to the \"De'il,\" which so\nwell express the popular notion on this point--\n\n  \"Ae dreary, windy, winter night,\n  The stars shot down wi' sklentin light,\n  Wi' you, mysel, I got a fright\n         Ayont the lough;\n  Ye, like a rash-bush, stood in sight\n         Wi' waving sough.\n\n  \"The cudgel in my nieve did shake,\n  Each bristled hair stood like a stake,\n  When wi' an eldritch stour, 'quaick! quaick!'\n         Among the springs\n  Awa ye squatter'd, like a drake,\n         On whistling wings.\"\n\nIn all the stories circulated and believed about him, he was\nrepresented as an ugly, petty, mischievous spirit, who rejoiced in\nplaying off all manner of fantastic tricks upon poor humanity. Milton\nseems to have been the first who succeeded in giving any but a\nludicrous description of him. The sublime pride which is the\nquintessence of evil, was unconceived before his time. All other\nlimners made him merely grotesque, but Milton made him awful. In this\nthe monks showed themselves but miserable romancers; for their object\nundoubtedly was to represent the fiend as terrible as possible: but\nthere was nothing grand about their Satan; on the contrary, he was a\nlow mean devil, whom it was easy to circumvent and fine fun to play\ntricks with. But, as is well and eloquently remarked by a modern\nwriter, [See article on Demonology, in the sixth volume of the \"Foreign\nQuarterly Review.\"] the subject has also its serious side.  An Indian\ndeity, with its wild distorted shape and grotesque attitude, appears\nmerely ridiculous when separated from its accessories and viewed by\ndaylight in a museum; but restore it to the darkness of its own hideous\ntemple, bring back to our recollection the victims that have bled upon\nits altar, or been crushed beneath its ear, and our sense of the\nridiculous subsides into aversion and horror. So, while the\nsuperstitious dreams of former times are regarded as mere speculative\ninsanities, we may be for a moment amused with the wild incoherences of\nthe patients; but, when we reflect, that out of these hideous\nmisconceptions of the principle of evil arose the belief in\nwitchcraft--that this was no dead faith, but one operating on the whole\nbeing of society, urging on the wisest and the mildest to deeds of\nmurder, or cruelties scarcely less than murder--that the learned and\nthe beautiful, young and old, male and female, were devoted by its\ninfluence to the stake and the scaffold--every feeling disappears,\nexcept that of astonishment that such things could be, and humiliation\nat the thought that the delusion was as lasting as it was universal.\n\nBesides this chief personage, there was an infinite number of inferior\ndemons, who played conspicuous parts in the creed of witchcraft. The\npages of Bekker, Leloyer, Bodin, Delrio, and De Lancre abound with\ndescriptions of the qualities of these imps and the functions which\nwere assigned them. From these authors, three of whom were\ncommissioners for the trial of witches, and who wrote from the\nconfessions made by the supposed criminals and the evidence delivered\nagainst them, and from the more recent work of M. Jules Garinet, the\nfollowing summary of the creed has been, with great pains, extracted.\nThe student who is desirous of knowing more, is referred to the works\nin question; he will find enough in every leaf to make his blood curdle\nwith shame and horror: but the purity of these pages shall not be\nsoiled by anything so ineffably humiliating and disgusting as a\ncomplete exposition of them; what is here culled will be a sufficient\nsample of the popular belief, and the reader would but lose time who\nshould seek in the writings of the Demonologists for more ample\ndetails. He will gain nothing by lifting the veil which covers their\nunutterable obscenities, unless, like Sterne, he wishes to gather fresh\nevidence of \"what a beast man is.\" In that case, he will find plenty\nthere to convince him that the beast would be libelled by the\ncomparison.\n\nIt was thought that the earth swarmed with millions of demons of both\nsexes, many of whom, like the human race, traced their lineage up to\nAdam, who, after the fall, was led astray by devils, assuming the forms\nof beautiful women to deceive him. These demons \"increased and\nmultiplied,\" among themselves, with the most extraordinary rapidity.\nTheir bodies were of the thin air, and they could pass though the\nhardest substances with the greatest ease. They had no fixed residence\nor abiding place, but were tossed to and fro in the immensity of space.\nWhen thrown together in great multitudes, they excited whirlwinds in\nthe air and tempests in the waters, and took delight in destroying the\nbeauty of nature and the monuments of the industry of man. Although\nthey increased among themselves like ordinary creatures, their numbers\nwere daily augmented by the souls of wicked men--of children\nstill-born--of women who died in childbed, and of persons killed in\nduels. The whole air was supposed to be full of them, and many\nunfortunate men and women drew them by thousands into their mouths and\nnostrils at every inspiration; and the demons, lodging in their bowels\nor other parts of their bodies, tormented them with pains and diseases\nof every kind, and sent them frightful dreams. St.  Gregory of Nice\nrelates a story of a nun who forgot to say her benedicite, and make the\nsign of the cross, before she sat down to supper, and who, in\nconsequence, swallowed a demon concealed among the leaves of a lettuce.\nMost persons said the number of these demons was so great that they\ncould not be counted, but Wierus asserted that they amounted to no more\nthan seven millions, four hundred and five thousand, nine hundred, and\ntwenty-six; and that they were divided into seventy-two companies or\nbattalions, to each of which there was a prince or captain. They could\nassume any shape they pleased. When they were male, they were called\nincubi; and when female, succubi. They sometimes made themselves\nhideous; and at other times, they assumed shapes of such transcendant\nloveliness, that mortal eyes never saw beauty to compete with theirs.\n\nAlthough the devil and his legions could appear to mankind at any time,\nit was generally understood that he preferred the night between Friday\nand Saturday. If Satan himself appeared in human shape, he was never\nperfectly, and in all respects, like a man. He was either too black or\ntoo white--too large or too small, or some of his limbs were out of\nproportion to the rest of his body. Most commonly his feet were\ndeformed; and he was obliged to curl up and conceal his tall in some\npart of his habiliments; for, take what shape he would, he could not\nget rid of that encumbrance. He sometimes changed himself into a tree\nor a river; and upon one occasion he transformed himself into a\nbarrister, as we learn from Wierus, book iv, chapter ix. In the reign\nof Philippe le Bel, he appeared to a monk in the shape of a dark man,\nriding a tall black horse--then as a friar--afterwards as an ass, and\nfinally as a coach-wheel. Instances are not rare in which both he and\nhis inferior demons have taken the form of handsome young men; and,\nsuccessfully concealing their tails, have married beautiful young\nwomen, who have had children by them. Such children were easily\nrecognizable by their continual shrieking--by their requiring five\nnurses to suckle them, and by their never growing fat.\n\nAll these demons were at the command of any individual, who would give\nup his immortal soul to the prince of evil for the privilege of\nenjoying their services for a stated period. The wizard or witch could\nsend them to execute the most difficult missions: whatever the witch\ncommanded was performed, except it was a good action, in which case the\norder was disobeyed, and evil worked upon herself instead.\n\nAt intervals, according to the pleasure of Satan, there was a general\nmeeting of the demons and all the witches. This meeting was called the\nSabbath, from its taking place on the Saturday or immediately after\nmidnight on Fridays. These Sabbaths were sometimes held for one\ndistrict, sometimes for another, and once at least, every year, it was\nheld on the Brocken, or among other high mountains, as a general\nsabbath of the fiends for the whole of Christendom.\n\nThe devil generally chose a place where four roads met, as the scene of\nthis assembly, or if that was not convenient, the neighbourhood of a\nlake. Upon this spot nothing would ever afterwards grow, as the hot\nfeet of the demons and witches burnt the principle of fecundity from\nthe earth, and rendered it barren for ever. When orders had been once\nissued for the meeting of the Sabbath, all the wizards and witches who\nfailed to attend it were lashed by demons with a rod made of serpents\nor scorpions, as a punishment for their inattention or want of\npunctuality.\n\nIn France and England, the witches were supposed to ride uniformly upon\nbroomsticks; but in Italy and Spain, the devil himself, in the shape of\na goat, used to transport them on his back, which lengthened or\nshortened according to the number of witches he was desirous of\naccommodating. No witch, when proceeding to the Sabbath, could get out\nby a door or window, were she to try ever so much. Their general mode\nof ingress was by the keyhole, and of egress, by the chimney, up which\nthey flew, broom and all, with the greatest ease. To prevent the\nabsence of the witches from being noticed by their neighbours, some\ninferior demon was commanded to assume their shapes and lie in their\nbeds, feigning illness, until the Sabbath was over.\n\nWhen all the wizards and witches had arrived at the place of\nrendezvous, the infernal ceremonies of the Sabbath began. Satan, having\nassumed his favourite shape of a large he-goat, with a face in front\nand another in his haunches, took his seat upon a throne; and all\npresent, in succession, paid their respects to him, and kissed him in\nhis face behind. This done, he appointed a master of the ceremonies, in\ncompany with whom he made a personal examination of all the wizards and\nwitches, to see whether they had the secret mark about them by which\nthey were stamped as the devil's own. This mark was always insensible\nto pain. Those who had not yet been marked, received the mark from the\nmaster of the ceremonies; the devil at the same time bestowing\nnicknames upon them. This done, they all began to sing and dance in the\nmost furious manner, until some one arrived who was anxious to be\nadmitted into their society. They were then silent for a while, until\nthe new-comer had denied his salvation, kissed the devil, spat upon the\nBible, and sworn obedience to him in all things. They then began\ndancing again with all their might, and singing these words,\n\n  \"Alegremos, Alegremos!\n  Que gente va tenemos!\"\n\nIn the course of an hour or two, they generally became wearied of this\nviolent exercise, and then they all sat down and recounted the evil\ndeeds they had done since their last meeting. Those who had not been\nmalicious and mischievous enough towards their fellow-creatures,\nreceived personal chastisement from Satan himself, who flogged them\nwith thorns or scorpions till they were covered with blood, and unable\nto sit or stand.\n\nWhen this ceremony was concluded, they were all amused by a dance of\ntoads. Thousands of these creatures sprang out of the earth; and\nstanding on their hind-legs, danced, while the devil played the\nbagpipes or the trumpet. These toads were all endowed with the faculty\nof speech, and entreated the witches to reward them with the flesh of\nunbaptized babes for their exertions to give them pleasure. The witches\npromised compliance. The devil bade them remember to keep their word;\nand then stamping his foot, caused all the toads to sink into the earth\nin an instant. The place being thus cleared, preparation was made for\nthe banquet, where all manner of disgusting things were served up and\ngreedily devoured by the demons and witches; although the latter were\nsometimes regaled with choice meats and expensive wines from golden\nplates and crystal goblets; but they were never thus favoured unless\nthey had done an extraordinary number of evil deeds since the last\nperiod of meeting.\n\nAfter the feast, they began dancing again; but such as had no relish\nfor any more exercise in that way, amused themselves by mocking the\nholy sacrament of baptism. For this purpose, the toads were again\ncalled up, and sprinkled with filthy water; the devil making the sign\nof the cross, and all the witches calling out, \"In nomine Patrica,\nAragueaco Petrica, agora! agora! Valentia, jouando goure gaits\ngoustia!\" which meant, \"In the name of Patrick, Petrick of\nAragon,--now, now, all our ills are over!\"\n\nWhen the devil wished to be particularly amused, he made the witches\nstrip off their clothes and dance before him, each with a cat tied\nround her neck, and another dangling from her body in form of a tail.\nWhen the cock crew, they all disappeared, and the Sabbath was ended.\n\nThis is a summary of the belief which prevailed for many centuries\nnearly all over Europe, and which is far from eradicated even at this\nday. It was varied in some respects in several countries, but the main\npoints were the same in France, Germany, Great Britain, Italy, Spain,\nand the far North of Europe.\n\nThe early annals of France abound with stories of supposed sorcery, but\nit was not until the time of Charlemagne that the crime acquired any\ngreat importance. \"This monarch,\" says M. Jules Garinet, [\"Histoire de\nla Magie en France. Rois de la seconde race,\" page 29.] \"had several\ntimes given orders that all necromancers, astrologers, and witches\nshould be driven from his states; but as the number of criminals\naugmented daily, he found it necessary at last to resort to severer\nmeasures. In consequence, he published several edicts, which may be\nfound at length in the 'Capitulaire de Baluse.' By these, every sort of\nmagic, enchantment, and witchcraft was forbidden; and the punishment of\ndeath decreed against those who in any way evoked the devil--compounded\nlove-philters--afflicted either man or woman with barrenness--troubled\nthe atmosphere--excited tempests--destroyed the fruits of the\nearth--dried up the milk of cows, or tormented their fellow-creatures\nwith sores and diseases. All persons found guilty of exercising these\nexecrable arts, were to be executed immediately upon conviction, that\nthe earth might be rid of the burthen and curse of their presence; and\nthose even who consulted them might also be punished with death.\" [M.\nMichaud, in his \"History of the Crusades,\" M. Guinguene, in his\n\"Literary History of Italy,\" and some other critics, have objected to\nTasso's poem, that he has attributed to the Crusaders a belief in\nmagic, which did not exist at that time. If these critics had referred\nto the Edicts of Charlemagne, they would have seen that Tasso was\nright, and that a disposition too eager to spy out imperfections in a\ngreat work was leading themselves into error.]\n\nAfter this time, prosecutions for witchcraft are continually mentioned,\nespecially by the French historians. It was a crime imputed with so\nmuch ease, and repelled with so much difficulty, that the powerful,\nwhenever they wanted to ruin the weak, and could fix no other\nimputation upon them, had only to accuse them of witchcraft to ensure\ntheir destruction. Instances, in which this crime was made the pretext\nfor the most violent persecution, both of individuals and of\ncommunities, whose real offences were purely political or religious,\nmust be familiar to every reader. The extermination of the Stedinger,\nin 1234; of the Templars, from 1307 to 1313; the execution of Joan of\nArc, in 1429; and the unhappy scenes of Arras, in 1459; are the most\nprominent. The first of these is perhaps the least known, but is not\namong the least remarkable. The following account, from Dr. Kortum's\ninteresting history [\"Entstehungsgeschichte der freistadlischen Bunde\nim Mittelalter, von Dr. F. Kortum.\" 1827.] of the republican\nconfederacies of the Middle Ages, will show the horrible convenience of\nimputations of witchcraft, when royal or priestly wolves wanted a\npretext for a quarrel with the sheep.\n\nThe Frieslanders, inhabiting the district from the Weser to the\nZuydersee, had long been celebrated for their attachment to freedom,\nand their successful struggles in its defence. As early as the eleventh\ncentury, they had formed a general confederacy against the\nencroachments of the Normans and the Saxons, which was divided into\nseven seelands, holding annually a diet under a large oaktree at\nAurich, near the Upstalboom. Here they managed their own affairs,\nwithout the control of the clergy and ambitious nobles who surrounded\nthem, to the great scandal of the latter. They already had true notions\nof a representative government. The deputies of the people levied the\nnecessary taxes, deliberated on the affairs of the community, and\nperformed, in their simple and patriarchal manner; nearly all the\nfunctions of the representative assemblies of the present day. Finally,\nthe Archbishop of Bremen, together with the Count of Oldenburg and\nother neighbouring potentates, formed a league against that section of\nthe Frieslanders, known by the name of the Stedinger, and succeeded,\nafter harassing them, and sowing dissensions among them for many years,\nin bringing them under the yoke. But the Stedinger, devotedly attached\nto their ancient laws, by which they had attained a degree of civil and\nreligious liberty very uncommon in that age, did not submit without a\nviolent struggle. They arose in insurrection, in the year 1204, in\ndefence of the ancient customs of their country--refused to pay taxes\nto the feudal chiefs, or tithes to the clergy, who had forced\nthemselves into their peaceful retreats, and drove out many of their\noppressors. For a period of eight-and-twenty years the brave Stedinger\ncontinued the struggle single-handed against the forces of the\nArchbishops of Bremen and the Counts of Oldenburg, and destroyed, in\nthe year 1232, the strong castle of Slutterberg, near Delmenhorst,\nbuilt by the latter nobleman as a position from which he could send out\nhis marauders to plunder and destroy the possessions of the peasantry.\n\nThe invincible courage of these poor people proving too strong for\ntheir oppressors to cope with by the ordinary means of warfare, the\nArchbishop of Bremen applied to Pope Gregory IX. for his spiritual aid\nagainst them. That prelate entered cordially into the cause, and\nlaunching forth his anathema against the Stedinger as heretics and\nwitches, encouraged all true believers to assist in their\nextermination. A large body of thieves and fanatics broke into their\ncountry in the year 1233, killing and burning wherever they went, and\nnot sparing either women or children, the sick or the aged, in their\nrage. The Stedinger, however, rallied in great force, routed their\ninvaders, and killed in battle their leader, Count Burckhardt of\nOldenburg, with many inferior chieftains.\n\nAgain the pope was applied to, and a crusade against the Stedinger was\npreached in all that part of Germany. The pope wrote to all the bishops\nand leaders of the faithful an exhortation to arm, to root out from the\nland those abominable witches and wizards. \"The Stedinger,\" said his\nHoliness, \"seduced by the devil, have abjured all the laws of God and\nman; slandered the Church--insulted the holy sacraments--consulted\nwitches to raise evil spirits--shed blood like water--taken the lives\nof priests, and concocted an infernal scheme to propagate the worship\nof the devil, whom they adore under the name of Asmodi. The devil\nappears to them in different shapes; sometimes as a goose or a duck,\nand at others in the figure of a pale, black-eyed youth, with a\nmelancholy aspect, whose embrace fills their hearts with eternal hatred\nagainst the holy church of Christ. This devil presides at their\nSabbaths, when they all kiss him and dance around him. He then\nenvelopes them in total darkness, and they all, male and female, give\nthemselves up to the grossest and most disgusting debauchery.\"\n\nIn consequence of these letters of the pope, the Emperor of Germany,\nFrederic II, also pronounced his ban against them. The Bishops of\nRatzebourg, Lubeck, Osnabruek, Munster, and Minden took up arms to\nexterminate them, aided by the Duke of Brabant, the Counts of Holland,\nof Cloves, of the Mark, of Oldenburg, of Egmond, of Diest, and many\nother powerful nobles. An army of forty thousand men was soon\ncollected, which marched, under the command of the Duke of Brabant,\ninto the country of the Stedinger. The latter mustered vigorously in\ndefence of their lives and liberties, but could raise no greater force,\nincluding every man capable of bearing arms, than eleven thousand men\nto cope against the overwhelming numbers of their foe.  They fought\nwith the energy of despair, but all in vain. Eight thousand of them\nwere slain on the field of battle; the whole race was exterminated; and\nthe enraged conquerors scoured the country in all directions--slew the\nwomen and children and old men--drove away the cattle--fired the woods\nand cottages, and made a total waste of the land.\n\nJust as absurd and effectual was the charge brought against the\nTemplars in 1307, when they had rendered themselves obnoxious to the\npotentates and prelacy of Christendom. Their wealth, their power, their\npride, and their insolence had raised up enemies on every side; and\nevery sort of accusation was made against them, but failed to work\ntheir overthrow, until the terrible cry of witchcraft was let loose\nupon them. This effected its object, and the Templars were extirpated.\nThey were accused of having sold their souls to the devil, and of\ncelebrating all the infernal mysteries of the witches' Sabbath. It was\npretended that, when they admitted a novice into their order, they\nforced him to renounce his salvation and curse Jesus Christ; that they\nthen made him submit to many unholy and disgusting ceremonies, and\nforced him to kiss the Superior on the cheek, the navel, and the\nbreech; and spit three times upon a crucifix. That all the members were\nforbidden to have connexion with women, but might give themselves up\nwithout restraint to every species of unmentionable debauchery.  That\nwhen, by any mischance, a Templar infringed this order, and a child was\nborn, the whole order met, and tossed it about like a shuttlecock from\none to the other until it expired; that they then roasted it by a slow\nfire, and with the fat which trickled from it anointed the hair and\nbeard of a large image of the devil. It was also said that, when one of\nthe knights died, his body was burnt into a powder, and then mixed with\nwine and drunk by every member of the order. Philip IV, who, to\nexercise his own implacable hatred, invented, in all probability, the\ngreater part of these charges, issued orders for the immediate arrest\nof all the Templars in his dominions. The pope afterwards took up the\ncause with almost as much fervour as the King of France; and in every\npart of Europe, the Templars were thrown into prison and their goods\nand estates confiscated. Hundreds of them, when put to the rack,\nconfessed even the most preposterous of the charges against them, and\nby so doing, increased the popular clamour and the hopes of their\nenemies. It is true that, when removed from the rack, they denied all\nthey had previously confessed; but this circumstance only increased the\noutcry, and was numbered as an additional crime against them. They were\nconsidered in a worse light than before, and condemned forthwith to the\nflames, as relapsed heretics. Fifty-nine of these unfortunate victims\nwere all burned together by a slow fire in a field in the suburbs of\nParis, protesting to the very last moment of their lives, their\ninnocence of the crimes imputed to them, and refusing to accept of\npardon upon condition of acknowledging themselves guilty. Similar\nscenes were enacted in the provinces; and for four years, hardly a\nmonth passed without witnessing the execution of one or more of these\nunhappy men. Finally, in 1313, the last scene of this tragedy closed by\nthe burning of the Grand-Master, Jacques de Molay, and his companion,\nGuy, the Commander of Normandy. Anything more atrocious it is\nimpossible to conceive; disgraceful alike to the monarch who\noriginated, the pope who supported, and the age which tolerated the\nmonstrous iniquity. That the malice of a few could invent such a\ncharge, is a humiliating thought for the lover of his species; but that\nmillions of mankind should credit it, is still more so.\n\nThe execution of Joan of Arc is the next most notorious example which\nhistory affords us, of the imputation of witchcraft against a political\nenemy. Instances of similar persecution, in which this crime was made\nthe pretext for the gratification of political or religious hatred,\nmight be multiplied to a great extent. But it is better to proceed at\nonce to the consideration of the bull of Pope Innocent, the torch that\nset fire to the longlaid train, and caused so fearful an explosion over\nthe Christian world. It will be necessary, however, to go back for some\nyears anterior to that event, the better to understand the motives that\ninfluenced the Church in the promulgation of that fearful document.\n\nTowards the close of the fourteenth and beginning of the fifteenth\ncentury, many witches were burned in different parts of Europe. As a\nnatural consequence of the severe persecution, the crime, or the\npretenders to it, increased. Those who found themselves accused and\nthreatened with the penalties, if they happened to be persons of a bad\nand malicious disposition, wished they had the power imputed to them,\nthat they might be revenged upon their persecutors. Numerous instances\nare upon record of half-crazed persons being found muttering the spells\nwhich were supposed to raise the evil one. When religion and law alike\nrecognized the crime, it is no wonder that the weak in reason and the\nstrong in imagination, especially when they were of a nervous\ntemperament, fancied themselves endued with the terrible powers of\nwhich all the world was speaking. The belief of their neighbours did\nnot lag behind their own, and execution was the speedy consequence.\n\nAs the fear of witchcraft increased, the Catholic clergy strove to fix\nthe imputation of it upon those religious sects, the pioneers of the\nReformation, who began about this time to be formidable to the Church\nof Rome. If a charge of heresy could not ensure their destruction, that\nof sorcery and witchcraft never failed. In the year 1459, a devoted\ncongregation of the Waldenses, at Arras, who used to repair at night to\nworship God in their own manner in solitary places, fell victims to an\naccusation of sorcery. It was rumored in Arras that in the desert\nplaces to which they retired, the devil appeared before them in human\nform, and read from a large book his laws and ordinances, to which they\nall promised obedience; that he then distributed money and food among\nthem, to bind them to his service, which done, they gave themselves up\nto every species of lewdness and debauchery. Upon these rumours,\nseveral creditable persons in Arras were seized and imprisoned,\ntogether with a number of decrepit and idiotic old women. The rack,\nthat convenient instrument for making the accused confess anything, was\nof course put in requisition.  Monstrelet, in his Chronicle, says that\nthey were tortured until some of them admitted the truth of the whole\naccusations, and said besides, that they had seen and recognized, in\ntheir nocturnal assemblies, many persons of rank; many prelates,\nseigneurs, governors of bailliages, and mayors of cities, being such\nnames as the examiners had themselves suggested to the victims. Several\nwho had been thus informed against, were thrown into prison, and so\nhorribly tortured, that reason fled, and, in their ravings of pain,\nthey also confessed their midnight meetings with the devil, and the\noaths they had taken to serve him.  Upon these confessions judgment was\npronounced: the poor old women, as usual in such cases, were hanged and\nburned in the market-place; the more wealthy delinquents were allowed\nto escape, upon payment of large sums. It was soon after universally\nrecognized that these trials had been conducted in the most odious\nmanner, and that the judges had motives of private vengeance against\nmany of the more influential persons who had been implicated. The\nParliament of Paris afterwards declared the sentence illegal, and the\njudges iniquitous; but its arret was too late to be of service even to\nthose who had paid the fine, or to punish the authorities who had\nmisconducted themselves; for it was not delivered until thirty-two\nyears after the executions had taken place.\n\nIn the mean time, accusations of witchcraft spread rapidly in France,\nItaly, and Germany. Strange to say, that although in the first instance\nchiefly directed against heretics, the latter were as firm believers in\nthe crime as even the Catholics themselves. In after times we also find\nthat the Lutherans and Calvinists became greater witchburners than ever\nthe Romanists had been: so deeply was the prejudice rooted. Every other\npoint of belief was in dispute, but that was considered by every sect\nto be as well established as the authenticity of the Scriptures, or the\nexistence of a God.\n\nBut at this early period of the epidemic the persecutions were directed\nby the heads of the Catholic Church. The spread of heresy betokened, it\nwas thought, the coming of Antichrist. Florimond, in his work\nconcerning the Antichrist, lets us fully into the secret of these\nprosecutions. He says, \"All who have afforded us some signs of the\napproach of Antichrist agree that the increase of sorcery and\nwitchcraft is to distinguish the melancholy period of his advent; and\nwas ever age so afflicted as ours? The seats destined for criminals in\nour courts of justice are blackened with persons accused of this guilt.\nThere are not judges enough to try them. Our dungeons are gorged with\nthem. No day passes that we do not render our tribunals bloody by the\ndooms which we pronounce, or in which we do not return to our homes,\ndiscountenanted and terrified at the horrible confessions which we have\nheard. And the devil is accounted so good a master, that we cannot\ncommit so great a number of his slaves to the flames, but what there\nshall arise from their ashes a sufficient number to supply their place.\"\n\nFlorimond here spoke the general opinion of the Church of Rome; but it\nnever suggested itself to the mind of any person engaged in these\ntrials, that if it were indeed a devil, who raised up so many new\nwitches to fill the places of those consumed, it was no other than one\nin their own employ--the devil of persecution. But so it was.  The more\nthey burned, the more they found to burn; until it became a common\nprayer with women in the humbler walks of life, that they might never\nlive to grow old. It was sufficient to be aged, poor, and ill-tempered,\nto ensure death at the stake or the scaffold.\n\nIn the year 1487 there was a severe storm in Switzerland, which laid\nwaste the country for four miles around Constance. Two wretched old\nwomen, whom the popular voice had long accused of witchcraft, were\narrested on the preposterous charge of having raised the tempest. The\nrack was displayed, and the two poor creatures extended upon it. In\nreply to various leading questions from their tormentors, they owned,\nin their agony, that they were in the constant habit of meeting the\ndevil, that they had sold their souls to him, and that at their command\nhe had raised the tempest. Upon this insane and blasphemous charge they\nwere condemned to die. In the criminal registers of Constance there\nstands against the name of each the simple but significant phrase,\n\"convicta et combusta.\"\n\nThis case and hundreds of others were duly reported to the\necclesiastical powers. There happened at that time to be a Pontiff at\nthe head of the Church who had given much of his attention to the\nsubject of witchcraft, and who, with the intent of rooting out the\ncrime, did more to increase it than any other man that ever lived.\nJohn Baptist Cibo, elected to the Papacy in 1485, under the designation\nof Innocent VIII, was sincerely alarmed at the number of witches, and\nlaunched forth his terrible manifesto against them. In his celebrated\nbull of 1488, he called the nations of Europe to the rescue of the\nchurch of Christ upon earth, emperilled by the arts of Satan, and set\nforth the horrors that had reached his ears; how that numbers of both\nsexes had intercourse with the infernal fiends; how by their sorceries\nthey afflicted both man and beast; how they blighted the marriage bed,\ndestroyed the births of women and the increase of cattle; and how they\nblasted the corn on the ground, the grapes of the vineyard, the fruits\nof the trees, and the herbs of the field. In order that criminals so\natrocious might no longer pollute the earth, he appointed inquisitors\nin every country, armed with the apostolic power to convict and punish.\n\nIt was now that the Witch Mania, properly so called, may be said to\nhave fairly commenced. Immediately a class of men sprang up in Europe,\nwho made it the sole business of their lives to discover and burn the\nwitches. Sprenger, in Germany, was the most celebrated of these\nnational scourges. In his notorious work, the \"Malleus Maleficarum,\" he\nlaid down a regular form of trial, and appointed a course of\nexamination by which the inquisitors in other countries might best\ndiscover the guilty. The questions, which were always enforced by\ntorture, were of the most absurd and disgusting nature.  The\ninquisitors were required to ask the suspected whether they had\nmidnight meetings with the devil? whether they attended the witch's\nsabbath on the Brocken? whether they had their familiar spirits?\nwhether they could raise whirlwinds and call down the lightning? and\nwhether they had sexual intercourse with Satan?\n\nStraightway the inquisitors set to work; Cumarius, in Italy, burned\nforty-one poor women in one province alone, and Sprenger, in Germany,\nburned a number which can never be ascertained correctly, but which, it\nis agreed on all hands, amounted to more than five hundred in a year.\nThe great resemblance between the confessions of the unhappy victims\nwas regarded as a new proof of the existence of the crime. But this is\nnot astonishing. The same questions from the \"Malleus Maleficarum,\"\nwere put to them all, and torture never failed to educe the answer\nrequired by the inquisitor. Numbers of people whose imaginations were\nfilled with these horrors, went further in the way of confession than\neven their tormenters anticipated, in the hope that they would thereby\nbe saved from the rack, and put out of their misery at once. Some\nconfessed that they had had children by the devil; but no one, who had\never been a mother, gave utterance to such a frantic imagining, even in\nthe extremity of her anguish. The childless only confessed it, and were\nburned instanter as unworthy to live.\n\nFor fear the zeal of the enemies of Satan should cool, successive Popes\nappointed new commissions. One was appointed by Alexander VI, in 1494;\nanother by Leo X, in 1521, and a third by Adrian VI, in 1522.  They\nwere all armed with the same powers to hunt out and destroy, and\nexecuted their fearful functions but too rigidly. In Geneva alone five\nhundred persons were burned in the years 1515 and 1516, under the title\nof Protestant witches. It would appear that their chief crime was\nheresy, and their witchcraft merely an aggravation. Bartolomeo de Spina\nhas a list still more fearful. He informs us that, in the year 1524, no\nless than a thousand persons suffered death for witchcraft in the\ndistrict of Como, and that for several years afterwards the average\nnumber of victims exceeded a hundred annually. One inquisitor,\nRemigius, took great credit to himself for having, during fifteen\nyears, convicted and burned nine hundred.\n\nIn France, about the year 1520, fires for the execution of witches\nblazed in almost every town. Danaeus, in his \"Dialogues of Witches,\"\nsays they were so numerous that it would be next to impossible to tell\nthe number of them. So deep was the thraldom of the human mind, that\nthe friends and relatives of the accused parties looked on and\napproved. The wife or sister of a murderer might sympathise in his\nfate, but the wives and husbands of sorcerers and witches had no pity.\nThe truth is that pity was dangerous, for it was thought no one could\nhave compassion on the sufferings of a witch who was not a dabbler in\nthe art: to have wept for a witch would have insured the stake. In some\ndistricts, however, the exasperation of the people broke out, in spite\nof superstition. The inquisitor of a rural township in Piedmont burned\nthe victims so plentifully, and so fast, that there was not a family in\nthe place which did not lose a member. The people at last arose, and\nthe inquisitor was but too happy to escape from the country with whole\nlimbs. The Archbishop of the diocese proceeded afterwards to the trial\nof such as the inquisitor had left in prison.\n\nSome of the charges were so utterly preposterous that the poor wretches\nwere at once liberated; others met a harder, but the usual fate. Some\nof them were accused of having joined the witches' dance at midnight\nunder a blasted oak, where they had been seen by creditable people. The\nhusbands of several of these women (two of whom were young and\nbeautiful) swore positively that at the time stated their wives were\ncomfortably asleep in their arms; but it was all in vain. Their word\nwas taken, but the Archbishop told them they had been deceived by the\ndevil and their own senses. It was true they might have had the\nsemblance of their wives in their beds, but the originals were far\naway, at the devil's dance under the oak. The honest fellows were\nconfounded, and their wives burned forthwith.\n\nIn the year 1561, five poor women of Verneuil were accused of\ntransforming themselves into cats, and in that shape attending the\nsabbath of the fiends--prowling around Satan, who presided over them in\nthe form of a goat, and dancing, to amuse him, upon his back. They were\nfound guilty, and burned. [Bodin, page 95. Garinet, page 125.\n\"Anti-demon de Serclier,\" page 346.]\n\nIn 1564, three wizards and a witch appeared before the Presidents\nSalvert and D'Avanton: they confessed, when extended on the rack, that\nthey anointed the sheep-pens with infernal unguents to kill the\nsheep--that they attended the sabbath, where they saw a great black\ngoat, which spoke to them, and made them kiss him, each holding a\nlighted candle in his hand while he performed the ceremony. They were\nall executed at Poitiers.\n\nIn 1571, the celebrated sorcerer, Trois Echelles, was burned in the\nPlace de Greve, in Paris. He confessed, in the presence of Charles IX,\nand of the Marshals de Montmorency, De Retz, and the Sieur du Mazille,\nphysician to the King, that he could perform the most wonderful things\nby the aid of a devil to whom he had sold himself. He described at\ngreat length the saturnalia of the fiends--the sacrifices which they\noffered up--the debaucheries they committed with the young and handsome\nwitches, and the various modes of preparing the infernal unguent for\nblighting cattle. He said he had upwards of twelve hundred accomplices\nin the crime of witchcraft in various parts of France, whom he named to\nthe King, and many of whom were afterwards arrested and suffered\nexecution.\n\nAt Dole, two years afterwards, Gilles Garnier, a native of Lyons, was\nindicted for being a loupgarou, or man-wolf, and for prowling in that\nshape about the country at night to devour little children. The\nindictment against him, as read by Henri Camus, doctor of laws and\ncounsellor of the King, was to the effect that he, Gilles Garnier, had\nseized upon a little girl, twelve years of age, whom he drew into a\nvineyard and there killed, partly with his teeth and partly with his\nhands, seeming like wolf's paws--that from thence he trailed her\nbleeding body along the ground with his teeth into the wood of La\nSerre, where he ate the greatest portion of her at one meal, and\ncarried the remainder home to his wife; that, upon another occasion,\neight days before the festival of All Saints, he was seen to seize\nanother child in his teeth, and would have devoured her had she not\nbeen rescued by the country-people--and that the said child died a few\ndays afterwards of the injuries he had inflicted; that fifteen days\nafter the same festival of All Saints, being again in the shape of a\nwolf, he devoured a boy thirteen years of age, having previously torn\noff his leg and thigh with his teeth, and hid them away for his\nbreakfast on the morrow. He was, furthermore, indicted for giving way\nto the same diabolical and unnatural propensities even in his shape of\na man, and that he had strangled a boy in a wood with the intention of\neating him, which crime he would have effected if he had not been seen\nby the neighhours and prevented.\n\nGilles Garnier was put to the rack, after fifty witnesses had deposed\nagainst him: he confessed everything that was laid to his charge. He\nwas, thereupon, brought back into the presence of his judges, when Dr.\nCamus, in the name of the Parliament of Dole, pronounced the following\nsentence:--\n\n\"Seeing that Gilles Garnier has, by the testimony of credible\nwitnesses, and by his own spontaneous confession, been proved guilty of\nthe abominable crimes of lycanthropy and witchcraft, this court\ncondemns him, the said Gilles, to be this day taken in a cart from this\nspot to the place of execution, accompanied by the executioner (maitre\nexecuteur de la haute justice), where he, by the said executioner,\nshall be tied to a stake and burned alive, and that his ashes be then\nscattered to the winds. The Court further condemns him, the said\nGilles, to the costs of this prosecution.\"\n\n\"Given at Dole, this 18th day of January, 1573.\"\n\nIn 1578, the Parliament of Paris was occupied for several days with the\ntrial of a man, named Jacques Roller. He, also, was found guilty of\nbeing a loup-garou, and in that shape devouring a little boy. He was\nburnt alive in the Place de Greve.\n\nIn 1579, so much alarm was excited in the neighbourhood of Melun by the\nincrease of witches and loup-garous, that a council was held to devise\nsome measures to stay the evil. A decree was passed, that all witches,\nand consulters with witches, should be punished with death; and not\nonly those, but fortune-tellers and conjurors of every kind.  The\nParliament of Rouen took up the same question in the following year,\nand decreed that the possession of a grimoire, or book of spells, was\nsufficient evidence of witchcraft; and that all persons on whom such\nbooks were found should be burned alive. Three councils were held in\ndifferent parts of France in the year 1583, all in relation to the same\nsubject. The Parliament of Bourdeaux issued strict injunctions to all\ncurates and clergy whatever, to use redoubled efforts to root out the\ncrime of witchcraft. The Parliament of Tours was equally peremptory,\nand feared the judgments of an offended God, if all these dealers with\nthe devil were not swept from the face of the land. The Parliament of\nRheims was particularly severe against the noueurs d'aiguillette, or\n\"tyers of the knot;\" people of both sexes, who took pleasure in\npreventing the consummation of marriage, that they might counteract the\ncommand of God to our first parents, to increase and multiply. This\nParliament held it to be sinful to wear amulets to preserve from\nwitchcraft; and that this practice might not be continued within its\njurisdiction, drew up a form of exorcism, which would more effectually\ndefeat the agents of the devil, and put them to flight.\n\nA case of witchcraft, which created a great sensation in its day,\noccurred in 1588, at a village in the mountains of Auvergne, about two\nleagues from Apchon. A gentleman of that place being at his window,\nthere passed a friend of his who had been out hunting, and who was then\nreturning to his own house. The gentleman asked his friend what sport\nhe had had; upon which the latter informed him that he had been\nattacked in the plain by a large and savage wolf, which he had shot at,\nwithout wounding; and that he had then drawn out his hunting-knife and\ncut off the animal's fore-paw, as it sprang upon his neck to devour\nhim. The huntsman, upon this, put his hand into his bag to pull out the\npaw, but was shocked to find that it was a woman's hand, with a\nwedding-ring on the finger. The gentleman immediately recognized his\nwife's ring, \"which,\" says the indictment against her, \"made him begin\nto suspect some evil of her.\" He immediately went in search of her, and\nfound her sitting by the fire in the kitchen, with her arm hidden\nunderneath her apron. He tore off her apron with great vehemence, and\nfound that she had no hand, and that the stump was even then bleeding.\nShe was given into custody, and burned at Riom in presence of some\nthousands of spectators. [Tablier. See also Boguet, \"Discours sur les\nSorciers;\" and M. Jules Garinet, \"Histoire de la Magie,\" page 150.]\n\nIn the midst of these executions, rare were the gleams of mercy; few\ninstances are upon record of any acquittal taking place when the charge\nwas witchcraft. The discharge of fourteen persons by the Parliament of\nParis, in the year 1589, is almost a solitary example of a return to\nreason. Fourteen persons, condemned to death for witchcraft, appealed\nagainst the judgment to the Parliament of Paris, which for political\nreasons had been exiled to Tours. The Parliament named four\ncommissioners, Pierre Pigray, the King's surgeon, and Messieurs Leroi,\nRenard, and Falaiseau, the King's physicians, to visit and examine\nthese witches, and see whether they had the mark of the devil upon\nthem. Pigray, who relates the circumstance in his work on Surgery, book\nvii, chapter the tenth, says the visit was made in presence of two\ncounsellors of the court. The witches were all stripped naked, and the\nphysicians examined their bodies very diligently, pricking them in all\nthe marks they could find, to see whether they were insensible to pain,\nwhich was always considered a certain proof of guilt. They were,\nhowever, very sensible of the pricking, and some of them called out\nvery lustily when the pins were driven into them. \"We found them,\"\ncontinues Pierre Pigray, \"to be very poor, stupid people, and some of\nthem insane; many of them were quite indifferent about life, and one or\ntwo of them desired death as a relief for their sufferings. Our opinion\nwas, that they stood more in need of medicine than of punishment, and\nso we reported to the Parliament. Their case was, thereupon, taken into\nfurther consideration, and the Parliament, after mature counsel amongst\nall the members, ordered the poor creatures to be sent to their homes,\nwithout inflicting any punishment upon them.\"\n\nSuch was the dreadful state of Italy, Germany, and France, during the\nsixteenth century, which was far from being the worst crisis of the\npopular madness with regard to witchcraft. Let us see what was the\nstate of England during the same period. The Reformation, which in its\nprogress had rooted out so many errors, stopped short at this, the\ngreatest error of all. Luther and Calvin were as firm believers in\nwitchcraft as Pope Innocent himself, and their followers showed\nthemselves more zealous persecutors than the Romanists. Dr. Hutchinson,\nin his work on Witchcraft, asserts that the mania manifested itself\nlater in England, and raged with less virulence than on the Continent.\nThe first assertion only is true; but though the persecution began\nlater both in England and Scotland, its progress was as fearful as\nelsewhere.\n\nIt was not until more than fifty years after the issuing of the Bull of\nInnocent VIII. that the Legislature of England thought fit to make any\nmore severe enactments against sorcery than those already in operation.\nThe statute of 1541 was the first that specified the particular crime\nof witchcraft. At a much earlier period, many persons had suffered\ndeath for sorcery in addition to other offences; but no executions took\nplace for attending the witches' sabbath, raising tempests, afflicting\ncattle with barrenness, and all the fantastic trumpery of the\nContinent. Two statutes were passed in 1551; the first, relating to\nfalse prophecies, caused mainly, no doubt, by the impositions of\nElizabeth Barton, the Holy Maid of Kent, in 1534, and the second\nagainst conjuration, witchcraft, and sorcery. But even this enactment\ndid not consider witchcraft as penal in itself, and only condemned to\ndeath those who by means of spells, incantations, or contracts with the\ndevil, attempted the lives of their neighbours. The statute of\nElizabeth, in 1562, at last recognized witchcraft as a crime of the\nhighest magnitude, whether exerted or not to the injury of the lives,\nlimbs, and possessions of the community. From that date, the\npersecution may be fairly said to have commenced in England. It reached\nits climax in the early part of the seventeenth century, which was the\nhottest period of the mania all over Europe.\n\nA few cases of witch persecution in the sixteenth century will enable\nthe reader to form a more accurate idea of the progress of this great\nerror than if he plunged at once into that busy period of its history\nwhen Matthew Hopkins and his coadjutors exercised their infernal\ncalling. Several instances occur in England during the latter years of\nthe reign of Elizabeth. At this time the public mind had become pretty\nfamiliar with the details of the crime. Bishop Jewell, in his sermons\nbefore Her Majesty, used constantly to conclude them by a fervent\nprayer that she might be preserved from witches. Upon one occasion, in\n1598, his words were, \"It may please your Grace to understand that\nwitches and sorcerers, within these last four years, are marvellously\nincreased within this your Grace's realm. Your Grace's subjects pine\naway even unto the death; their colour fadeth--their flesh\nrotteth--their speech is benumbed--their senses are bereft! I pray God\nthey may never practise further than upon the subject!\"\n\nBy degrees, an epidemic terror of witchcraft spread into the villages.\nIn proportion as the doctrines of the Puritans took root this dread\nincreased, and, of course, brought persecution in its train. The Church\nof England has claimed, and is entitled to the merit, of having been\nless influenced in these matters than any other sect of Christians; but\nstill they were tainted with the superstition of the age. One of the\nmost flagrant instances of cruelty and delusion upon record was\nconsummated under the authority of the Church, and commemorated till a\nvery late period by an annual lecture at the University of Cambridge.\n\nThis is the celebrated case of the Witches of Warbois, who were\nexecuted about thirty-two years after the passing of the statute of\nElizabeth. Although in the interval but few trials are recorded, there\nis, unfortunately, but too much evidence to show the extreme length to\nwhich the popular prejudice was carried. Many women lost their lives in\nevery part of England without being brought to trial at all, from the\ninjuries received at the hands of the people. The number of these can\nnever be ascertained.\n\nThe case of the Witches of Warbois merits to be detailed at length, not\nonly from the importance attached to it for so many years by the\nlearned of the University, but from the singular absurdity of the\nevidence upon which men, sensible in all other respects, could condemn\ntheir fellow-creatures to the scaffold.\n\nThe principal actors in this strange drama were the families of Sir\nSamuel Cromwell and a Mr. Throgmorton, both gentlemen of landed\nproperty near Warbois, in the county of Huntingdon. Mr. Throgmorton had\nseveral daughters, the eldest of whom, Mistress Joan, was an\nimaginative and melancholy girl, whose head was filled with stories of\nghosts and witches. Upon one occasion she chanced to pass the cottage\nof one Mrs. or, as she was called, Mother Samuel, a very aged, a very\npoor, and a very ugly woman. Mother Samuel was sitting at her door\nknitting, with a black cap upon her head, when this silly young lady\npassed, and taking her eyes from her work she looked steadfastly at\nher. Mistress Joan immediately fancied that she felt sudden pains in\nall her limbs, and from that day forth, never ceased to tell her\nsisters, and everybody about her, that Mother Samuel had bewitched her.\nThe other children took up the cry, and actually frightened themselves\ninto fits whenever they passed within sight of this terrible old woman.\n\nMr. and Mrs. Throgmorton, not a whir wiser than their children,\nbelieved all the absurd tales they had been told; and Lady Cromwell, a\ngossip of Mrs. Throgmorton, made herself very active in the business,\nand determined to bring the witch to the ordeal. The sapient Sir Samuel\njoined in the scheme; and the children thus encouraged gave loose reins\nto their imaginations, which seem to have been of the liveliest. They\nsoon invented a whole host of evil spirits, and names for them besides,\nwhich, they said, were sent by Mother Samuel to torment them\ncontinually. Seven spirits especially, they said, were raised from hell\nby this wicked woman to throw them into fits; and as the children were\nactually subject to fits, their mother and her commeres gave the more\ncredit to the story. The names of these spirits were, \"First Smack,\"\n\"Second Smack,\" \"Third Smack,\" \"Blue,\" \"Catch,\" \"Hardname,\" and \"Pluck.\"\n\nThrogmorton, the father, was so pestered by these idle fancies, and yet\nso well inclined to believe them, that he marched valiantly forth to\nthe hut where Mother Samuel resided with her husband and daughter, and\ndragged her forcibly into his own grounds. Lady Cromwell, Mrs.\nThrogmorton, and the girls were in waiting, armed with long pins to\nprick the witch, and see if they could draw blood from her. Lady\nCromwell, who seems to have been the most violent of the party, tore\nthe old woman's cap off her head, and plucking out a handful of her\ngrey hair, gave it to Mrs. Throgmorton to burn, as a charm which would\npreserve them all from her future machinations. It was no wonder that\nthe poor creature, subjected to this rough usage, should give vent to\nan involuntary curse upon her tormentors. She did so, and her curse was\nnever forgotten. Her hair, however, was supposed to be a grand\nspecific, and she was allowed to depart, half dead with terror and ill\nusage. For more than a year, the families of Cromwell and Throgmorton\ncontinued to persecute her, and to assert that her imps afflicted them\nwith pains and fits, turned the milk sour in their pans, and prevented\ntheir cows and ewes from bearing. In the midst of these fooleries, Lady\nCromwell was taken ill and died. It was then remembered that her death\nhad taken place exactly a year and a quarter since she was cursed by\nMother Samuel, and that on several occasions she had dreamed of the\nwitch and a black cat, the latter being of course the arch-enemy of\nmankind himself.\n\nSir Samuel Cromwell now conceived himself bound to take more energetic\nmeasures against the sorceress, since he had lost his wife by her\nmeans. The year and a quarter and the black cat were proofs positive.\nAll the neighbours had taken up the cry of witchcraft against Mother\nSamuel; and her personal appearance, unfortunately for her, the very\nideal of what a witch ought to be, increased the popular suspicion. It\nwould appear that at last the poor woman believed, even to her own\ndisadvantage, that she was what everybody represented her to be. Being\nforcibly brought into Mr. Throgmorton's house, when his daughter Joan\nwas in one of her customary fits, she was commanded by him and Sir\nSamuel Cromwell to expel the devil from the young lady.  She was told\nto repeat her exorcism, and to add, \"as I am a witch, and the causer of\nLady Cromwell's death, I charge thee, fiend, to come out of her!\" She\ndid as was required of her, and moreover confessed that her husband and\ndaughter were leagued with her in witchcraft, and had, like her, sold\ntheir souls to the devil. The whole family were immediately arrested,\nand sent to Huntingdon to prison.\n\nThe trial was instituted shortly afterwards before Mr. Justice Fenner,\nwhen all the crazy girls of Mr. Throgmorton's family gave evidence\nagainst Mother Samuel and her family. They were all three put to the\ntorture. The old woman confessed in her anguish that she was a\nwitch--that she had cast her spells upon the young ladies, and that she\nhad caused the death of Lady Cromwell. The father and daughter,\nstronger in mind than their unfortunate wife and parent, refused to\nconfess anything, and asserted their innocence to the last. They were\nall three condemned to be hanged, and their bodies burned. The\ndaughter, who was young and good-looking, excited the pity of many\npersons, and she was advised to plead pregnancy, that she might gain at\nleast a respite from death. The poor girl refused proudly, on the\nground that she would not be accounted both a witch and a strumpet.\nHer half-witted old mother caught at the idea of a few weeks' longer\nlife, and asserted that she was pregnant. The court was convulsed with\nlaughter, in which the wretched victim herself joined, and this was\naccounted an additional proof that she was a witch. The whole family\nwere executed on the 7th of April, 1593.\n\nSir Samuel Cromwell, as lord of the manor, received the sum of 40\npounds out of the confiscated property of the Samuels, which he turned\ninto a rent-charge of 40 shillings yearly, for the endowment of an\nannual sermon or lecture upon the enormity of witchcraft, and this case\nin particular, to be preached by a doctor or bachelor of divinity of\nQueen's College, Cambridge. I have not been able to ascertain the exact\ndate at which this annual lecture was discontinued, but it appears to\nhave been preached so late as 1718, when Dr. Hutchinson published his\nwork upon witchcraft.\n\nTo carry on in proper chronological order the history of the witch\ndelusion in the British isles, it will be necessary to examine into\nwhat was taking place in Scotland during all that part of the sixteenth\ncentury anterior to the accession of James VI. to the crown of England.\nWe naturally expect that the Scotch,--a people renowned from the\nearliest times for their powers of imagination,--should be more deeply\nimbued with this gloomy superstition than their neighhours of the\nSouth. The nature of their soil and climate tended to encourage the\ndreams of early ignorance. Ghosts, goblins, wraiths, kelpies, and a\nwhole host of spiritual beings, were familiar to the dwellers by the\nmisty glens of the Highlands and the romantic streams of the Lowlands.\nTheir deeds, whether of good or ill, were enshrined in song, and took a\ngreater hold upon the imagination because \"verse had sanctified them.\"\nBut it was not till the religious reformers began the practice of\nstraining Scripture to the severest extremes, that the arm of the law\nwas called upon to punish witchcraft as a crime per se. What Pope\nInnocent VIII. had done for Germany and France, the preachers of the\nReformation did for the Scottish people. Witchcraft, instead of being a\nmere article of faith, became enrolled in the statute book; and all\ngood subjects and true Christians were called upon to take arms against\nit. The ninth Parliament of Queen Mary passed an act in 1563, which\ndecreed the punishment of death against witches and consulters with\nwitches, and immediately the whole bulk of the people were smitten with\nan epidemic fear of the devil and his mortal agents.  Persons in the\nhighest ranks of life shared and encouraged the delusion of the vulgar.\nMany were themselves accused of witchcraft; and noble ladies were shown\nto have dabbled in mystic arts, and proved to the world that, if they\nwere not witches, it was not for want of the will.\n\nAmong the dames who became notorious for endeavouring to effect their\nwicked ends by the devil's aid, may be mentioned the celebrated Lady\nBuccleugh, of Branxholme, familiar to all the readers of Sir Walter\nScott; the Countess of Lothian, the Countess of Angus, the Countess of\nAthol, Lady Kerr, the Countess of Huntley, Euphemia Macalzean (the\ndaughter of Lord Cliftonhall), and Lady Fowlis. Among the celebrated of\nthe other sex who were accused of wizzardism was Sir Lewis Ballantyne,\nthe Lord Justice Clerk for Scotland, who, if we may believe Scot of\nScotstarvet, \"dealt by curiosity with a warlock called Richard\nGrahame,\" and prayed him to raise the devil. The warlock consented, and\nraised him in propria persona, in the yard of his house in the\nCanongate, \"at sight of whom the Lord Justice Clerk was so terrified\nthat he took sickness and thereof died.\" By such idle reports as these\ndid the envious ruin the reputation of those they hated, though it\nwould appear in this case that Sir Lewis had been fool enough to make\nthe attempt of which he was accused, and that the success of the\nexperiment was the only apocryphal part of the story.\n\nThe enemies of John Knox invented a similar tale, which found ready\ncredence among the Roman Catholics; glad to attach any stigma to that\ngrand scourge of the vices of their church. It was reported that he and\nhis secretary went into the churchyard of St. Andrew's with the intent\nto raise \"some sanctes;\" but that, by a mistake in their conjurations,\nthey raised the great fiend himself, instead of the saints they wished\nto consult. The popular rumour added that Knox's secretary was so\nfrightened at the great horns, goggle eyes, and long tail of Satan,\nthat he went mad, and shortly afterwards died. Knox himself was built\nof sterner stuff, and was not to be frightened.\n\nThe first name that occurs in the records of the High Court of\nJusticiary of persons tried or executed for witchcraft is that of Janet\nBowman, in 1572, nine years after the passing of the act of Mary. No\nparticulars of her crimes are given, and against her name there only\nstand the words, \"convict and brynt.\" It is not, however, to be\ninferred that, in this interval, no trials or executions took place;\nfor it appears on the authority of documents of unquestioned\nauthenticity in the Advocates' Library at Edinburgh, [Foreign Quarterly\nReview, vol. vi. page 41.] that the Privy Council made a practice of\ngranting commissions to resident gentlemen and ministers, in every part\nof Scotland, to examine, try, and execute witches within their own\nparishes. No records of those who suffered from the sentence of these\ntribunals have been preserved; but if popular tradition may be\nbelieved, even to the amount of one-fourth of its assertions, their\nnumber was fearful. After the year 1572, the entries of executions for\nwitchcraft in the records of the High Court become more frequent, but\ndo not average more than one per annum; another proof that trials for\nthis offence were in general entrusted to the local magistracy. The\nlatter appear to have ordered witches to the stake with as little\ncompunction, and after as summary a mode, as modern justices of the\npeace order a poacher to the stocks.\n\nAs James VI. advanced in manhood, he took great interest in the witch\ntrials. One of them especially, that of Gellie Duncan, Dr. Fian, and\ntheir accomplices, in the year 1591, engrossed his whole attention, and\nno doubt suggested in some degree, the famous work on Demonology which\nhe wrote shortly afterwards. As these witches had made an attempt upon\nhis own life, it is not surprising, with his habits, that he should\nhave watched the case closely, or become strengthened in his prejudice\nand superstition by its singular details. No other trial that could be\nselected would give so fair an idea of the delusions of the Scottish\npeople as this. Whether we consider the number of victims, the\nabsurdity of the evidence, and the real villany of some of the persons\nimplicated, it is equally extraordinary.\n\nGellie Duncan, the prime witch in these proceedings, was servant to the\nDeputy Bailiff of Tranent, a small town in Hadingtonshire, about ten\nmiles from Edinburgh. Though neither old nor ugly (as witches usually\nwere), but young and good-looking, her neighbours, from some suspicious\nparts of her behaviour, had long considered her a witch. She had, it\nappears, some pretensions to the healing art. Some cures which she\neffected were so sudden, that the worthy Bailiff, her master, who, like\nhis neighbours, mistrusted her, considered them no less than\nmiraculous. In order to discover the truth, he put her to the torture;\nbut she obstinately refused to confess that she had dealings with the\ndevil. It was the popular belief that no witch would confess as long as\nthe mark which Satan had put upon her remained undiscovered upon her\nbody. Somebody present reminded the torturing Bailie of this fact, and\non examination, the devil's mark was found upon the throat of poor\nGellie. She was put to the torture again, and her fortitude giving way\nunder the extremity of her anguish, she confessed that she was indeed a\nwitch--that she had sold her soul to the devil, and effected all her\ncures by his aid. This was something new in the witch creed, according\nto which, the devil delighted more in laying diseases on, than in\ntaking them off; but Gellie Duncan fared no better on that account. The\ntorture was still applied, until she had named all her accomplices,\namong whom were one Cunningham, a reputed wizard, known by the name of\nDr. Fian, a grave and matron-like witch, named Agnes Sampson, Euphemia\nMacalzean, the daughter of Lord Cliftonhall, already mentioned, and\nnearly forty other persons, some of whom were the wives of respectable\nindividuals in the city of Edinburgh. Every one of these persons was\narrested, and the whole realm of Scotland thrown into commotion by the\nextraordinary nature of the disclosures which were anticipated.\n\nAbout two years previous to this time, James had suddenly left his\nkingdom, and proceeded gallantly to Denmark, to fetch over his bride,\nthe Princess of Denmark, who had been detained by contrary weather in\nthe harbour of Upslo. After remaining for some months in Copenhagen, he\nset sail with his young bride, and arrived safely in Leith, on the 1st\nof May 1590, having experienced a most boisterous passage, and been\nnearly wrecked. As soon as the arrest of Gellie Duncan and Fian became\nknown in Scotland, it was reported by everybody who pretended to be\nwell-informed that these witches and their associates had, by the\ndevil's means, raised the storms which had endangered the lives of the\nKing and Queen. Gellie, in her torture, had confessed that such was the\nfact, and the whole kingdom waited aghast and open-mouthed for the\ncorroboration about to be furnished by the trial.\n\nAgnes Sampson, the \"grave and matron-like\" witch implicated by Gellie\nDuncan, was put to the horrible torture of the pilliewinkis.  She laid\nbare all the secrets of the sisterhood before she had suffered an hour,\nand confessed that Gellie Duncan, Dr. Fian, Marion Lineup, Euphemia\nMacalzean, herself, and upwards of two hundred witches and warlocks,\nused to assemble at midnight in the kirk of North Berwick, where they\nmet the devil; that they had plotted there to attempt the King's life;\nthat they were incited to this by the old fiend himself, who had\nasserted with a thundering oath that James was the greatest enemy he\never had, and that there would be no peace for the devil's children\nupon earth until he were got rid of; that the devil upon these\noccasions always liked to have a little music, and that Gellie Duncan\nused to play a reel before him on a trump or Jew's harp, to which all\nthe witches danced.\n\nJames was highly flattered at the idea that the devil should have said\nthat he was the greatest enemy he ever had. He sent for Gellie Duncan\nto the palace, and made her play before him the same reel which she had\nplayed at the witches' dance in the kirk.\n\nDr. Fian, or rather Cunningham, a petty schoolmaster at Tranent, was\nput to the torture among the rest. He was a man who had led an infamous\nlife, was a compounder of and dealer in poisons, and a pretender to\nmagic. Though not guilty of the preposterous crimes laid to his charge,\nthere is no doubt that he was a sorcerer in will, though not in deed,\nand that he deserved all the misery he endured.  When put on the rack,\nhe would confess nothing, and held out so long unmoved, that the severe\ntorture of the boots was resolved upon. He endured this till exhausted\nnature could bear no longer, when Insensibility kindly stepped in to\nhis aid. When it was seen that he was utterly powerless, and that his\ntongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth, he was released. Restoratives\nwere administered; and during the first faint gleam of returning\nconsciousness, he was prevailed upon to sign, ere he well knew what he\nwas about, a full confession, in strict accordance with those of Gellie\nDuncan and Agnes Sampson. He was then remanded to his prison, from\nwhich, after two days, he managed, somehow or other, to escape. He was\nsoon recaptured, and brought before the Court of Justiciary, James\nhimself being present. Fian now denied all the circumstances of the\nwritten confession which he had signed; whereupon the King, enraged at\nhis \"stubborn wilfulness,\" ordered him once more to the torture. His\nfinger nails were riven out with pincers, and long needles thrust up to\nthe eye into the quick; but still he did not wince. He was then\nconsigned again to the boots, in which, to quote a pamphlet published\nat the time, [News from Scotland, declaring the damnable life of Dr.\nFian.] he continued \"so long, and abode so many blows in them, that his\nlegs were crushed and beaten together as small as might be, and the\nbones and flesh so bruised, that the blood and marrow spouted forth in\ngreat abundance, whereby they were made unserviceable for ever.\"\n\nThe astonishing similarity of the confessions of all the persons\nimplicated in these proceedings has often been remarked. It would\nappear that they actually endeavoured to cause the King's death by\ntheir spells and sorceries. Fian, who was acquainted with all the usual\ntricks of his profession, deceived them with pretended apparitions, so\nthat many of them were really convinced that they had seen the devil.\nThe sum of their confessions was to the following effect:--\n\nSatan, who was, of course, a great foe of the reformed religion, was\nalarmed that King James should marry a Protestant princess. To avert\nthe consequences to the realms of evil, he had determined to put an end\nto the King and his bride by raising a storm on their voyage home.\nSatan, first of all, sent a thick mist over the waters, in the hope\nthat the King's vessel might be stranded on the coast amid the\ndarkness. This failing, Dr. Fian, who, from his superior scholarship,\nwas advanced to the dignity of the devil's secretary, was commanded to\nsummon all the witches to meet their master, each one sailing on a\nsieve on the high seas.\n\nOn All-hallowmas Eve, they assembled to the number of upwards of two\nhundred, including Gellie Duncan, Agnes Sampson, Euphemia Macalzean,\none Barbara Napier, and several warlocks; and each embarking in a\nriddle, or sieve, they sailed \"over the ocean very substantially.\"\nAfter cruising about for some time, they met with the fiend, bearing in\nhis claws a cat, which had been previously drawn nine times through the\nfire. This he delivered to one of the warlocks, telling him to cast it\ninto the sea, and cry \"Hola!\" This was done with all solemnity, and\nimmediately the ocean became convulsed--the waters hissed loudly, and\nthe waves rose mountains high,\n\n  \"Twisting their arms to the dun-coloured heaven.\"\n\nThe witches sailed gallantly through the tempest they had raised, and\nlanding on the coast of Scotland, took their sieves in their hands, and\nmarched on in procession to the haunted kirk of North Berwick, where\nthe devil had resolved to hold a preaching. Gellie Duncan, the musician\nof the party, tripped on before, playing on her Jew's harp, and singing,\n\n  \"Cummer, go ye before, Cummer, go ye;\n  Gif ye will not go before, Cummer, let me!\"\n\nArrived at the kirk, they paced around it withershins, that is, in\nreverse of the apparent motion of the sun. Dr. Fian then blew into the\nkey-hole of the door, which opened immediately, and all the witches\nentered. As it was pitch dark, Fian blew with his mouth upon the\ncandles, which immediately lighted, and the devil was seen occupying\nthe pulpit. He was attired in a black gown and hat, and the witches\nsaluted him, by crying, \"All hail, master!\" His body was hard, like\niron; his face terrible; his nose, like the beak of an eagle; he had\ngreat burning eyes; his hands and legs were hairy; and he had long\nclaws upon his hands and feet, and spake with an exceedingly gruff\nvoice. Before commencing his sermon, he called over the names of his\ncongregation, demanding whether they had been good servants, and what\nsuccess had attended their operations against the life of the King and\nhis bride.\n\nGray Meill, a crazy old warlock, who acted as beadle or doorkeeper, was\nsilly enough to answer, \"that nothing ailed the King yet, God be\nthanked;\" upon which the devil, in a rage, stepped down from the\npulpit, and boxed his ears for him. He then remounted, and commenced\nthe preaching, commanding them to be dutiful servants to him, and do\nall the evil they could. Euphemia Macalzean and Agnes Sampson, bolder\nthan the rest, asked him whether he had brought the image or picture of\nKing James, that they might, by pricking it, cause pains and diseases\nto fall upon him. \"The father of lies\" spoke truth for once, and\nconfessed that he had forgotten it; upon which Euphemia Macalzean\nupbraided him loudly for his carelessness. The devil, however, took it\nall in good part, although Agnes Sampson and several other women let\nloose their tongues at him immediately. When they had done scolding, he\ninvited them all to a grand entertainment. A newly buried corpse was\ndug up, and divided among them, which was all they had in the way of\nedibles. He was more liberal in the matter of drink, and gave them so\nmuch excellent wine that they soon became jolly.  Gellie Duncan then\nplayed the old tune upon her trump, and the devil himself led off the\ndance with Euphemia Mac alzean. Thus they kept up the sport till the\ncock crew.\n\nAgnes Sampson, the wise woman of Keith, as she was called, added some\nother particulars in her confession. She stated, that on a previous\noccasion, she had raised an awful tempest in the sea, by throwing a cat\ninto it, with four joints of men tied to its feet. She said also, that\non their grand attempt to drown King James, they did not meet with the\ndevil after cruising about, but that he had accompanied them from the\nfirst, and that she had seen him dimly in the distance, rolling himself\nbefore them over the great waves, in shape and size not unlike a huge\nhaystack. They met with a foreign ship richly laden with wines and\nother good things, which they boarded, and sunk after they had drunk\nall the wine, and made themselves quite merry.\n\nSome of these disclosures were too much even for the abundant faith of\nKing James, and he more than once exclaimed, that the witches were like\ntheir master, \"extreme lyars.\" But they confessed many other things of\na less preposterous nature, and of which they were, no doubt, really\nguilty. Agnes Sampson said she was to have taken the King's life by\nanointing his linen with a strong poison. Gellie Duncan used to\nthreaten her neighbours by saying she would send the devil after them;\nand many persons of weaker minds than usual were frightened into fits\nby her, and rendered subject to them for the remainder of their lives.\nDr. Finn also made no scruple in aiding and abetting murder, and would\nrid any person of an enemy by means of poison, who could pay him his\nfee for it. Euphemia Macalzean also was far from being pure. There is\nno doubt that she meditated the King's death, and used such means to\ncompass it as the superstition of the age directed. She was a devoted\npartizan of Bothwell, who was accused by many of the witches as having\nconsulted them on the period of the King's death. They were all found\nguilty, and sentenced to be hanged and burned. Barbara Napier, though\nfound guilty upon other counts, was acquitted upon the charge of having\nbeen present at the great witch-meeting in Berwick kirk. The King was\nhighly displeased, and threatened to have the jury indicted for a\nwilful error upon an assize. They accordingly reconsidered their\nverdict, and threw themselves upon the King's mercy for the fault they\nhad committed.  James was satisfied, and Barbara Napier was hanged\nalong with Gellie Duncan, Agnes Sampson, Dr. Fian, and five-and-twenty\nothers. Euphemia Macalzean met a harder fate. Her connexion with the\nbold and obnoxious Bothwell, and her share in poisoning one or two\nindividuals who had stood in her way, were thought deserving of the\nseverest punishment the law could inflict. Instead of the ordinary\nsentence, directing the criminal to be first strangled and then burned,\nthe wretched woman was doomed \"to be bound to a stake, and burned in\nashes, quick to the death.\" This cruel sentence was executed on the\n25th of June 1591.\n\nThese trials had the most pernicious consequences all over Scotland.\nThe lairds and ministers in their districts, armed with due power from\nthe privy council, tried and condemned old women after the most summary\nfashion. Those who still clung to the ancient faith of Rome were the\nseverest sufferers, as it was thought, after the disclosures of the\nfierce enmity borne by the devil towards a Protestant King and his\nProtestant wife, that all the Catholics were leagued with the powers of\nevil to work woe on the realm of Scotland.  Upon a very moderate\ncalculation, it is presumed that from the passing of the act of Queen\nMary till the accession of James to the throne of England, a period of\nthirty-nine years, the average number of executions for witchcraft in\nScotland was two hundred annually, or upwards of seventeen thousand\naltogether. For the first nine years the number was not one quarter so\ngreat; but towards the years 1590 to 1593, the number must have been\nmore than four hundred. The case last cited was one of an extraordinary\ncharacter. The general aspect of the trials will be better seen from\nthat of Isabel Gowdie, which, as it would be both wearisome and\ndisgusting to go through them all, is cited as a fair specimen,\nalthough it took place at a date somewhat later than the reign of\nJames. This woman, wearied of her life by the persecutions of her\nneighbours, voluntarily gave herself up to justice, and made a\nconfession, embodying the whole witch-creed of the period. She was\nundoubtedly a monomaniac of the most extraordinary kind. She said that\nshe deserved to be stretched upon an iron rack, and that her crimes\ncould never be atoned for, even if she were to be drawn asunder by wild\nhorses. She named a long list of her associates, including nearly fifty\nwomen and a few warlocks. They dug up the graves of unchristened\ninfants, whose limbs were serviceable in their enchantments. When they\nwanted to destroy the crops of an enemy, they yoked toads to his\nplough, and on the following night Satan himself ploughed the land with\nhis team, and blasted it for the season. The witches had power to\nassume almost any shape; but they generally chose either that of a cat\nor a hare, oftenest the latter. Isabel said, that on one occasion, when\nshe was in this disguise, she was sore pressed by a pack of hounds, and\nhad a very narrow escape with her life. She reached her own door at\nlast, feeling the hot breath of the pursuing dogs at her haunches. She\nmanaged, however, to hide herself behind a chest, and got time to\npronounce the magic words that could alone restore her to her proper\nshape. They were:--\n\n  \"Hare! hare!\n  God send thee care!\n     I am in a hare's likeness now;\n     But I shall be a woman e'en now!\n  Hare! hare!\n  God send thee care!\"\n\nIf witches, when in this shape, were bitten by the dogs, they always\nretained the marks in their human form; but she had never heard that\nany witch had been bitten to death. When the devil appointed any\ngeneral meeting of the witches, the custom was that they should proceed\nthrough the air mounted on broomsticks, or on corn or bean-straws,\npronouncing as they went:--\n\n  \"Horse and partook, horse and go,\n  Horse and pellats, ho! ho! ho!\"\n\nThey generally left behind them a broom, or a three-legged stool,\nwhich, when placed in their beds and duly charmed, assumed the human\nshape till their return. This was done that the neighhours might not\nknow when they were absent.\n\nShe added, that the devil furnished his favourite witches with servant\nimps to attend upon them. These imps were called \"The Roaring Lion,\"\n\"Thief of Hell,\" \"Wait-upon-Herself,\" \"Ranting Roarer,\"\n\"Care-for-Naught,\" &c. and were known by their liveries, which were\ngenerally yellow, sad-dun, sea-green, pea-green, or grass-green. Satan\nnever called the witches by the names they had received at baptism;\nneither were they allowed, in his presence, so to designate each other.\nSuch a breach of the infernal etiquette assuredly drew down his most\nsevere displeasure. But as some designation was necessary, he\nre-baptized them in their own blood by the names of \"Able-and-Stout,\"\n\"Over-the-dike-with-it,\" \"Raise-the-wind,\" \"Pickle-nearest-the-wind,\"\n\"Batter-them-down-Maggy,\" \"Blow-Kale,\" and such like. The devil himself\nwas not very particular what name they called him so that it was not\n\"Black John.\" If any witch was unthinking enough to utter these words,\nhe would rush out upon her, and beat and buffet her unmercifully, or\ntear her flesh with a wool-card. Other names he did not care about; and\nonce gave instructions to a noted warlock that whenever he wanted his\naid, he was to strike the ground three times and exclaim, \"Rise up,\nfoul thief!\"\n\nUpon this confession many persons were executed. So strong was the\npopular feeling, that no one once accused of witchcraft was acquitted;\nat least, acquittals did not average one in a hundred trials.\nWitch-finding, or witch-pricking became a trade, and a set of mercenary\nvagabonds roamed about the country, provided with long pins to run into\nthe flesh of supposed criminals. It was no unusual thing then, nor is\nit now, that in aged persons there should be some spot on the body\ntotally devoid of feeling. It was the object of the witchpricker to\ndiscover this spot, and the unhappy wight who did not bleed when\npricked upon it, was doomed to the death. If not immediately cast into\nprison, her life was rendered miserable by the persecution of her\nneighbours. It is recorded of many poor women, that the annoyances they\nendured in this way were so excessive, that they preferred death. Sir\nGeorge Mackenzie, the Lord Advocate, at the time when witch-trials were\nso frequent, and himself a devout believer in the crime, relates, in\nhis \"Criminal Law,\" first published in 1678, some remarkable instances\nof it. He says, \"I went, when I was a justice-depute, to examine some\nwomen who had confessed judicially: and one of them, who was a silly\ncreature, told me, under secrecy, that she had not confessed because\nshe was guilty, but being a poor creature who wrought for her meat, and\nbeing defamed for a witch, she knew she should starve; for no person\nthereafter would either give her meat or lodging, and that all men\nwould beat her and set dogs at her; and that, therefore, she desired to\nbe out of the world; whereupon she wept most bitterly, and upon her\nknees called God to witness to what she said.\" Sir George, though not\nwholly elevated above the prejudices of his age upon this subject, was\nclearsighted enough to see the danger to society of the undue\nencouragement given to the witch-prosecutions. He was convinced that\nthree-fourths of them were unjust and unfounded. He says, in the work\nalready quoted, that the persons who were in general accused of this\ncrime, were poor ignorant men and women, who did not understand the\nnature of the accusation, and who mistook their own superstitious fears\nfor witchcraft. One poor wretch, a weaver, confessed that he was a\nwarlock, and, being asked why, he replied, because \"he had seen the\ndevil dancing, like a fly, about the candle!\" A simple woman, who,\nbecause she was called a witch, believed that she was, asked the judge\nupon the bench, whether a person might be a witch and not know it? Sir\nGeorge adds, that all the supposed criminals were subjected to severe\ntorture in prison from their gaolers, who thought they did God good\nservice by vexing and tormenting them; \"and I know,\" says this humane\nand enlightened magistrate, \"that this usage was the ground of all\ntheir confession; and albeit, the poor miscreants cannot prove this\nusage, the actors in it being the only witnesses, yet the judge should\nbe jealous of it, as that which did at first elicit the confession, and\nfor fear of which they dare not retract it.\" Another author, [\"Satan's\nInvisible World discovered,\" by the Rev. G. Sinclair.] also a firm\nbeliever in witchcraft, gives a still more lamentable instance of a\nwoman who preferred execution as a witch to live on under the\nimputation. This woman, who knew that three others were to be strangled\nand burned on an early day, sent for the minister of the parish, and\nconfessed that she had sold her soul to Satan. \"Whereupon being called\nbefore the judges, she was condemned to die with the rest. Being\ncarried forth to the place of execution, she remained silent during the\nfirst, second, and third prayer, and then, perceiving that there\nremained no more but to rise and go to the stake, she lifted up her\nbody, and, with a loud voice, cried out, \"Now all you that see me this\nday, know that I am now to die as a witch, by my own confession, and I\nfree all men, especially the ministers and magistrates, of the guilt of\nmy blood. I take it wholly upon myself. My blood be upon my own head.\nAnd, as I must make answer to the God of heaven presently, I declare I\nam as free of witchcraft as any child. But, being delated by a\nmalicious woman, and put in prison under the name of a witch, disowned\nby my husband and friends, and seeing no ground of hope of ever coming\nout again, I made up that confession to destroy my own life, being\nweary of it, and choosing rather to die than to live.\" As a proof of\nthe singular obstinacy and blindness of the believers in witches, it\nmay be stated, that the minister who relates this story only saw in the\ndying speech of the unhappy woman an additional proof that she was a\nwitch. True indeed is it, that \"none are so blind as those who will not\nsee.\"\n\nIt is time, however, to return to James VI, who is fairly entitled to\nshare with Pope Innocent, Sprenger, Bodinus, and Matthew Hopkins the\nglory or the odium of being at the same time a chief enemy and chief\nencourager of witchcraft. Towards the close of the sixteenth century,\nmany learned men, both on the Continent and in the isles of Britain,\nhad endeavoured to disabuse the public mind on this subject.  The most\ncelebrated were Wierus in Germany, Pietro d'Apone in Italy, and\nReginald Scot in England. Their works excited the attention of the\nzealous James, who, mindful of the involuntary compliment which his\nmerits had extorted from the devil, was ambitious to deserve it by\nstill continuing \"his greatest enemie.\" In the year 1597 he published,\nin Edinburgh, his famous treatise on Demonology. Its design may be\ngathered from the following passage in the introduction. \"The fearful\nabounding,\" says the King, \"at this time, and in this country, of these\ndetestable slaves of the devil, the witches, or enchanters, hath moved\nme, beloved reader, to despatch in post this following treatise of\nmine, not in any wise, as I protest, to serve for a show of mine own\nlearning and ingene (ingenuity), but only (moved of conscience) to\npress thereby, so far as I can, to resolve the doubting hearts of many;\nboth that such assaults of Satan are most certainly practised, and that\nthe instrument thereof merits most severely to be punished, against the\ndamnable opinions of two, principally in our age, whereof the one,\ncalled Scot, an Englishman, is not ashamed, in public print, to deny\nthat there can be such thing as witchcraft, and so maintains the old\nerror of the Sadducees, in denying of spirits. The other, called\nWierus, a German physician, sets out a public apology for all these\ncrafts-folks, whereby procuring for them impunity, he plainly betrays\nhimself to have been one of that profession.\" In other parts of this\ntreatise, which the author had put into the form of a dialogue to \"make\nit more pleasant and facile,\" he says, \"Witches ought to be put to\ndeath, according to the law of God, the civil and imperial law, and the\nmunicipal law of all Christian nations: yea, to spare the life, and not\nstrike whom God bids strike, and so severely punish in so odious a\ntreason against God, is not only unlawful, but doubtless as great a sin\nin the magistrate, as was Saul's sparing Agag.\" He says also, that the\ncrime is so abominable, that it may be proved by evidence which would\nnot be received against any other offenders,--young children, who knew\nnot the nature of an oath, and persons of an infamous character, being\nsufficient witnesses against them; but lest the innocent should be\naccused of a crime so difficult to be acquitted of, he recommends that\nin all cases the ordeal should be resorted to.  He says, \"Two good\nhelps may be used: the one is, the finding of their mark, and the\ntrying the insensibleness thereof; the other is their floating on the\nwater; for, as in a secret murther, if the dead carcass be at any time\nthereafter handled by the murtherer, it will gush out of blood, as if\nthe blood were crying to Heaven for revenge of the murtherer, (God\nhaving appointed that secret supernatural sign for trial of that secret\nunnatural crime); so that it appears that God hath appointed (for a\nsupernatural sign of the monstrous impiety of witches) that the water\nshall refuse to receive them in her bosom, that have shaken off them\nthe sacred water of baptism, and wilfully refused the benefit thereof;\nno, not so much as their eyes are able to shed tears (threaten and\ntorture them as you please), while first they repent (God not\npermitting them to dissemble their obstinacy in so horrible a crime).\nAlbeit, the womenkind especially, be able otherwise to shed tears at\nevery light occasion, when they will; yea, although it were\ndissembling, like the crocodiles.\"\n\nWhen such doctrines as these were openly promulgated by the highest\nauthority in the realm, and who, in promulgating them, flattered, but\ndid not force the public opinion, it is not surprising that the sad\ndelusion should have increased and multiplied, until the race of\nwizards and witches replenished the earth. The reputation which he lost\nby being afraid of a naked sword, he more than regained by his courage\nin combating the devil. The Kirk showed itself a most zealous\ncoadjutor, especially during those halcyon days when it was not at\nissue with the King upon other matters of doctrine and prerogative.\n\nOn his accession to the throne of England, in 1603, James came amongst\na people who had heard with admiration of his glorious deeds against\nthe witches. He himself left no part of his ancient prejudices behind\nhim, and his advent was the signal for the persecution to burst forth\nin England with a fury equal to that in Scotland. It had languished a\nlittle during the latter years of the reign of Elizabeth; but the very\nfirst Parliament of King James brought forward the subject. James was\nflattered by their promptitude, and the act passed in 1604. On the\nsecond reading in the House of Lords, the bill passed into a committee,\nin which were twelve bishops. By it was enacted, \"That if any person\nshall use, practise, or exercise any conjuration of any wicked or evil\nspirit, or shall consult, covenant with, or feed any such spirit, the\nfirst offence to be imprisonment for a year and standing in the pillory\nonce a quarter; the second offence to be death.\"\n\nThe minor punishment seems but rarely to have been inflicted.  Every\nrecord that has been preserved, mentions that the witches were hanged\nand burned, or burned without the previous strangling, \"alive and\nquick.\" During the whole of James's reign, amid the civil wars of his\nsuccessor, the sway of the Long Parliament, the usurpation of Cromwell,\nand the reign of Charles II, there was no abatement of the persecution.\nIf at any time it raged with less virulence, it was when Cromwell and\nthe Independents were masters. Dr. Zachary Grey, the editor of an\nedition of \"Hudibras,\" informs us, in a note to that work, that he\nhimself perused a list of three thousand witches who were executed in\nthe time of the Long Parliament alone. During the first eighty years of\nthe seventeenth century, the number executed has been estimated at five\nhundred annually, making the frightful total of forty thousand. Some of\nthese cases deserve to be cited. The great majority resemble closely\nthose already mentioned, but two or three of them let in a new light\nupon the popular superstition.\n\nEvery one has heard of the \"Lancashire witches,\" a phrase now used to\ncompliment the ladies of that county for their bewitching beauty; but\nit is not every one who has heard the story in which it originated. A\nvillainous boy, named Robinson, was the chief actor in the tragedy. He\nconfessed, many years afterwards, that he had been suborned by his\nfather and other persons to give false evidence against the unhappy\nwitches whom he brought to the stake. The time of this famous trial was\nabout the year 1634. This boy Robinson, whose father was a wood-cutter,\nresiding on the borders of Pendle Forest, in Lancashire, spread abroad\nmany rumours against one Mother Dickenson, whom he accused of being a\nwitch. These rumours coming to the ears of the local magistracy, the\nboy was sent for, and strictly examined. He told the following\nextraordinary story, without hesitation or prevarication, and\napparently in so open and honest a manner, that no one who heard him\ndoubted the truth of it:--He said, that as he was roaming about in one\nof the glades of the forest, amusing himself by gathering blackberries,\nhe saw two greyhounds before him, which he thought at the time belonged\nto some gentleman of the neighbourhood.  Being fond of sport, he\nproposed to have a course, and a hare being started, he incited the\nhounds to run. Neither of them would stir.  Angry at the beasts, he\nseized hold of a switch, with which he was about to punish them, when\none of them suddenly started up in the form of a woman, and the other,\nof a little boy. He at once recognised the woman to be the witch Mother\nDickenson. She offered him some money to induce him to sell his soul to\nthe devil; but he refused. Upon this she took a bridle out of her\npocket, and, shaking it over the head of the other little boy, he was\ninstantly turned into a horse. Mother Dickenson then seized him in her\narms, sprang upon the horse; and, placing him before her, rode with the\nswiftness of the wind over forests, fields, bogs, and rivers, until\nthey came to a large barn.  The witch alighted at the door; and taking\nhim by the hand, led him inside. There he saw seven old women, pulling\nat seven halters which hung from the roof. As they pulled, large pieces\nof meat, lumps of butter, loaves of bread, basins of milk, hot\npuddings, black puddings, and other rural dainties, fell from the\nhalters on to the floor. While engaged in this charm they made such\nugly faces, and looked so fiendish, that he was quite frightened. After\nthey had pulled, in this manner enough for an ample feast, they set-to,\nand showed, whatever might be said of the way in which their supper was\nprocured, that their epicurism was a little more refined than that of\nthe Scottish witches, who, according to Gellie Duncan's confession,\nfeasted upon dead men's flesh in the old kirk of Berwick. The boy\nadded, that as soon as supper was ready, many other witches came to\npartake of it, several of whom he named. In consequence of this story,\nmany persons were arrested, and the boy Robinson was led about from\nchurch to church, in order that he might point out to the officers, by\nwhom he was accompanied, the hags he had seen in the barn. Altogether\nabout twenty persons were thrown into prison; eight of them were\ncondemned to die, including Mother Dickenson, upon this evidence alone,\nand executed accordingly. Among the wretches who concocted this notable\nstory, not one was ever brought to justice for his perjury; and\nRobinson, the father, gained considerable sums by threatening persons\nwho were rich enough to buy off exposure.\n\nAmong the ill weeds which flourished amid the long dissensions of the\ncivil war, Matthew Hopkins, the witch-finder, stands eminent in his\nsphere. This vulgar fellow resided, in the year 1644, at the town of\nManningtree, in Essex, and made himself very conspicuous in discovering\nthe devil's marks upon several unhappy witches. The credit he gained by\nhis skill in this instance seems to have inspired him to renewed\nexertions. In the course of a very short time, whenever a witch was\nspoken of in Essex, Matthew Hopkins was sure to be present, aiding the\njudges with his knowledge of \"such cattle,\" as he called them. As his\nreputation increased, he assumed the title of \"Witchfinder General,\"\nand travelled through the counties of Norfolk, Essex, Huntingdon, and\nSussex, for the sole purpose of finding out witches. In one year he\nbrought sixty poor creatures to the stake. The test he commonly adopted\nwas that of swimming, so highly recommended by King James in his\n\"Demonologie.\" The hands and feet of the suspected persons were tied\ntogether crosswise, the thumb of the right hand to the toe of the left\nfoot, and vice versa. They were then wrapped up in a large sheet or\nblanket, and laid upon their backs in a pond or river. If they sank,\ntheir friends and relatives had the poor consolation of knowing they\nwere innocent, but there was an end of them: if they floated, which,\nwhen laid carefully on the water was generally the case, there was also\nan end of them; for they were deemed guilty of witchcraft, and burned\naccordingly.\n\nAnother test was to make them repeat the Lord's prayer and creed.  It\nwas affirmed that no witch could do so correctly. If she missed a word,\nor even pronounced one incoherently, which in her trepidation, it was\nmost probable she would, she was accounted guilty. It was thought that\nwitches could not weep more than three tears, and those only from the\nleft eye. Thus the conscious innocence of many persons, which gave them\nfortitude to bear unmerited torture without flinching, was construed by\ntheir unmerciful tormentors into proofs of guilt. In some districts the\ntest resorted to was to weigh the culprit against the church Bible. If\nthe suspected witch proved heavier than the Bible, she was set at\nliberty. This mode was far too humane for the witch-finders by\nprofession. Hopkins always maintained that the most legitimate modes\nwere pricking and swimming.\n\nHopkins used to travel through his counties like a man of\nconsideration, attended by his two assistants, always putting up at the\nchief inn of the place, and always at the cost of the authorities.  His\ncharges were twenty shillings a town, his expenses of living while\nthere, and his carriage thither and back. This he claimed whether he\nfound witches or not. If he found any, he claimed twenty shillings a\nhead in addition when they were brought to execution. For about three\nyears he carried on this infamous trade, success making him so insolent\nand rapacious, that high and low became his enemies. The Rev.  Mr.\nGaul, a clergyman of Houghton, in Huntingdonshire, wrote a pamphlet\nimpugning his pretensions, and accusing him of being a common nuisance.\nHopkins replied in an angry letter to the functionaries of Houghton,\nstating his intention to visit their town; but desiring to know whether\nit afforded many such sticklers for witchcraft as Mr. Gaul, and whether\nthey were willing to receive and entertain him with the customary\nhospitality, if he so far honoured them. He added, by way of threat,\nthat in case he did not receive a satisfactory reply, \"He would waive\ntheir shire altogether, and betake himself to such places where he\nmight do and punish, not only without control, but with thanks and\nrecompence.\" The authorities of Houghton were not much alarmed at his\nawful threat of letting them alone. They very wisely took no notice\neither of him or his letter.\n\nMr. Gaul describes in his pamphlet one of the modes employed by\nHopkins, which was sure to swell his revenues very considerably. It was\na proof even more atrocious than the swimming. He says, that the\n\"Witch-finder General\" used to take the suspected witch and place her\nin the middle of a room, upon a stool or table, cross-legged, or in\nsome other uneasy posture. If she refused to sit in this manner, she\nwas bound with strong cords. Hopkins then placed persons to watch her\nfor four-and-twenty hours, during which time she was to be kept without\nmeat or drink. It was supposed that one of her imps would come during\nthat interval, and suck her blood. As the imp might come in the shape\nof a wasp, a moth, a fly, or other insect, a hole was made in the door\nor window to let it enter. The watchers were ordered to keep a sharp\nlook-out, and endeavour to kill any insect that appeared in the room.\nIf any fly escaped, and they could not kill it, the woman was guilty;\nthe fly was her imp, and she was sentenced to be burned, and twenty\nshillings went into the pockets of Master Hopkins. In this manner he\nmade one old woman confess, because four flies had appeared in the\nroom, that she was attended by four imps, named \"Ilemazar,\"\n\"Pye-wackett,\" \"Peck-in-the-crown,\" and \"Grizel-Greedigut.\"\n\nIt is consoling to think that this impostor perished in his own snare.\nMr. Gaul's exposure and his own rapacity weakened his influence among\nthe magistrates; and the populace, who began to find that not even the\nmost virtuous and innocent were secure from his persecution, looked\nupon him with undisguised aversion. He was beset by a mob, at a village\nin Suffolk, and accused of being himself a wizard. An old reproach was\nbrought against him, that he had, by means of sorcery, cheated the\ndevil out of a certain memorandum-book, in which he, Satan, had entered\nthe names of all the witches in England. \"Thus,\" said the populace,\n\"you find out witches, not by God's aid, but by the devil's.\" In vain\nhe denied his guilt. The populace longed to put him to his own test. He\nwas speedily stripped, and his thumbs and toes tied together. He was\nthen placed in a blanket, and cast into a pond.  Some say that he\nfloated; and that he was taken out, tried, and executed upon no other\nproof of his guilt. Others assert that he was drowned. This much is\npositive, that there was an end of him. As no judicial entry of his\ntrial and execution is to be found in any register, it appears most\nprobable that he expired by the hands of the mob. Butler has\nimmortalized this scamp in the following lines of his \"Hudibras:\"--\n\n  \"Hath not this present Parliament\n  A lieger to the devil sent,\n  Fully empower'd to treat about\n  Finding revolted witches out?\n  And has he not within a year\n  Hang'd threescore of them in one shire?\n  Some only for not being drown'd,\n  And some for sitting above ground\n  Whole days and nights upon their breeches,\n  And feeling pain, were hang'd for witches;\n  And some for putting knavish tricks\n  Upon green geese or turkey chicks;\n  Or pigs that suddenly deceased\n  Of griefs unnatural, as he guess'd;\n  Who proved himself at length a witch,\n  And made a rod for his own breech.\"\n\nIn Scotland also witch-finding became a trade. They were known under\nthe designation of \"common prickers,\" and, like Hopkins, received a fee\nfor each witch they discovered. At the trial of Janet Peaston, in 1646,\nthe magistrates of Dalkeith \"caused John Kincaid, of Tranent, the\ncommon pricker, to exercise his craft upon her. He found two marks of\nthe devil's making; for she could not feel the pin when it was put into\neither of the said marks, nor did the marks bleed when the pin was\ntaken out again. When she was asked where she thought the pins were put\nin her, she pointed to a part of her body distant from the real place.\nThey were pins of three inches in length.\" [Pitcairn's \"Records of\nJusticiary.\"]\n\nThese common prickers became at last so numerous, that they were\nconsidered nuisances. The judges refused to take their evidence, and in\n1678 the privy council of Scotland condescended to hear the complaint\nof an honest woman, who had been indecently exposed by one of them, and\nexpressed their opinion that common prickers were common cheats.\n\nBut such an opinion was not formed in high places before hundreds of\ninnocent persons had fallen victims. The Parliaments had encouraged the\ndelusion both in England and Scotland; and, by arming these fellows\nwith a sort of authority, had in a manner forced the magistrates and\nministers to receive their evidence. The fate of one poor old\ngentleman, who fell a victim to the arts of Hopkins in 1646, deserves\nto be recorded. Mr. Louis, a venerable clergyman, upwards of seventy\nyears of age, and who had been rector of Framlingham, in Suffolk, for\nfifty years, excited suspicion that he was a wizard.  Being a violent\nroyalist, he was likely to meet with no sympathy at that time; and even\nhis own parishioners, whom he had served so long and so faithfully,\nturned their backs upon him as soon as he was accused. Placed under the\nhands of Hopkins, who knew so well how to bring the refractory to\nconfession, the old man, the light of whose intellect had become\nsomewhat dimmed from age, confessed that he was a wizard. He said he\nhad two imps, that continually excited him to do evil; and that one\nday, when he was walking on the sea-coast, one of them prompted him to\nexpress a wish that a ship, whose sails were just visible in the\ndistance, might sink. He consented, and saw the vessel sink before his\neyes. He was, upon this confession, tried and condemned. On his trial\nthe flame of reason burned up as brightly as ever. He denied all that\nhad been alleged against him, and cross-examined Hopkins with great\ntact and severity. After his condemnation, he begged that the funeral\nservice of the church might be read for him. The request was refused,\nand he repeated it for himself from memory, as he was led to the\nscaffold.\n\nA poor woman in Scotland was executed upon evidence even less strong\nthan this. John Bain, a common pricker, swore that, as he passed her\ndoor, he heard her talking to the devil. She said in defence, that it\nwas a foolish practice she had of talking to herself, and several of\nher neighbours corroborated her statement; but the evidence of the\npricker was received. He swore that none ever talked to themselves who\nwere not witches. The devil's mark being found upon her, the additional\ntestimony of her guilt was deemed conclusive, and she was \"convict and\nbrynt.\"\n\nFrom the year 1652 to 1682, these trials diminished annually in number,\nand acquittals were by no means so rare as they had been. To doubt in\nwitchcraft was no longer dangerous. Before country justices,\ncondemnations on the most absurd evidence still continued, but when the\njudges of the land had to charge the jury, they took a more humane and\nphilosophical view. By degrees, the educated classes (comprised, in\nthose days, within very narrow limits), openly expressed their unbelief\nof modern witchcraft, although they were not bold enough to deny its\nexistence altogether. Between them and the believers in the old\ndoctrine fierce arguments ensued, and the sceptics were designated\nSadducees. To convince them, the learned and Reverend Joseph Glanvil\nwrote his well-known work, \"Sadducismus Triumphatus,\" and \"The\nCollection of Relations;\" the first part intended as a philosophical\ninquiry into witchcraft, and the power of the devil \"to assume a mortal\nshape;\" the latter containing what he considered a multitude of\nwell-authenticated modern instances.\n\nBut though progress was made, it was slow. In 1664, the venerable Sir\nMatthew Hale condemned two women, named Amy Duny and Rose Cullender, to\nthe stake at St. Edmondsbury, upon evidence the most ridiculous. These\ntwo old women, whose ugliness gave their neighbours the first idea that\nthey were witches, went to a shop to purchase herrings, and were\nrefused. Indignant at the prejudice against them, they were not sparing\nof their abuse. Shortly afterward, the daughter of the herring-dealer\nfell sick, and a cry was raised that she was bewitched by the old women\nwho had been refused the herrings. This girl was subject to epileptic\nfits. To discover the guilt of Amy Duny and Rose Cullender, the girl's\neyes were blinded closely with a shawl, and the witches were commanded\nto touch her. They did so, and she was immediately seized with a fit.\nUpon this evidence they were sent to prison. The girl was afterwards\ntouched by an indifferent person, and the force of her imagination was\nso great, that, thinking it was again the witches, she fell down in a\nviolent fit as before. This, however, was not received in favour of the\naccused.\n\nThe following extract, from the published reports of the trial, will\nshow the sort of evidence which was received:--\n\n\"Samuel Pacey, of Leystoff, (a good, sober man,) being sworn, said\nthat, on Thursday the 10th of October last, his younger daughter,\nDeborah, about nine years old, was suddenly taken so lame that she\ncould not stand on her legs, and so continued till the 17th of the same\nmonth, when the child desired to be carried to a bank on the east side\nof the house, looking towards the sea; and, while she was sitting\nthere, Amy Duny came to this examinant's house to buy some herrings,\nbut was denied. Then she came twice more, but, being as often denied,\nshe went away discontented and grumbling. At this instant of time, the\nchild was taken with terrible fits, complaining of a pain in her\nstomach, as if she was pricked with pins, shrieking out with a voice\nlike a whelp, and thus continued till the 30th of the same month. This\nexaminant further saith, that Amy Duny, having long had the reputation\nof a witch, and his child having, in the intervals of her fits,\nconstantly cried out on her, as the cause of her disorder, saying, that\nthe said Amy did appear to her and fright her, he himself did suspect\nthe said Amy to be a witch, and charged her with being the cause of his\nchild's illness, and set her in the stocks. Two days after, his\ndaughter Elizabeth was taken with such strange fits, that they could\nnot force open her mouth without a tap; and the younger child being in\nthe same condition, they used to her the same remedy.  Both children\ngrievously complained that Amy Duny and another woman, whose habit and\nlooks they described, did appear to them, and torment them, and would\ncry out, 'There stands Amy Duny! There stands Rose Cullender!' the\nother person who afflicted them. Their fits were not alike. Sometimes\nthey were lame on the right side; sometimes on the left; and sometimes\nso sore, that they could not bear to be touched. Sometimes they were\nperfectly well in other respects, but they could not hear; at other\ntimes, they could not see. Sometimes they lost their speech for one,\ntwo, and once for eight, days together. At times they had swooning\nfits, and, when they could speak, were taken with a fit of coughing,\nand vomited phlegm and crooked pins; and once a great twopenny nail,\nwith above forty pins; which nail he, the examinant, saw vomited up,\nwith many of the pins. The nail and pins were produced in the court.\nThus the children continued for two months, during which time the\nexaminant often made them read in the New Testament, and observed, when\nthey came to the words Lord Jesus, or Christ, they could not pronounce\nthem, but fell into a fit.  When they came to the word Satan, or devil,\nthey would point, and say, 'This bites, but makes me speak right well.'\nFinding his children thus tormented without hopes of recovery, he sent\nthem to his sister, Margaret Arnold, at Yarmouth, being willing to try\nwhether change of air would help them.\n\n\"Margaret Arnold was the next witness. Being sworn, she said, that\nabout the 30th of November, Elizabeth and Deborah Pacey came to her\nhouse, with her brother, who told her what had happened, and that he\nthought his children bewitched. She, this examinant, did not much\nregard it, supposing the children had played tricks, and put the pins\ninto their mouths themselves. She, therefore, took all the pins from\ntheir clothes, sewing them with thread instead of pinning them. But,\nnotwithstanding, they raised, at times, at least thirty pins, in her\npresence, and had terrible fits; in which fits they would cry out upon\nAmy Duny and Rose Cullender, saying, that they saw them and heard them\nthreatening, as before; that they saw things, like mice, running about\nthe house; and one of them catched one, and threw it into the fire,\nwhich made a noise, like a rat. Another time the younger child, being\nout of doors, a thing like a bee would have forced itself into her\nmouth, at which the child ran screaming into the house, and before this\nexaminant could come at her, fell into a fit, and vomited a twopenny\nnail, with a broad head. After that, this examinant asked the child how\nshe came by this nail, when she answered, 'The bee brought the nail,\nand forced it into my mouth.' At other times, the eldest child told\nthis examinant that she saw flies bring her crooked pins.  She would\nthen fall into a fit, and vomit such pins. One time the said child said\nshe saw a mouse, and crept under the table to look for it; and\nafterwards, the child seemed to put something into her apron, saying,\n'She had caught it.' She then ran to the fire, and threw it in, on\nwhich there did appear to this examinant something like a flash of\ngunpowder, although she does own she saw nothing in the child's hand.\nOnce the child, being speechless, but otherwise very sensible, ran up\nand down the house, crying, 'Hush! hush!' as if she had seen poultry;\nbut this examinant saw nothing. At last the child catched at something,\nand threw it into the fire. Afterwards, when the child could speak,\nthis examinant asked her what she saw at the time? She answered, that\nshe saw a duck. Another time the youngest child said, after a fit, that\nAmy Duny had been with her, and tempted her to drown herself, or cut\nher throat, or otherwise destroy herself. Another time they both cried\nout upon Amy Duny and Rose Cullender, saying, 'Why don't you come\nyourselves? Why do you send your imps to torment us?'\"\n\nThe celebrated Sir Thomas Brown, the author of \"Vulgar Errors,\" was\nalso examined as a witness upon the trial. Being desired to give his\nopinion of the three persons in court, he said, he was clearly of\nopinion that they were bewitched. He said, there had lately been a\ndiscovery of witches in Denmark, who used the same way of tormenting\npersons, by conveying crooked pins, needles, and nails into their\nbodies. That he thought, in such cases, the devil acted upon human\nbodies by natural means, namely, by exciting and stirring up the\nsuperabundant humours, he did afflict them in a more surprising manner\nby the same diseases their bodies were usually subject to; that these\nfits might be natural, only raised to a great degree by the subtlety of\nthe devil, co-operating with the malice of these witches.\n\nThe evidence being concluded, Sir Matthew Hale addressed the jury.  He\nsaid, he would waive repeating the evidence, to prevent any mistake,\nand told the jury, there were two things they had to inquire into.\nFirst, Whether or not these children were bewitched; secondly, Whether\nthese women did bewitch them. He said, he did not in the least doubt\nthere were witches; first, Because the Scriptures affirmed it;\nsecondly, Because the wisdom of all nations, particularly our own, had\nprovided laws against witchcraft, which implied their belief of such a\ncrime. He desired them strictly to observe the evidence, and begged of\nGod to direct their hearts in the weighty concern they had in hand,\nsince, to condemn the innocent and let the guilty go free, are both an\nabomination to the Lord.\n\nThe jury then retired, and, in about half an hour, returned a verdict\nof guilty upon all the indictments, being thirteen in number.  The next\nmorning the children came with their father to the lodgings of Sir\nMatthew Hale, very well, and quite restored to their usual health. Mr.\nPacey, being asked at what time their health began to improve, replied,\nthat they were quite well in half an hour after the conviction of the\nprisoners.\n\nMany attempts were made to induce the unfortunate women to confess\ntheir guilt; but in vain, and they were both hanged.\n\nEleven trials were instituted before Chief-Justice Holt for witchcraft\nbetween the years 1694 and 1701. The evidence was of the usual\ncharacter; but Holt appealed so successfully in each case to the common\nsense of the jury, that they were every one acquitted. A general\nfeeling seemed to pervade the country that blood enough had been shed\nupon these absurd charges. Now and then, the flame of persecution burnt\nup in a remote district; but these instances were no longer looked upon\nas mere matters of course. They appear, on the contrary, to have\nexcited much attention; a sure proof, if no other were to be obtained,\nthat they were becoming unfrequent.\n\nA case of witchcraft was tried in 1711, before Lord Chief Justice\nPowell; in which, however, the jury persisted in a verdict of guilty,\nthough the evidence was of the usual absurd and contradictory\ncharacter, and the enlightened judge did all in his power to bring them\nto a right conclusion. The accused person was one Jane Wenham, better\nknown as the Witch of Walkerne; and the persons who were alleged to\nhave suffered from her witchcraft were two young women, named Thorne\nand Street. A witness, named Mr. Arthur Chauncy, deposed, that he had\nseen Ann Thorne in several of her fits, and that she always recovered\nupon prayers being said, or if Jane Wenham came to her. He related,\nthat he had pricked the prisoner several times in the arms, but could\nnever fetch any blood from her; that he had seen her vomit pins, when\nthere were none in her clothes or within her reach; and that he had\npreserved several of them, which he was ready to produce. The judge,\nhowever, told him that was needless, as he supposed they were crooked\npins.\n\nMr. Francis Bragge, another witness, deposed, that strange \"cakes\" of\nbewitched feathers having been taken from Ann Thorne's pillow, he was\nanxious to see them. He went into a room where some of these feathers\nwere, and took two of the cakes, and compared them together.  They were\nboth of a circular figure, something larger than a crown piece; and he\nobserved that the small feathers were placed in a nice and curious\norder, at equal distances from each other, making so many radii of the\ncircle, in the centre of which the quill ends of the feathers met. He\ncounted the number of these feathers, and found them to be exactly\nthirty-two in each cake. He afterwards endeavoured to pull off two or\nthree of them, and observed that they were all fastened together by a\nsort of viscous matter, which would stretch seven or eight times in a\nthread before it broke. Having taken off several of these feathers, he\nremoved the viscous matter with his fingers, and found under it, in the\ncentre, some short hairs, black and grey, matted together, which he\nverily believed to be cat's hair.  He also said, that Jane Wenham\nconfessed to him that she had bewitched the pillow, and had practised\nwitchcraft for sixteen years.\n\nThe judge interrupted the witness at this stage, and said, he should\nvery much like to see an enchanted feather, and seemed to wonder when\nhe was told that none of these strange cakes had been preserved. His\nLordship asked the witness why he did not keep one or two of them, and\nwas informed that they had all been burnt, in order to relieve the\nbewitched person of the pains she suffered, which could not be so well\neffected by any other means.\n\nA man, named Thomas Ireland, deposed, that hearing several times a\ngreat noise of cats crying and screaming about his house, he went out\nand frightened them away, and they all ran towards the cottage of Jane\nWenham. One of them he swore positively had a face very like Jane\nWenham's. Another man, named Burville, gave similar evidence, and swore\nthat he had often seen a cat with Jane Wenham's face. Upon one occasion\nhe was in Ann Thorne's chamber, when several cats came in, and among\nthem the cat above stated. This witness would have favoured the court\nwith a much longer statement, but was stopped by the judge, who said he\nhad heard quite enough.\n\nThe prisoner, in her defence, said nothing, but that \"she was a clear\nwoman.\" The learned judge then summed up, leaving it to the jury to\ndetermine whether such evidence as they had heard was sufficient to\ntake away the prisoner's life upon the indictment. After a long\ndeliberation they brought in their verdict, that she was guilty upon\nthe evidence. The Judge then asked them whether they found her guilty\nupon the indictment of conversing with the devil in the shape of a cat?\nThe sapient foreman very gravely answered, \"We find her guilty of\nthat.\" The learned judge then very reluctantly proceeded to pass\nsentence of death; but, by his persevering exertions, a pardon was at\nlast obtained, and the wretched old woman was set at liberty. In the\nyear 1716, a woman and her daughter,--the latter only nine years of\nage,--were hanged at Huntingdon for selling their souls to the devil,\nand raising a storm by pulling off their stockings and making a lather\nof soap. This appears to have been the last judicial execution in\nEngland. From that time to the year 1736, the populace raised at\nintervals the old cry, and more than once endangered the lives of poor\nwomen by dragging them through ponds on suspicion; but the philosophy\nof those who, from their position, sooner or later give the tone to the\nopinions and morals of the poor, was silently working a cure for the\nevil. The fear of witches ceased to be epidemic, and became individual,\nlingering only in minds lettered by inveterate prejudice or brutalizing\nsuperstition. In the year 1736, the penal statute of James I. was\nfinally blotted from the statutebook, and suffered no longer to\ndisgrace the advancing intelligence of the country.  Pretenders to\nwitchcraft, fortune-tellers, conjurors, and all their train, were\nliable only to the common punishment of rogues and\nimpostors--imprisonment and the pillory.\n\nIn Scotland, the delusion also assumed the same phases, and was\ngradually extinguished in the light of civilization. As in England the\nprogress of improvement was slow. Up to the year 1665, little or no\ndiminution of the mania was perceptible. In 1643, the General Assembly\nrecommended that the Privy Council should institute a standing\ncommission, composed of any \"understanding gentlemen or magistrates,\"\nto try the witches, who were stated to have increased enormously of\nlate years. In 1649, an act was passed, confirmatory of the original\nstatute of Queen Mary, explaining some points of the latter which were\ndoubtful, and enacting severe penalties, not only against witches\nthemselves, but against all who covenanted with them, or sought by\ntheir means to pry into the secrets of futurity, or cause any evil to\nthe life, lands, or limbs of their neighbours. For the next ten years,\nthe popular madness upon this subject was perhaps more furious than\never; upwards of four thousand persons suffered for the crime during\nthat interval. This was the consequence of the act of parliament and\nthe unparalleled severity of the magistrates; the latter frequently\ncomplained that for two witches they burned one day, there were ten to\nburn the next: they never thought that they themselves were the cause\nof the increase. In a single circuit, held at Glasgow, Ayr, and\nStirling, in 1659, seventeen unhappy creatures were burned by judicial\nsentence for trafficking with Satan. In one day, (November 7, 1661,)\nthe Privy Council issued no less than fourteen commissions for trials\nin the provinces. Next year, the violence of the persecution seems to\nhave abated. From 1662 to 1668, although \"the understanding gentlemen\nand magistrates\" already mentioned, continued to try and condemn, the\nHigh Court of Justiciary had but one offender of this class to deal\nwith, and she was acquitted. James Welsh, a common pricker, was ordered\nto be publicly whipped through the streets of Edinburgh for falsely\naccusing a woman of witchcraft; a fact which alone proves that the\nsuperior court sifted the evidence in these cases with much more care\nand severity than it had done a few years previously. The enlightened\nSir George Mackenzie, styled by Dryden \"the noble wit of Scotland,\"\nlaboured hard to introduce this rule into court--that the confessions\nof the witches should be held of little worth, and that the evidence of\nthe prickers and other interested persons should be received with\ndistrust and jealousy. This was reversing the old practice, and saved\nmany innocent lives. Though a firm believer both in ancient and modern\nwitchcraft, he could not shut his eyes to the atrocities daily\ncommitted under the name of justice. In his work on the Criminal Law of\nScotland, published in 1678, he says, \"From the horridness of this\ncrime, I do conclude that, of all others, it requires the clearest\nrelevancy and most convincing probature; and I condemn, next to the\nwretches themselves, those cruel and too forward judges who burn\npersons by thousands as guilty of this crime.\" In the same year, Sir\nJohn Clerk plumply refused to serve as a commissioner on trials for\nwitchcraft, alleging, by way of excuse, \"that he was not himself good\nconjuror enough to be duly qualified.\" The views entertained by Sir\nGeorge Mackenzie were so favourably received by the Lords of Session\nthat he was deputed, in 1680, to report to them on the cases of a\nnumber of poor women who were then in prison awaiting their trial. Sir\nGeorge stated that there was no evidence against them whatever but\ntheir own confessions, which were absurd and contradictory, and drawn\nfrom them by severe torture. They were immediately discharged.\n\nFor the next sixteen years, the Lords of Session were unoccupied with\ntrials for witchcraft; not one is entered upon the record: but in 1697,\na case occurred, which equalled in absurdity any of those that\nsignalized the dark reign of King James. A girl, named Christiana Shaw,\neleven years of age, the daughter of John Shaw of Bargarran, was\nsubject to fits, and being of a spiteful temper, she accused her\nmaid-servant, with whom she had frequent quarrels, of bewitching her.\nHer story, unfortunately, was believed. Encouraged to tell all the\npersecutions of the devil which the maid had sent to torment her, she\nin the end concocted a romance that involved twenty-one persons. There\nwas no other evidence against them but the fancies of this lying child,\nand the confessions which pain had extorted from them; but upon this no\nless than five women were condemned, before Lord Blantyre and the rest\nof the Commissioners, appointed specially by the Privy Council to try\nthis case. They were burned on the Green at Paisley.  The warlock of\nthe party, one John Reed, who was also condemned, hanged himself in\nprison. It was the general belief in Paisley that the devil had\nstrangled him, lest he should have revealed in his last moments too\nmany of the unholy secrets of witchcraft. This trial excited\nconsiderable disgust in Scotland. The Rev. Mr. Bell, a contemporary\nwriter, observed that, in this business, \"persons of more goodness and\nesteem than most of their calumniators were defamed for witches.\" He\nadds, that the persons chiefly to blame were \"certain ministers of too\nmuch forwardness and absurd credulity, and some topping professors in\nand about Glasgow.\" [Preface to \"Law's Memorials,\" edited by Sharpe.]\n\nAfter this trial, there again occurs a lapse of seven years, when the\nsubject was painfully forced upon public attention by the brutal\ncruelty of the mob at Pittenween. Two women were accused of having\nbewitched a strolling beggar, who was subject to fits, or who pretended\nto be so, for the purpose of exciting commiseration. They were cast\ninto prison, and tortured until they confessed. One of them, named\nJanet Cornfoot, contrived to escape, but was brought back to Pittenween\nnext day by a party of soldiers. On her approach to the town, she was,\nunfortunately, met by a furious mob, composed principally of fishermen\nand their wives, who seized upon her with the intention of swimming\nher. They forced her away to the sea shore, and tying a rope around her\nbody, secured the end of it to the mast of a fishing-boat lying\nalongside. In this manner they ducked her several times. When she was\nhalf dead, a sailor in the boat cut away the rope, and the mob dragged\nher through the sea to the beach. Here, as she lay quite insensible, a\nbrawny ruffian took down the door of his hut, close by, and placed it\non her back. The mob gathered large stones from the beach, and piled\nthem upon her till the wretched woman was pressed to death. No\nmagistrate made the slightest attempt to interfere, and the soldiers\nlooked on, delighted spectators. A great outcry was raised against this\nculpable remissness, but no judicial inquiry was set on foot. This\nhappened in 1704.\n\nThe next case we hear of is that of Elspeth Rule, found guilty of\nwitchcraft before Lord Anstruther at the Dumfries circuit, in 1708.\nShe was sentenced to be marked in the cheek with a redhot iron, and\nbanished the realm of Scotland for life.\n\nAgain there is a long interval. In 1718, the remote county of\nCaithness, where the delusion remained in all its pristine vigour for\nyears after it had ceased elsewhere, was startled from its propriety by\nthe cry of witchcraft. A silly fellow, named William Montgomery, a\ncarpenter, had a mortal antipathy to cats, and, somehow or other, these\nanimals generally chose his back-yard as the scene of their\ncatterwaulings. He puzzled his brains for a long time to know why he,\nabove all his neighbours, should be so pestered; at last he came to the\nsage conclusion that his tormentors were no cats, but witches. In this\nopinion he was supported by his maid-servant, who swore a round oath\nthat she had often heard the aforesaid cats talking together in human\nvoices. The next time the unlucky tabbies assembled in his back-yard,\nthe valiant carpenter was on the alert. Arming himself with an axe, a\ndirk, and a broadsword, he rushed out among them: one of them he\nwounded in the back, a second in the hip, and the leg of a third he\nmaimed with his axe; but he could not capture any of them. A few days\nafterwards, two old women of the parish died, and it was said that,\nwhen their bodies were laid out, there appeared upon the back of one\nthe mark as of a recent wound, and a similar scar upon the hip of the\nother. The carpenter and his maid were convinced that they were the\nvery cats, and the whole county repeated the same story. Every one was\nupon the look-out for proofs corroborative: a very remarkable one was\nsoon discovered. Nanny Gilbert, a wretched old creature of upwards of\nseventy years of age, was found in bed with her leg broken; as she was\nugly enough for a witch, it was asserted that she, also, was one of the\ncats that had fared so ill at the hands of the carpenter. The latter,\nwhen informed of the popular suspicion, asserted that he distinctly\nremembered to have struck one of the cats a blow with the back of his\nbroadsword, which ought to have broken her leg. Nanny was immediately\ndragged from her bed, and thrown into prison. Before she was put to the\ntorture, she explained, in a very natural and intelligible manner, how\nshe had broken her limb; but this account did not give satisfaction:\nthe professional persuasions of the torturer made her tell a different\ntale, and she confessed that she was indeed a witch, and had been\nwounded by Montgomery on the night stated--that the two old women\nrecently deceased were witches also, besides about a score of others\nwhom she named. The poor creature suffered so much by the removal from\nher own home, and the tortures inflicted upon her, that she died the\nnext day in prison. Happily for the persons she had named in her\nconfession, Dundas of Arniston, at that time the King's\nAdvocate-general, wrote to the Sheriff-depute, one Captain Ross of\nLittledean, cautioning him not to proceed to trial, the \"thing being of\ntoo great difficulty, and beyond the jurisdiction of an inferior\ncourt.\" Dundas himself examined the precognition with great care, and\nwas so convinced of the utter folly of the whole case that he quashed\nall further proceedings.\n\nWe find this same Sheriff-depute of Caithness very active four years\nafterwards in another trial for witchcraft. In spite of the warning he\nhad received, that all such cases were to be tried in future by the\nsuperior courts, he condemned to death an old woman at Dornoch, upon\nthe charge of bewitching the cows and pigs of her neighbours. This poor\ncreature was insane, and actually laughed and clapped her hands at\nsight of \"the bonnie fire\" that was to consume her. She had a daughter,\nwho was lame both of her hands and feet, and one of the charges brought\nagainst her was, that she had used this daughter as a pony in her\nexcursions to join the devil's sabbath, and that the devil himself had\nshod her, and produced lameness.\n\nThis was the last execution that took place in Scotland for witchcraft.\nThe penal statutes were repealed in 1756, and, as in England, whipping,\nthe pillory, or imprisonment, were declared the future punishments of\nall pretenders to magic or witchcraft.\n\nStill, for many years after this, the superstition lingered both in\nEngland and Scotland, and in some districts is far from being extinct\neven at this day. But before we proceed to trace it any further than to\nits legal extinction, we have yet to see the frightful havoc it made in\ncontinental Europe from the commencement of the seventeenth to the\nmiddle of the eighteenth century. France, Germany, and Switzerland were\nthe countries which suffered most from the epidemic. The number of\nvictims in these countries during the sixteenth century has already\nbeen mentioned; but, at the early part of the seventeenth, the numbers\nare so great, especially in Germany, that were they not to be found in\nthe official records of the tribunals, it would be almost impossible to\nbelieve that mankind could ever have been so maddened and deluded. To\nuse the words of the learned and indefatigable Horst, [Zauber\nBibliothek. Theil 5.] \"the world seemed to be like a large madhouse for\nwitches and devils to play their antics in.\" Satan was believed to be\nat everybody's call, to raise the whirlwind, draw down the lightning,\nblight the productions of the earth, or destroy the health and paralyse\nthe limbs of man. This belief, so insulting to the majesty and\nbeneficence of the Creator, was shared by the most pious ministers of\nreligion. Those who in their morning and evening prayers acknowledged\nthe one true God, and praised him for the blessings of the seed time\nand the harvest, were convinced that frail humanity could enter into a\ncompact with the spirits of hell to subvert his laws and thwart all his\nmerciful intentions. Successive popes, from Innocent VIII. downwards,\npromulgated this degrading doctrine, which spread so rapidly that\nsociety seemed to be divided into two great factions, the bewitching\nand the bewitched.\n\nThe commissioners named by Innocent VIII. to prosecute the witch-trials\nin Germany, were Jacob Sprenger, so notorious for his work on\ndemonology, entitled the \"Malleus Maleficarum,\" or \"Hammer to knock\ndown Witches,\" Henry Institor a learned jurisconsult, and the Bishop of\nStrasburgh. Barnberg, Treves, Cologne, Paderborn, and Wurzburg, were\nthe chief seats of the commissioners, who, during their lives alone,\ncondemned to the stake, on a very moderate calculation, upwards of\nthree thousand victims. The number of witches so increased, that new\ncommissioners were continually appointed in Germany, France, and\nSwitzerland. In Spain and Portugal the Inquisition alone took\ncognizance of the crime. It is impossible to search the records of\nthose dark, but now happily nonexisting tribunals; but the mind recoils\nwith affright even to form a guess of the multitudes who perished.\n\nThe mode of trial in the other countries is more easily ascertained.\nSprenger, in Germany, and Bodinus and Delrio, in France, have left but\ntoo ample a record of the atrocities committed in the much-abused names\nof justice and religion. Bodinus, of great repute and authority in the\nseventeenth century, says, \"The trial of this offence must not be\nconducted like other crimes. Whoever adheres to the ordinary course of\njustice perverts the spirit of the law, both Divine and human. He who\nis accused of sorcery should never be acquitted unless the malice of\nthe prosecutor be clearer than the sun; for it is so difficult to bring\nfull proof of this secret crime, that out of a million of witches not\none would be convicted if the usual course were followed!\" Henri\nBoguet, a witch-finder, who styled himself \"The Grand Judge of Witches\nfor the Territory of St. Claude,\" drew up a code for the guidance of\nall persons engaged in the witch-trials, consisting of seventy\narticles, quite as cruel as the code of Bodinus. In this document he\naffirms, that a mere suspicion of witchcraft justifies the immediate\narrest and torture of the suspected person. If the prisoner muttered,\nlooked on the ground, and did not shed any tears, all these were proofs\npositive of guilt! In all cases of witchcraft, the evidence of the\nchild ought to be taken against its parent; and persons of notoriously\nbad character, although not to be believed upon their oaths on the\nordinary occasions of dispute that might arise between man and man,\nwere to be believed, if they swore that any person had bewitched them!\nWho, when he hears that this diabolical doctrine was the universally\nreceived opinion of the ecclesiastical and civil authorities, can\nwonder that thousands upon thousands of unhappy persons should be\nbrought to the stake? that Cologne should for many years burn its three\nhundred witches annually?  the district of Barnberg its four hundred?\nNuremberg, Geneva, Paris, Toulouse, Lyons, and other cities, their two\nhundred?\n\nA few of these trials may be cited, taking them in the order of\npriority, as they occurred in different parts of the Continent. In 1595\nan old woman residing in a village near Constance, angry at not being\ninvited to share the sports of the country people on a day of public\nrejoicing, was heard to mutter something to herself, and was afterwards\nseen to proceed through the fields towards a hill, where she was lost\nsight of. A violent thunderstorm arose about two hours afterwards,\nwhich wet the dancers to the skin, and did considerable damage to the\nplantations. This woman, suspected before of witchcraft, was seized and\nimprisoned, and accused of having raised the storm, by filling a hole\nwith wine, and stirring it about with a stick. She was tortured till\nshe confessed, and was burned alive the next evening.\n\nAbout the same time two sorcerers in Toulouse were accused of having\ndragged a crucifix about the streets at midnight, stopping at times to\nspit upon and kick it, and uttering at intervals an exorcism to raise\nthe devil. The next day a hail-storm did considerable damage to the\ncrops, and a girl, the daughter of a shoemaker in the town, remembered\nto have heard in the night the execrations of the wizards.  Her story\nled to their arrest. The usual means to produce confession were\nresorted to. The wizards owned that they could raise tempests whenever\nthey pleased, and named several persons who possessed similar powers.\nThey were hanged, and then burned in the market-place, and seven of the\npersons they had mentioned shared the same fate.\n\nHoppo and Stadlin, two noted wizards of Germany, were executed in 1599.\nThey implicated twenty or thirty witches, who went about causing women\nto miscarry, bringing down the lightning of heaven, and making maidens\nbring forth toads. To this latter fact several girls were found to\nswear most positively! Stadlin confessed that he had killed seven\ninfants in the womb of one woman.\n\nBodinus highly praises the exertions of a witchfinder, named Nider, in\nFrance, who prosecuted so many that he could not calculate them. Some\nof these witches could, by a single word, cause people to fall down\ndead; others made women go with child three years instead of nine\nmonths; while others, by certain invocations and ceremonies, could turn\nthe faces of their enemies upside down, or twist them round to their\nbacks. Although no witness was ever procured who saw persons in this\nhorrible state, the witches confessed that they had the power, and\nexercised it. Nothing more was wanting to insure the stake.\n\nAt Amsterdam a crazy girl confessed that she could cause sterility in\ncattle, and bewitch pigs and poultry by merely repeating the magic\nwords Turius und Shurius Inturius! She was hanged and burned. Another\nwoman in the same city, named Kornelis Van Purmerund, was arrested in\nconsequence of some disclosures the former had made. A witness came\nforward and swore that she one day looked through the window of her\nhut, and saw Kornelis sitting before a fire muttering something to the\ndevil. She was sure it was to the devil, because she heard him answer\nher. Shortly afterwards twelve black cats ascended out of the floor,\nand danced on their hind legs around the witch for the space of about\nhalf an hour. They then vanished with a horrid noise, and leaving a\ndisagreeable smell behind them. She also was hanged and burned.\n\nAt Bamberg, in Bavaria, the executions from the year 1610 to 1640 were\nat the rate of about a hundred annually. One woman, suspected of\nwitchcraft, was seized because, having immoderately praised the beauty\nof a child, it had shortly afterwards fallen ill and died. She\nconfessed upon the rack that the devil had given her the power to work\nevil upon those she hated, by speaking words in their praise. If she\nsaid with unwonted fervour, \"What a strong man!\" \"What a lovely woman!\"\n\"What a sweet child!\" the devil understood her, and afflicted them with\ndiseases immediately. It is quite unnecessary to state the end of this\npoor creature. Many women were executed for causing strange substances\nto lodge in the bodies of those who offended them. Bits of wood, nails,\nhair, eggshells, bits of glass, shreds of linen and woollen cloth,\npebbles, and even hot cinders and knives, were the articles generally\nchosen. These were believed to remain in the body till the witches\nconfessed or were executed, when they were voided from the bowels, or\nby the mouth, nostrils, or ears. Modern physicians have often had cases\nof a similar description under their care, where girls have swallowed\nneedles, which have been voided on the arms, legs, and other parts of\nthe body. But the science of that day could not account for these\nphenomena otherwise than by the power of the devil; and every needle\nswallowed by a servant maid cost an old woman her life. Nay, if no more\nthan one suffered in consequence, the district might think itself\nfortunate. The commissioners seldom stopped short at one victim. The\nrevelations of the rack in most cases implicated half a score.\n\nOf all the records of the witch-trials preserved for the wonder of\nsucceeding ages, that of Wurzburg, from 1627 to 1629, is the most\nfrightful. Hauber, who has preserved this list in his \"Acta et Scripta\nMagica,\" says, in a note at the end, that it is far from complete, and\nthat there were a great many other burnings too numerous to specify.\nThis record, which relates to the city only, and not to the province of\nWurzburg, contains the names of one hundred and fifty-seven persons,\nwho were burned in two years in twenty-nine burnings, averaging from\nfive to six at a time. The list comprises three play-actors, four\ninnkeepers, three common councilmen of Wurzburg, fourteen vicars of the\ncathedral, the burgomaster's lady, an apothecary's wife and daughter,\ntwo choristers of the cathedral, Gobel Babelin the prettiest girl in\nthe town, and the wife, the two little sons, and the daughter of the\ncouncillor Stolzenberg. Rich and poor, young and old, suffered alike.\nAt the seventh of these recorded burnings, the victims are described as\na wandering boy, twelve years of age, and four strange men and women,\nfound sleeping in the market-place. Thirty-two of the whole number\nappear to have been vagrants, of both sexes, who, failing to give a\nsatisfactory account of themselves, were accused and found guilty of\nwitchcraft. The number of children on the list is horrible to think\nupon. The thirteenth and fourteenth burnings comprised four persons,\nwho are stated to have been a little maiden nine years of age, a maiden\nstill less, her sister, their mother, and their aunt, a pretty young\nwoman of twenty-four. At the eighteenth burning the victims were two\nboys of twelve, and a girl of fifteen; at the nineteenth, the young\nheir of the noble house of Rotenhahn, aged nine, and two other boys,\none aged ten, and the other twelve. Among other entries appear the\nnames of Baunach, the fattest, and Steinacher, the richest burgher in\nWurzburg.  What tended to keep up the delusion in this unhappy city,\nand indeed all over Europe, was the number of hypochondriac and\ndiseased persons who came voluntarily forward, and made confession of\nwitchcraft.  Several of the victims in the foregoing list, had only\nthemselves to blame for their fate. Many again, including the\napothecary's wife and daughter already mentioned, pretended to sorcery,\nand sold poisons, or attempted by means of charms and incantations to\nraise the devil. But throughout all this fearful period the delusion of\nthe criminals was as great as that of the judges. Depraved persons who,\nin ordinary times, would have been thieves or murderers, added the\ndesire of sorcery to their depravity, sometimes with the hope of\nacquiring power over their fellows, and sometimes with the hope of\nsecuring impunity in this world by the protection of Satan. One of the\npersons executed at the first burning, a prostitute, was heard\nrepeating the exorcism, which was supposed to have the power of raising\nthe arch enemy in the form of a goat. This precious specimen of human\nfolly has been preserved by Horst, in his \"Zauberbibliothek.\" It ran as\nfollows, and was to be repeated slowly, with many ceremonies and\nwaivings of the hand:--\n\n  \"Lalle, Bachera, Magotte, Baphia, Dajam,\n  Vagoth Heneche Ammi Nagaz, Adomator\n  Raphael Immanuel Christus, Tetragrammaton\n  Agra Jod Loi. Konig! Konig!\"\n\nThe two last words were uttered quickly, and with a sort of scream, and\nwere supposed to be highly agreeable to Satan, who loved to be called a\nking. If he did not appear immediately, it was necessary to repeat a\nfurther exorcism. The one in greatest repute was as follows, and was to\nbe read backwards, with the exception of the last two words\n\n  \"Anion, Lalle, Sabolos, Sado, Pater, Aziel\n  Adonai Sado Vagoth Agra, Jod,\n  Baphra! Komm! Komm!\"\n\nWhen the witch wanted to get rid of the devil, who was sometimes in the\nhabit of prolonging his visits to an unconscionable length, she had\nonly to repeat the following, also backwards, when he generally\ndisappeared, leaving behind him a suffocating smell:--\n\n  \"Zellianelle Heotti Bonus Vagotha\n  Plisos sother osech unicus Beelzebub\n  Dax! Komm! Komm!\"\n\nThis nonsensical jargon soon became known to all the idle and foolish\nboys of Germany. Many an unhappy urchin, who in a youthful frolic had\nrepeated it, paid for his folly the penalty of his life. Three, whose\nages varied from ten to fifteen, were burned alive at Wurzburg for no\nother offence. Of course every other boy in the city became still more\nconvinced of the power of the charm. One boy confessed that he would\nwillingly have sold himself to the devil, if he could have raised him,\nfor a good dinner and cakes every day of his life, and a pony to ride\nupon. This luxurious youngster, instead of being horsewhipped for his\nfolly, was hanged and burned.\n\nThe small district of Lindheim was, if possible, even more notorious\nthan Wurzburg for the number of its witch-burnings. In the year 1633 a\nfamous witch, named Pomp Anna, who could cause her foes to fall sick by\nmerely looking at them, was discovered and burned, along with three of\nher companions. Every year in this parish, consisting at most of a\nthousand persons, the average number of executions was five.  Between\nthe years 1660 and 1664, the number consumed was thirty. If the\nexecutions all over Germany had been in this frightful proportion,\nhardly a family could have escaped losing one of its members.\n\nIn 1627 a ballad entitled the \"Druten Zeitung,\" or the \"Witches\nGazette,\" was very popular in Germany. It detailed, according to the\ntitlepage of a copy printed at Smalcald in 1627, \"an account of the\nremarkable events which took place in Franconia, Bamberg, and Wurzburg,\nwith those wretches who from avarice or ambition have sold themselves\nto the devil, and how they had their reward at last: set to music, and\nto be sung to the tune of Dorothea.\" The sufferings of the witches at\nthe stake are explained in it with great minuteness, the poet waxing\nextremely witty when he describes the horrible contortions of pain upon\ntheir countenances, and the shrieks that rent the air when any one of\nmore than common guilt was burned alive. A trick resorted to in order\nto force one witch to confess, is told in this doggrel as an excellent\njoke. As she obstinately refused to own that she was in league with the\npowers of evil, the commissioners suggested that the hangman should\ndress himself in a bear's skin, with the horns, tail, and all the et\nceteras, and in this form penetrate into her dungeon. The woman, in the\ndarkness of her cell, could not detect the imposture, aided as it was\nby her own superstitious fears. She thought she was actually in the\npresence of the prince of hell; and when she was told to keep up her\ncourage, and that she should be relieved from the power of her enemies,\nshe fell on her knees before the supposed devil, and swore to dedicate\nherself hereafter body and soul to his service. Germany is, perhaps,\nthe only country in Europe where the delusion was so great as to have\nmade such detestable verses as these the favourites of the people:--\n\n    \"Man shickt ein Henkersknecht\n  Zu ihr in Gefangniss n'unter,\n    Den man hat kleidet recht,\n  Mir einer Barnhaute,\n    Als wenns der Teufel war;\n  Als ihm die Drut anschaute\n    Meints ihr Buhl kam daher.\n\n  \"Sie sprach zu ihm behende,\n    Wie lasst du mich so lang\n  In der Obrigkeit Hande?\n    Hilf mir aus ihren Zwang,\n  Wie du mir hast verheissen,\n    Ich bin ja eben dein,\n  Thu mich aus der Angst entreissen\n    O liebster Buhle mein?\n\n[They sent a hangman's assistant down to her in her prison; they\nclothed him properly in a bear's skin, as if he were the devil. Him,\nwhen the witch saw, she thought he was her familiar. She said to him\nquickly, \"Why hast thou left me so long in the magistrate's hands?\nHelp me out of their power, as thou hast promised, and I will be thine\nalone. Help me from this anguish, O thou dearest devil (or lover),\nmine?\"]\n\nThis rare poet adds, that in making such an appeal to the hangman, the\nwitch never imagined the roast that was to be made of her, and puts in,\nby way of parenthesis, \"was not that fine fun!\" \"Was das war fur ein\nSpiel!\" As feathers thrown into the air show how the wind blows, so\nthis trumpery ballad serves to show the current of popular feeling at\nthe time of its composition.\n\nAll readers of history are familiar with the celebrated trial of the\nMarechale d'Ancre, who was executed in Paris in the year 1617.\nAlthough witchcraft was one of the accusations brought against her, the\nreal crime for which she suffered was her ascendency over the mind of\nMary of Medicis, and the consequent influence she exercised indirectly\nover the unworthy King, Louis XIII. Her coachman gave evidence that she\nhad sacrificed a cock at midnight, in one of the churches, and others\nswore they had seen her go secretly into the house of a noted witch,\nnamed Isabella. When asked by what means she had acquired so\nextraordinary an influence over the mind of the Queen Mother, she\nreplied boldly, that she exercised no other power over her, than that\nwhich a strong mind can always exercise over the weak.  She died with\ngreat firmness.\n\nIn two years afterwards scenes far more horrible than any that had yet\ntaken place in France were enacted at Labourt, at the foot of the\nPyrenees. The Parliament of Bourdeaux, scandalised at the number of\nwitches who were said to infest Labourt and its neighbourhood, deputed\none of its own members, the noted Pierre de l'Ancre, and its President,\nEspaignel, to inquire into the matter, with full powers to punish the\noffenders. They arrived at Labourt in May 1619. De l'Ancre wrote a\nbook, setting forth all his great deeds, in this battle against the\npowers of evil. It is full of obscenity and absurdity; but the facts\nmay be relied on as far as they relate to the number of trials and\nexecutions, and the strange confessions which torture forced from the\nunhappy criminals.\n\nDe l'Ancre states as a reason why so many witches were to be found at\nLabourt, that the country was mountainous and sterile! He discovered\nmany of them from their partiality to smoking tobacco. It may be\ninferred from this, that he was of the opinion of King James, that\ntobacco was the \"devil's weed.\" When the commission first sat, the\nnumber of persons brought to trial was about forty a day. The\nacquittals did not average so many as five per cent. All the witches\nconfessed that they had been present at the great Domdaniel, or\nSabbath. At these saturnalia the devil sat upon a large gilded throne,\nsometimes in the form of a goat; sometimes as a gentleman, dressed all\nin black, with boots, spurs, and sword; and very often as a shapeless\nmass, resembling the trunk of a blasted tree, seen indistinctly amid\nthe darkness. They generally proceeded to the Domdaniel, riding on\nspits, pitchforks, or broomsticks, and, on their arrival, indulged with\nthe fiends in every species of debauchery. Upon one occasion they had\nhad the audacity to celebrate this festival in the very heart of the\ncity of Bourdeaux. The throne of the arch fiend was placed in the\nmiddle of the Place de Gallienne, and the whole space was covered with\nthe multitude of witches and wizards, who flocked to it from far and\nnear; some arriving even from distant Scotland.\n\nAfter two hundred poor wretches had been hanged and burned, there\nseemed no diminution in the number of criminals to be tried. Many of\nthe latter were asked upon the rack what Satan had said, when he found\nthat the commissioners were proceeding with such severity? The general\nreply was, that he did not seem to care much about it. Some of them\nasserted, that they had boldly reproached him for suffering the\nexecution of their friends, saying, \"Out upon thee, false fiend! thy\npromise was, that they should not die! Look! how thou hast kept thy\nword! They have been burned, and are a heap of ashes!\" Upon these\noccasions he was never offended. He would give orders that the sports\nof the Domdaniel should cease, and producing illusory fires that did\nnot burn, he encouraged them to walk through, assuring them that the\nfires lighted by the executioner gave no more pain than those. They\nwould then ask him, where their friends were, since they had not\nsuffered; to which the \"Father of Lies\" invariably replied, that they\nwere happy in a far country, and could see and hear all that was then\npassing; and that, if they called by name those they wished to converse\nwith, they might hear their voices in reply. Satan then imitated the\nvoices of the defunct witches so successfully, that they were all\ndeceived. Having answered all objections, the orgies recommenced, and\nlasted till the cock crew.\n\nDe l'Ancre was also very zealous in the trial of unhappy monomaniacs\nfor the crime of lycanthropy. Several who were arrested confessed,\nwithout being tortured, that they were weir-wolves, and that, at night,\nthey rushed out among the flocks and herds, killing and devouring. One\nyoung man at Besancon, with the full consciousness of the awful fate\nthat awaited him, voluntarily gave himself up to the commissioner\nEspaignel, and confessed that he was the servant of a strong fiend, who\nwas known by the name of \"Lord of the Forests.\" By his power, he was\ntransformed into the likeness of a wolf. The \"Lord of the Forests\"\nassumed the same shape, but was much larger, fiercer, and stronger.\nThey prowled about the pastures together at midnight, strangling the\nwatch-dogs that defended the folds, and killing more sheep than they\ncould devour. He felt, he said, a fierce pleasure in these excursions,\nand howled in excess of joy as he tore with his fangs the warm flesh of\nthe sheep asunder. This youth was not alone in this horrid confession;\nmany others voluntarily owned that they were weir-wolves, and many more\nwere forced by torture to make the same avowal. Such criminals were\nthought to be too atrocious to be hanged first, and then burned: they\nwere generally sentenced to be burned alive, and their ashes to be\nscattered to the winds. Grave and learned doctors of divinity openly\nsustained the possibility of these transformations, relying mainly upon\nthe history of Nebuchadnezzar.  They could not imagine why, if he had\nbeen an ox, modern men could not become wolves, by Divine permission\nand the power of the devil. They also contended that, if men should\nconfess, it was evidence enough, if there had been no other. Delrio\nmentions that one gentleman accused of lycanthropy was put to the\ntorture no less than twenty times, but still he would not confess. An\nintoxicating draught was then given him, and under its influence he\nconfessed that he was a weir-wolf.  Delrio cites this to show the\nextreme equity of the commissioners.  They never burned anybody till he\nconfessed; and if one course of torture would not suffice, their\npatience was not exhausted, and they tried him again and again, even to\nthe twentieth time! Well may we exclaim, when such atrocities have been\ncommitted in the name of religion,\n\n  \"Quel lion, quel tigre egale en cruaute,\n  Une injuste fureur qu'arme la piete?\"\n\nThe trial of the unhappy Urbain Grandier, the curate of Loudun, for\nbewitching a number of girls in the convent of the Ursulines in that\ntown, was, like that of the Marechale d'Ancre, an accusation resorted\nto by his enemies to ruin one against whom no other charge could be\nbrought so readily. This noted affair, which kept France in commotion\nfor months, and the true character of which was known even at that\ntime, merits no more than a passing notice in this place. It did not\nspring from the epidemic dread of sorcery then so prevalent, but was\ncarried on by wretched intriguers, who had sworn to have the life of\ntheir foe. Such a charge could not be refuted in 1634: the accused\ncould not, as Bodinus expresses it, \"make the malice of the prosecutors\nmore clear than the sun;\" and his own denial, however intelligible,\nhonest, and straightforward, was held as nothing in refutation of the\ntestimony of the crazy women who imagined themselves bewitched. The\nmore absurd and contradictory their assertions, the stronger the\nargument employed by his enemies that the devil was in them. He was\nburned alive, under circumstances of great cruelty. [A very graphic\naccount of the execution of this unfortunate gentleman is to be found\nin the excellent romance of M. Alfred de Vigny, entitled \"Cinq Mars;\"\nbut if the reader wishes for a full and accurate detail of all the\ncircumstances of one of the most extraordinary trials upon record, he\nis referred to a work published anonymously, at Amsterdam, in 1693,\nentitled \"Histoire des Diables de Loudun, ou de la Possession des\nReligieuses Ursulines, et de la Condemnation et du Supplice d'Urbain\nGrandier.\"]\n\nA singular instance of the epidemic fear of witchcraft occurred at\nLille, in 1639. A pious, but not very sane lady, named Antoinette\nBourignon, founded a school, or hospice, in that city. One day, on\nentering the school-room, she imagined that she saw a great number of\nlittle black angels flying about the heads of the children. In great\nalarm, she told her pupils of what she had seen, warning them to beware\nof the devil, whose imps were hovering about them. The foolish woman\ncontinued daily to repeat the same story, and Satan and his power\nbecame the only subject of conversation, not only between the girls\nthemselves, but between them and their instructors. One of them at this\ntime ran away from the school. On being brought back and interrogated,\nshe said she had not run away, but had been carried away by the\ndevil--she was a witch, and had been one since the age of seven. Some\nother little girls in the school went into fits at this announcement,\nand, on their recovery, confessed that they also were witches. At last,\nthe whole of them, to the number of fifty, worked upon each other's\nimaginations to such a degree that they also confessed that they were\nwitches--that they attended the Domdaniel, or meeting of the\nfiends--that they could ride through the air on broom-sticks, feast on\ninfants' flesh, or creep through a key-hole.\n\nThe citizens of Lille were astounded at these disclosures. The clergy\nhastened to investigate the matter; many of them, to their credit,\nopenly expressed their opinion that the whole affair was an imposture:\nnot so the majority--they strenuously insisted that the confessions of\nthe children were valid, and that it was necessary to make an example\nby burning them all for witches. The poor parents, alarmed for their\noffspring, implored the examining Capuchins with tears in their eyes to\nsave their young lives, insisting that they were bewitched, and not\nbewitching. This opinion also gained ground in the town. Antoinette\nBourignon, who had put these absurd notions into the heads of the\nchildren, was accused of witchcraft, and examined before the council.\nThe circumstances of the case seemed so unfavourable towards her that\nshe would not stay for a second examination. Disguising herself as she\nbest could, she hastened out of Lille and escaped pursuit. If she had\nremained four hours longer, she would have been burned by judicial\nsentence, as a witch and a heretic.  It is to be hoped that, wherever\nshe went, she learned the danger of tampering with youthful minds, and\nwas never again entrusted with the management of children.\n\nThe Duke of Brunswick and the Elector of Menz were struck with the\ngreat cruelty exercised in the torture of suspected persons, and\nconvinced at the same time that no righteous judge would consider a\nconfession extorted by pain, and contradictory in itself, as sufficient\nevidence to justify the execution of any accused person. It is related\nof the Duke of Brunswick that he invited two learned Jesuits to his\nhouse, who were known to entertain strong opinions upon the subject of\nwitchcraft, with a view of showing them the cruelty and absurdity of\nsuch practises. A woman lay in the dungeon of the city accused of\nwitchcraft, and the Duke, having given previous instructions to the\nofficiating torturers, went with the two Jesuits to hear her\nconfession. By a series of artful leading questions, the poor creature,\nin the extremity of her anguish, was induced to confess that she had\noften attended the sabbath of the fiends upon the Brocken--that she had\nseen two Jesuits there, who had made themselves notorious, even among\nwitches, for their abominations--that she had seen them assume the form\nof goats, wolves, and other animals; and that many noted witches had\nborne them five, six, and seven children at a birth, who had heads like\ntoads and legs like spiders. Being asked if the Jesuits were far from\nher, she replied that they were in the room beside her. The Duke of\nBrunswick led his astounded friends away, and explained the stratagem.\nThis was convincing proof to both of them that thousands of persons had\nsuffered unjustly; they knew their own innocence, and shuddered to\nthink what their fate might have been, if an enemy, instead of a\nfriend, had put such a confession into the mouth of a criminal. One of\nthese Jesuits was Frederick Spee, the author of the \"Cautio\nCriminalis,\" published in 1631. This work, exposing the horrors of the\nwitch trials, had a most salutary effect in Germany: Schonbrunn,\nArchbishop and Elector of Menz, abolished the torture entirely within\nhis dominions, and his example was imitated by the Duke of Brunswick\nand other potentates. The number of supposed witches immediately\ndiminished, and the violence of the mania began to subside. The Elector\nof Brandenburg issued a rescript, in 1654, with respect to the case of\nAnna of Ellerbrock, a supposed witch, forbidding the use of torture,\nand stigmatizing the swimming of witches as an unjust, cruel, and\ndeceitful test.\n\nThis was the beginning of the dawn after the long-protracted darkness.\nThe tribunals no longer condemned witches to execution by hundreds in a\nyear. Wurzburg, the grand theatre of the burnings, burned but one,\nwhere, forty years previously, it had burned three score. From 1660 to\n1670, the electoral chambers in all parts of Germany constantly\ncommuted the sentence of death passed by the provincial tribunals into\nimprisonment for life, or burning on the cheek.\n\nA truer philosophy had gradually disabused the public mind.  Learned\nmen freed themselves from the trammels of a debasing superstition, and\ngovernments, both civil and ecclesiastical, repressed the popular\ndelusion they had so long encouraged. The Parliament of Normandy\ncondemned a number of women to death, in the year 1670, on the old\ncharge of riding on broomsticks to the Domdaniel; but Louis XIV.\ncommuted the sentence into banishment for life. The Parliament\nremonstrated, and sent the King the following remarkable request. The\nreader will, perhaps, be glad to see this document at length. It is of\nimportance, as the last effort of a legislative assembly to uphold this\ngreat error; and the arguments they used, and the instances they\nquoted, are in the highest degree curious. It reflects honour upon the\nmemory of Louis XIV. that he was not swayed by it.\n\n\"REQUEST OF THE PARLIAMENT OF ROUEN TO THE KING, IN 1670.\n\n\"SIRE,\n\n\"EMBOLDENED by the authority which your Majesty has committed into our\nhands in the province of Normandy, to try and punish offences, and more\nparticularly those offences of the nature of witchcraft, which tend to\nthe destruction of religion and the ruin of nations, we, your\nParliament, remonstrate humbly with your Majesty upon certain cases of\nthis kind which have been lately brought before us. We cannot permit\nthe letter addressed by your Majesty's command to the Attorney-General\nof this district, for the reprieve of certain persons condemned to\ndeath for witchcraft, and for the staying of proceedings in several\nother cases, to remain unnoticed, and without remarking upon the\nconsequences which may ensue. There is also a letter from your\nSecretary of State, declaring your Majesty's intention to commute the\npunishment of these criminals into one of perpetual banishment, and to\nsubmit to the opinion of the Procureur-General, and of the most learned\nmembers of the Parliament of Paris, whether, in the matter of\nwitchcraft, the jurisprudence of the Parliament of Rouen is to be\nfollowed in preference to that of the Parliament of Paris, and of the\nother parliaments of the kingdom which judge differently.\n\n\"Although by the ordinances of the Kings your predecessors, Parliaments\nhave been forbidden to pay any attention to lettres de cachet; we,\nnevertheless, from the knowledge which we have, in common with the\nwhole kingdom, of the care bestowed by your Majesty for the good of\nyour subjects, and from the submission and obedience to your\ncommandments which we have always manifested, have stayed all\nproceedings, in conformity to your orders; hoping that your Majesty,\nconsidering the importance of the crime of witchcraft, and the\nconsequences likely to ensue from its impunity, will be graciously\npleased to grant us once more your permission to continue the trials,\nand execute judgment upon those found guilty. And as, since we received\nthe letter of your Secretary of State, we have also been made\nacquainted with the determination of your Majesty, not only to commute\nthe sentence of death passed upon these witches into one of perpetual\nbanishment from the province, but to re-establish them in the\npossession of their goods and chattels, and of their good fame and\ncharacter, your Parliament have thought it their duty, on occasion of\nthese crimes, the greatest which men can commit, to make you acquainted\nwith the general and uniform feelings of the people of this province\nwith regard to them; it being, moreover, a question in which are\nconcerned the glory of God and the relief of your suffering subjects,\nwho groan under their fears from the threats and menaces of this sort\nof persons, and who feel the effects of them every day in the mortal\nand extraordinary maladies which attack them, and the surprising damage\nand loss of their possessions.\n\n\"Your Majesty knows well that there is no crime so opposed to the\ncommands of God as witchcraft, which destroys the very foundation of\nreligion, and draws strange abominations after it. It is for this\nreason, Sire, that the Scriptures pronounce the punishment of death\nagainst offenders, and that the church and the holy fathers have\nfulminated their anathemas, and that canonical decisions have one and\nall decreed the most severe punishments, to deter from this crime; and\nthat the Church of France, animated by the piety of the Kings your\npredecessors, has expressed so great a horror at it, that, not judging\nthe punishment of perpetual imprisonment, the highest it has the power\nto inflict, sufficiently severe, it has left such criminals to be dealt\nwith by the secular power.\n\n\"It has been the general feeling of all nations that such criminals\nought to be condemned to death, and all the ancients were of the same\nopinion. The law of the \"Twelve Tables,\" which was the principal of the\nRoman laws, ordains the same punishment. All jurisconsults agreed in\nit, as well as the constitutions of the Emperors, and more especially\nthose of Constantine and Theodosius, who, enlightened by the Gospel,\nnot only renewed the same punishment, but also deprived, expressly, all\npersons found guilty of witchcraft of the right of appeal, and declared\nthem to be unworthy of a prince's mercy. And Charles VIII, Sire,\ninspired by the same sentiments, passed that beautiful and severe\nordinance (cette belle et severe ordonnance), which enjoined the judges\nto punish witches according to the exigencies of the case, under a\npenalty of being themselves fined or imprisoned, or dismissed from\ntheir office; and decreed, at the same time, that all persons who\nrefused to denounce a witch, should be punished as accomplices; and\nthat all, on the contrary, who gave evidence against one, should be\nrewarded.\n\n\"From these considerations, Sire, and in the execution of so holy an\nordinance, your parliaments, by their decrees, proportion their\npunishments to the guilt of the offenders: and your Parliament of\nNormandy has never, until the present time, found that its practice was\ndifferent from that of other courts; for all the books which treat upon\nthis matter cite an infinite number of decrees condemning witches to be\nburnt, or broken on the wheel, or to other punishments. The following\nare examples:--In the time of Chilperic, as may be seen in Gregory of\nTours, b. vi, c. 35 of his History of France: all the decrees of the\nParliament of Paris passed according to, and in conformity with, this\nancient jurisprudence of the kingdom, cited by Imbert, in his \"Judicial\nPractice;\" all those cited by Monstrelet, in 1459, against the witches\nof Artois; the decrees of the same Parliament, of the 13th of October\n1573, against Mary Le Fief, native of Saumur; of the 21st of October\n1596, against the Sieur de Beaumont, who pleaded, in his defence, that\nhe had only sought the aid of the devil for the purpose of unbewitching\nthe afflicted and of curing diseases; of the 4th of July 1606, against\nFrancis du Bose; of the 20th of July 1582, against Abel de la Rue,\nnative of Coulommiers; of the 2nd of October 1593, against Rousseau and\nhis daughter; of 1608, against another Rousseau and one Peley, for\nwitchcraft and adoration of the devil at the Sabbath, under the figure\nof a he-goat, as confessed by them; the decree of 4th of February 1615,\nagainst Leclerc, who appealed from the sentence of the Parliament of\nOrleans, and who was condemned for having attended the Sabbath, and\nconfessed, as well as two of his accomplices, who died in prison, that\nhe had adored the devil, renounced his baptism and his faith in God,\ndanced the witches' dance, and offered up unholy sacrifices; the\ndecrees of the 6th of May 1616, against a man named Leger, on a similar\naccusation; the pardon granted by Charles IX to Trois Echelles, upon\ncondition of revealing his accomplices, but afterwards revoked for\nrenewed sorcery on his part; the decree of the Parliament of Paris,\ncited by Mornac in 1595; the judgments passed in consequence of the\ncommission given by Henry IV to the Sieur de Lancre, councillor of the\nParliament of Bourdeaux; of the 20th of March 1619, against Etienne\nAudibert; those passed by the Chamber of Nerac, on the 26th of June\n1620, against several witches; those passed by the Parliament of\nToulouse in 1577, as cited by Gregory Tolosanus, against four hundred\npersons accused of this crime, and who were all marked with the sign of\nthe devil. Besides all these, we might recall to your Majesty's\nrecollection the various decrees of the Parliament of Provence,\nespecially in the case of Gaufredy in 1611; the decrees of the\nParliament of Dijon, and those of the Parliament of Rennes, following\nthe example of the condemnation of the Marshal de Rays, who was burned\nin 1441, for the crime of witchcraft, in presence of the Duke of\nBrittany;--all these examples, Sire, prove that the accusation of\nwitchcraft has always been punished with death by the Parliaments of\nyour kingdom, and justify the uniformity of their practice.\n\n\"These, Sire, are the motives upon which your Parliament of Normandy\nhas acted in decreeing the punishment of death against the persons\nlately brought before it for this crime. If it has happened that, on\nany occasion, these parliaments, and the Parliament of Normandy among\nthe rest, have condemned the guilty to a less punishment than that of\ndeath, it was for the reason that their guilt was not of the deepest\ndye; your Majesty, and the Kings your predecessors, having left full\nliberty to the various tribunals to whom they delegated the\nadministration of justice, to decree such punishment as was warranted\nby the evidence brought before them.\n\n\"After so many authorities, and punishments ordained by human and\ndivine laws, we humbly supplicate your Majesty to reflect once more\nupon the extraordinary results which proceed from the malevolence of\nthis sort of people--on the deaths from unknown diseases, which are\noften the consequences of their menaces--on the loss of the goods and\nchattels of your subjects--on the proofs of guilt continually afforded\nby the insensibility of the marks upon the accused--on the sudden\ntransportation of bodies from one place to another--on the sacrifices\nand nocturnal assemblies, and other facts, corroborated by the\ntestimony of ancient and modern authors, and verified by so many\neye-witnesses, composed partly of accomplices, and partly of people who\nhad no interest in the trials beyond the love of truth, and confirmed,\nmoreover, by the confessions of the accused parties themselves; and\nthat, Sire, with so much agreement and conformity between the different\ncases, that the most ignorant persons convicted of this crime have\nspoken to the same circumstances, and in nearly the same words, as the\nmost celebrated authors who have written about it, all of which may be\neasily proved to your Majesty's satisfaction by the records of various\ntrials before your parliaments.\n\n\"These, Sire, are truths so intimately bound up with the principles of\nour religion, that, extraordinary although they be, no person has been\nable to this time to call them in question. If some have cited, in\nopposition to these truths, the pretended canon of the Council of\nAncyre, and a passage from St. Augustin, in a treatise upon the 'Spirit\nand the Soul', it has been without foundation; and it would be easy to\nconvince your Majesty that neither the one nor the other ought to be\naccounted of any authority; and, besides that, the canon, in this\nsense, would be contrary to the opinion of all succeeding councils of\nthe church, Cardinal Baronius, and all learned commentators, agree that\nit is not to be found in any old edition. In effect, in those editions\nwherein it is found, it is in another language, and is in direct\ncontradiction to the twenty-third canon of the same council, which\ncondemns sorcery, according to all preceding constitutions. Even\nsupposing that this canon was really promulgated by the Council of\nAncyre, we must observe that it was issued in the second century, when\nthe principal attention of the Church was directed to the destruction\nof paganism. For this reason, it condemns that class of women who said\nthey could pass through the air, and over immense regions, with Diana\nand Herodias, and enjoins all preachers to teach the falsehood of such\nan opinion, in order to deter people from the worship of these false\ndivinities; but it does not question the power of the devil over the\nhuman body, which is, in fact, proved by the Holy Gospel of Jesus\nChrist himself. And with regard, Sire, to the pretended passage of St.\nAugustin, everybody knows that it was not written by him, because the\nwriter, whoever he was, cites Boetius, who died more than eighty years\nafter the time of St. Augustin. Besides, there is still more convincing\nproof in the fact, that the same father establishes the truth of\nwitchcraft in all his writings, and more particularly in his 'City of\nGod;' and in his first volume, question the 25th, wherein he states\nthat sorcery is a communion between man and the devil, which all good\nChristians ought to look upon with horror.\n\n\"Taking all these things into consideration, Sire, the officers of your\nParliament hope, from the justice of your Majesty, that you will be\ngraciously pleased to receive the humble remonstrances they have taken\nthe liberty to make. They are compelled, for the acquittal of their own\nconsciences and in discharge of their duty, to make known to your\nMajesty, that the decrees they passed against the sorcerers and witches\nbrought before them, were passed after a mature deliberation on the\npart of all the judges present, and that nothing has been done therein\nwhich is not conformable to the universal jurisprudence of the kingdom,\nand for the general welfare of your Majesty's subjects, of whom there\nis not one who can say that he is secure from the malevolence of such\ncriminals. We therefore supplicate your Majesty to suffer us to carry\ninto effect the sentences we passed, and to proceed with the trial of\nthe other persons accused of the same crime; and that the piety of your\nMajesty will not suffer to be introduced during your reign an opinion\ncontrary to the principles of that holy religion for which you have\nalways employed so gloriously both your cares and your arms.\"\n\nLouis, as we have already mentioned, paid no attention to this appeal.\nThe lives of the old women were spared, and prosecutions for mere\nwitchcraft, unconnected with other offences, were discontinued\nthroughout France. In 1680 an act was passed for the punishment, not of\nwitches, but of pretenders to witchcraft, fortune-tellers,\ndivineresses, and poisoners.\n\nThus the light broke in upon Germany, France, England, and Scotland\nabout the same time, gradually growing clearer and clearer till the\nmiddle of the eighteenth century, when witchcraft was finally reckoned\namongst exploded doctrines, and the belief in it confined to the\nuttermost vulgar. Twice, however, did the madness burst forth again as\nfurious, while it lasted, as ever it had been. The first time in\nSweden, in 1669, and the second in Germany, so late as 1749. Both these\ninstances merit particular mention. The first is one of the most\nextraordinary upon record, and for atrocity and absurdity is\nunsurpassed in the annals of any nation.\n\nIt having been reported to the King of Sweden that the little village\nof Mohra, in the province of Dalecarlia, was troubled exceedingly with\nwitches, he appointed a commission of clergy and laymen to trace the\nrumour to its source, with full powers to punish the guilty. On the\n12th of August 1669, the commissioners arrived in the bewitched\nvillage, to the great joy of the credulous inhabitants.  On the\nfollowing day the whole population, amounting to three thousand\npersons, assembled in the church. A sermon was preached, \"declaring the\nmiserable case of those people that suffered themselves to be deluded\nby the devil,\" and fervent prayer was offered up that God would remove\nthe scourge from among them.\n\nThe whole assembly then adjourned to the rector's house, filling all\nthe street before it, when the King's commission was read, charging\nevery person who knew anything of the witchery, to come forward and\ndeclare the truth. A passion of tears seized upon the multitude; men,\nwomen, and children began to weep and sob, and all promised to divulge\nwhat they had heard or knew. In this frame of mind they were dismissed\nto their homes. On the following day they were again called together,\nwhen the depositions of several persons were taken publicly before them\nall. The result was that seventy persons, including fifteen children,\nwere taken into custody. Numbers also were arrested in the neighbouring\ndistrict of Elfdale. Being put to the torture, they all confessed their\nguilt. They said they used to go to a gravel-pit that lay hard by the\ncross-way, where they put a vest upon their heads, and danced \"round\nand round and round about.\" They then went to the cross-way, and called\nthree times upon the devil; the first time in a low still voice; the\nsecond, somewhat louder; and the third, very loudly, with these words,\n\"Antecessor, come, and carry us to Blockula!\" This invocation never\nfailed to bring him to their view.  He generally appeared as a little\nold man, in a grey coat, with red and blue stockings, with exceedingly\nlong garters. He had besides a very high-crowned hat, with bands of\nmany-coloured linen enfolded about it, and a long red beard, that hung\ndown to his middle.\n\nThe first question he put to them was, whether they would serve him\nsoul and body? On their answering in the affirmative, he told them to\nmake ready for the journey to Blockula. It was necessary to procure, in\nthe first place, \"some scrapings of altars and filings of church\nclocks.\" Antecessor then gave them a horn, with some salve in it,\nwherewith they anointed themselves. These preparations ended, he\nbrought beasts for them to ride upon, horses, asses, goats, and\nmonkeys; and, giving them a saddle, a hammer, and a nail, uttered the\nword of command, and away they went. Nothing stopped them. They flew\nover churches, high walls, rocks, and mountains, until they came to the\ngreen meadow where Blockula was situated. Upon these occasions they\ncarried as many children with them as they could; for the devil, they\nsaid, \"did plague and whip them if they did not procure him children,\ninsomuch that they had no peace or quiet for him.\"\n\nMany parents corroborated a part of this evidence, stating that their\nchildren had repeatedly told them that they had been carried away in\nthe night to Blockula, where the devil had beaten them black and blue.\nThey had seen the marks in the morning, but they soon disappeared. One\nlittle girl was examined, who swore positively that she was carried\nthrough the air by the witches, and when at a great height she uttered\nthe holy name of Jesus. She immediately fell to the ground, and made a\ngreat hole in her side. \"The devil, however, picked her up, healed her\nside, and carried her away to Blockula.\" She added, and her mother\nconfirmed her statement, that she had till that day \"an exceeding great\npain in her side.\" This was a clencher, and the nail of conviction was\ndriven home to the hearts of the judges.\n\nThe place called Blockula, whither they were carried, was a large\nhouse, with a gate to it, \"in a delicate meadow, whereof they could see\nno end.\" There was a very long table in it, at which the witches sat\ndown; and in other rooms \"there were very lovely and delicate beds for\nthem to sleep upon.\"\n\nAfter a number of ceremonies had been performed, by which they bound\nthemselves, body and soul, to the service of Antecessor, they sat down\nto a feast, composed of broth, made of colworts and bacon, oatmeal,\nbread and butter, milk and cheese. The devil always took the chair, and\nsometimes played to them on the harp or the fiddle, while they were\neating. After dinner they danced in a ring, sometimes naked, and\nsometimes in their clothes, cursing and swearing all the time.  Some of\nthe women added particulars too horrible and too obscene for repetition.\n\nOnce the devil pretended to be dead, that he might see whether his\npeople regretted him. They instantly set up a loud wail, and wept three\ntears each for him, at which he was so pleased, that he jumped up among\nthem, and hugged in his arms those who had been most obstreperous in\ntheir sorrow.\n\nSuch were the principal details given by the children, and corroborated\nby the confessions of the full-grown witches. Anything more absurd was\nnever before stated in a court of justice. Many of the accused\ncontradicted themselves most palpably; but the commissioners gave no\nheed to discrepancies. One of them, the parson of the district, stated,\nin the course of the inquiry, that on a particular night, which he\nmentioned, he had been afflicted with a headach so agonizing, that he\ncould not account for it otherwise than by supposing he was bewitched.\nIn fact, he thought a score of witches must have been dancing on the\ncrown of his head. This announcement excited great horror among the\npious dames of the auditory, who loudly expressed their wonder that the\ndevil should have power to hurt so good a man. One poor witch, who lay\nin the very jaws of death, confessed that she knew too well the cause\nof the minister's headach.  The devil had sent her with a sledge hammer\nand a large nail, to drive into the good man's skull. She had hammered\nat it for some time, but the skull was so enormously thick, that she\nmade no impression upon it. Every hand was held up in astonishment. The\npious minister blessed God that his skull was so solid, and he became\nrenowned for his thick head all the days of his life. Whether the witch\nintended a joke does not appear, but she was looked upon as a criminal\nmore than usually atrocious. Seventy persons were condemned to death on\nthese so awful yet so ridiculous confessions. Twenty-three of them were\nburned together, in one fire, in the village of Mohra, in the presence\nof thousands of delighted spectators. On the following day fifteen\nchildren were murdered in the same manner; offered up in sacrifice to\nthe bloody Moloch of superstition. The remaining thirty-two were\nexecuted at the neighbouring town of Fahluna. Besides these, fifty-six\nchildren were found guilty of witchcraft in a minor degree, and\nsentenced to various punishments, such as running the gauntlet,\nimprisonment, and public whipping once a week for a twelvemonth.\n\nLong after the occurrence of this case, it was cited as one of the most\nconvincing proofs upon record of the prevalence of witchcraft.  When\nmen wish to construct or support a theory, how they torture facts into\ntheir service! The lying whimsies of a few sick children, encouraged by\nfoolish parents, and drawn out by superstitious neighbours, were\nsufficient to set a country in a flame. If, instead of commissioners as\ndeeply sunk in the slough of ignorance as the people they were sent\namongst, there had been deputed a few men firm in courage and clear in\nunderstanding, how different would have been the result! Some of the\npoor children who were burned would have been sent to an infirmary;\nothers would have been well flogged; the credulity of the parents would\nhave been laughed at, and the lives of seventy persons spared. The\nbelief in witchcraft remains in Sweden to this day; but, happily, the\nannals of that country present no more such instances of lamentable\naberration of intellect as the one just cited.\n\nIn New England, about the same time, the colonists were scared by\nsimilar stories of the antics of the devil. All at once a fear seized\nupon the multitude, and supposed criminals were arrested day after day\nin such numbers, that the prisons were found too small to contain them.\nA girl, named Goodwin, the daughter of a mason, who was hypochondriac\nand subject to fits, imagined that an old Irishwoman, named Glover, had\nbewitched her. Her two brothers, in whose constitutions there was\napparently a predisposition to similar fits, went off in the same way,\ncrying out that the devil and Dame Glover were tormenting them. At\ntimes their joints were so stiff that they could not be moved, while at\nothers, said the neighbours, they were so flexible, that the bones\nappeared softened into sinews. The supposed witch was seized, and, as\nshe could not repeat the Lord's Prayer without making a mistake in it,\nshe was condemned and executed.\n\nBut the popular excitement was not allayed. One victim was not enough:\nthe people waited agape for new disclosures. Suddenly two hysteric\ngirls in another family fell into fits daily, and the cry of witchcraft\nresounded from one end of the colony to the other. The feeling of\nsuffocation in the throat, so common in cases of hysteria, was said by\nthe patients to be caused by the devil himself, who had stuck balls in\nthe windpipe to choke them. They felt the pricking of thorns in every\npart of the body, and one of them vomited needles. The case of these\ngirls, who were the daughter and niece of a Mr. Parris, the minister of\na Calvinist chapel, excited so much attention, that all the weak women\nin the colony began to fancy themselves similarly afflicted. The more\nthey brooded on it, the more convinced they became. The contagion of\nthis mental disease was as great as if it had been a pestilence. One\nafter the other the women fainted away, asserting, on their recovery,\nthat they had seen the spectres of witches. Where there were three or\nfour girls in a family, they so worked, each upon the diseased\nimagination of the other, that they fell into fits five or six times in\na day. Some related that the devil himself appeared to them, bearing in\nhis hand a parchment roll, and promising that if they would sign an\nagreement transferring to him their immortal souls, they should be\nimmediately relieved from fits and all the ills of the flesh. Others\nasserted that they saw witches only, who made them similar promises,\nthreatening that they should never be free from aches and pains till\nthey had agreed to become the devil's. When they refused, the witches\npinched, or bit, or pricked them with long pins and needles. More than\ntwo hundred persons named by these mischievous visionaries, were thrown\ninto prison. They were of all ages and conditions of life, and many of\nthem of exemplary character. No less than nineteen were condemned and\nexecuted before reason returned to the minds of the colonists. The most\nhorrible part of this lamentable history is, that among the victims\nthere was a little child only five years old. Some women swore that\nthey had seen it repeatedly in company with the devil, and that it had\nbitten them often with its little teeth, for refusing to sign a compact\nwith the Evil One. It can hardly increase our feelings of disgust and\nabhorrence when we learn that this insane community actually tried and\nexecuted a dog for the same offence!\n\nOne man, named Cory, stoutly refused to plead to the preposterous\nindictment against him. As was the practice in such eases, he was\npressed to death. It is told of the Sheriff of New England, who\nsuperintended the execution, that when this unhappy man thrust out his\ntongue in his mortal agony, he seized hold of a cane, and crammed it\nback again into the mouth. If ever there were a fiend in human form, it\nwas this Sheriff; a man, who, if the truth were known, perhaps plumed\nhimself upon his piety--thought he was doing God good service, and\n\n  \"Hoped to merit heaven by making earth a hell!\"\n\nArguing still in the firm belief of witchcraft, the bereaved people\nbegan to inquire, when they saw their dearest friends snatched away\nfrom them by these wide-spreading accusations, whether the whole\nproceedings were not carried on by the agency of the devil. Might not\nthe great enemy have put false testimony into the mouths of the\nwitnesses, or might not the witnesses be witches themselves? Every man\nwho was in danger of losing his wife, his child, or his sister,\nembraced this doctrine with avidity. The revulsion was as sudden as the\nfirst frenzy. All at once, the colonists were convinced of their error.\nThe judges put a stop to the prosecutions, even of those who had\nconfessed their guilt. The latter were no sooner at liberty than they\nretracted all they had said, and the greater number hardly remembered\nthe avowals which agony had extorted from them. Eight persons, who had\nbeen tried and condemned, were set free; and gradually girls ceased to\nhave fits and to talk of the persecutions of the devil. The judge who\nhad condemned the first criminal executed on this charge, was so\nsmitten with sorrow and humiliation at his folly, that he set apart the\nanniversary of that day as one of solemn penitence and fasting. He\nstill clung to the belief in witchcraft; no new light had broken in\nupon him on that subject, but, happily for the community, the delusion\nhad taken a merciful turn. The whole colony shared the feeling; the\njurors on the different trials openly expressed their penitence in the\nchurches; and those who had suffered were regarded as the victims, and\nnot the accomplices of Satan.\n\nIt is related that the Indian tribes in New England were sorely puzzled\nat the infatuation of the settlers, and thought them either a race\ninferior to, or more sinful than the French colonists in the vicinity,\namongst whom, as they remarked, \"the Great Spirit sent no witches.\"\n\nReturning again to the continent of Europe, we find that, after the\nyear 1680, men became still wiser upon this subject. For twenty years\nthe populace were left to their belief, but governments in general gave\nit no aliment in the shape of executions. The edict of Louis XIV. gave\na blow to the superstition, from which it never recovered. The last\nexecution in the Protestant cantons of Switzerland was at Geneva, in\n1652. The various potentates of Germany, although they could not stay\nthe trials, invariably commuted the sentence into imprisonment, in all\ncases where the pretended witch was accused of pure witchcraft,\nunconnected with any other crime. In the year 1701, Thomasius, the\nlearned professor at the University of Halle, delivered his inaugural\nthesis, \"De Crimine Magiae,\" which struck another blow at the falling\nmonster of popular error. But a faith so strong as that in witchcraft\nwas not to be eradicated at once: the arguments of learned men did not\npenetrate to the villages and hamlets, but still they achieved great\nthings; they rendered the belief an unworking faith, and prevented the\nsupply of victims, on which for so many ages it had battened and grown\nstrong.\n\nOnce more the delusion broke out; like a wild beast wounded to the\ndeath, it collected all its remaining energies for the final\nconvulsion, which was to show how mighty it had once been. Germany,\nwhich had nursed the frightful error in its cradle, tended it on its\ndeath-bed, and Wurzburg, the scene of so many murders on the same\npretext, was destined to be the scene of the last. That it might lose\nno portion of its bad renown, the last murder was as atrocious as the\nfirst. This case offers a great resemblance to that of the witches of\nMohra and New England, except in the number of its victims. It happened\nso late as the year 1749, to the astonishment and disgust of the rest\nof Europe.\n\nA number of young women in a convent at Wurzburg fancied themselves\nbewitched; they felt, like all hysteric subjects, a sense of\nsuffocation in the throat. They went into fits repeatedly; and one of\nthem, who had swallowed needles, evacuated them at abscesses, which\nformed in different parts of the body. The cry of sorcery was raised,\nand a young woman, named Maria Renata Sanger, was arrested on the\ncharge of having leagued with the devil, to bewitch five of the young\nladies. It was sworn on the trial that Maria had been frequently seen\nto clamber over the convent walls in the shape of a pig--that,\nproceeding to the cellar, she used to drink the best wine till she was\nintoxicated; and then start suddenly up in her own form. Other girls\nasserted that she used to prowl about the roof like a cat, and often\npenetrate into their chamber, and frighten them by her dreadful\nhowlings. It was also said that she had been seen in the shape of a\nhare, milking the cows dry in the meadows belonging to the convent;\nthat she used to perform as an actress on the boards of Drury Lane\ntheatre in London, and, on the very same night, return upon a\nbroomstick to Wurzburg, and afflict the young ladies with pains in all\ntheir limbs. Upon this evidence she was condemned, and burned alive in\nthe market-place of Wurzburg.\n\nHere ends this frightful catalogue of murder and superstition.  Since\nthat day, the belief in witchcraft has fled from the populous abodes of\nmen, and taken refuge in remote villages and districts too wild,\nrugged, and inhospitable to afford a resting-place for the foot of\ncivilization. Rude fishers and uneducated labourers still attribute\nevery phenomenon of nature which they cannot account for, to the devil\nand witches. Catalepsy, that wondrous disease, is still thought by\nignorant gossips to be the work of Satan; and hypochondriacs,\nuninformed by science of the nature of their malady, devoutly believe\nin the reality of their visions. The reader would hardly credit the\nextent of the delusion upon this subject in the very heart of England\nat this day. Many an old woman leads a life of misery from the\nunfeeling insults of her neighbours, who raise the scornful finger and\nhooting voice at her, because in her decrepitude she is ugly, spiteful,\nperhaps insane, and realizes in her personal appearance the description\npreserved by tradition of the witches of yore. Even in the\nneighbourhood of great towns the taint remains of this once\nwidely-spread contagion. If no victims fall beneath it, the\nenlightenment of the law is all that prevents a recurrence of scenes as\nhorrid as those of the seventeeth century. Hundreds upon hundreds of\nwitnesses could be found to swear to absurdities as great as those\nasserted by the infamous Matthew Hopkins.\n\nIn the Annual Register for 1760, an instance of the belief in\nwitchcraft is related, which shows how superstition lingers. A dispute\narose in the little village of Glen, in Leicestershire, between two old\nwomen, each of whom vehemently accused the other of witchcraft.  The\nquarrel at last ran so high that a challenge ensued, and they both\nagreed to be tried by the ordeal of swimming. They accordingly stripped\nto their shifts--procured some men, who tied their thumbs and great\ntoes together, cross-wise, and then, with a cart-rope about their\nmiddle, suffered themselves to be thrown into a pool of water.  One of\nthem sank immediately, but the other continued struggling a short time\nupon the surface of the water, which the mob deeming an infallible sign\nof her guilt, pulled her out, and insisted that she should immediately\nimpeach all her accomplices in the craft. She accordingly told them\nthat, in the neighbouring village of Burton, there were several old\nwomen as \"much witches as she was.\" Happily for her, this negative\ninformation was deemed sufficient, and a student in astrology, or\n\"white-witch,\" coming up at the time, the mob, by his direction,\nproceeded forthwith to Burton in search of all the delinquents. After a\nlittle consultation on their arrival, they went to the old woman's\nhouse on whom they had fixed the strongest suspicion. The poor old\ncreature on their approach locked the outer door, and from the window\nof an upstairs room asked what they wanted.  They informed her that she\nwas charged with being guilty of witchcraft, and that they were come to\nduck her; remonstrating with her at the same time upon the necessity of\nsubmission to the ordeal, that, if she were innocent, all the world\nmight know it. Upon her persisting in a positive refusal to come down,\nthey broke open the door and carried her out by force, to a deep\ngravel-pit full of water.  They tied her thumbs and toes together and\nthrew her into the water, where they kept her for several minutes,\ndrawing her out and in two or three times by the rope round her middle.\nNot being able to satisfy themselves whether she were a witch or no,\nthey at last let her go, or, more properly speaking, they left her on\nthe bank to walk home by herself, if she ever recovered. Next day, they\ntried the same experiment upon another woman, and afterwards upon a\nthird; but, fortunately, neither of the victims lost her life from this\nbrutality.  Many of the ringleaders in the outrage were apprehended\nduring the week, and tried before the justices at quarter-sessions. Two\nof them were sentenced to stand in the pillory and to be imprisoned for\na month; and as many as twenty more were fined in small sums for the\nassault, and bound over to keep the peace for a twelvemonth.\n\n\"So late as the year 1785,\" says Arnot, in his collection and\nabridgment of Criminal Trials in Scotland, \"it was the custom among the\nsect of Seceders to read from the pulpit an annual confession of sins,\nnational and personal; amongst the former of which was particularly\nmentioned the 'Repeal by Parliament of the penal statute against\nwitches, contrary to the express laws of God.'\"\n\nMany houses are still to be found in England with the horse-shoe (the\ngrand preservative against witchcraft) nailed against the threshold. If\nany over-wise philosopher should attempt to remove them, the chances\nare that he would have more broken bones than thanks for his\ninterference. Let any man walk into Cross-street, Hatton-Garden, and\nfrom thence into Bleeding-heart Yard, and learn the tales still told\nand believed of one house in that neighbourhood, and he will ask\nhimself in astonishment if such things can be in the nineteenth\ncentury. The witchcraft of Lady Hatton, the wife of the famous Sir\nChristopher, so renowned for his elegant dancing in the days of\nElizabeth, is as devoutly believed as the Gospels. The room is to be\nseen where the devil seized her after the expiration of the contract he\nhad made with her, and bore her away bodily to the pit of Tophet: the\npump against which he dashed her is still pointed out, and the spot\nwhere her heart was found, after he had torn it out of her bosom with\nhis iron claws, has received the name of Bleeding-heart Yard, in\nconfirmation of the story. Whether the horse-shoe still remains upon\nthe door of the haunted house, to keep away other witches, is\nuncertain; but there it was, twelve or thirteen years ago. The writer\nresided at that time in the house alluded to, and well remembers that\nmore than one old woman begged for admittance repeatedly, to satisfy\nthemselves that it was in its proper place. One poor creature,\napparently insane, and clothed in rags, came to the door with a\ntremendous double-knock, as loud as that of a fashionable footman, and\nwalked straight along the passage to the horse-shoe. Great was the\nwonderment of the inmates, especially when the woman spat upon the\nhorse-shoe, and expressed her sorrow that she could do no harm while it\nremained there. After spitting upon, and kicking it again and again,\nshe coolly turned round and left the house, without saying a word to\nanybody. This poor creature perhaps intended a joke, but the\nprobability is that she imagined herself a witch. In Saffron Hill,\nwhere she resided, her ignorant neighbours gave her that character, and\nlooked upon her with no little fear and aversion.\n\nMore than one example of the popular belief in witchcraft occurred in\nthe neighbourhood of Hastings so lately as the year 1830. An aged\nwoman, who resided in the Rope-walk of that town, was so repulsive in\nher appearance, that she was invariably accused of being a witch by all\nthe ignorant people who knew her. She was bent completely double; and\nthough very old, her eye was unusually bright and malignant. She wore a\nred cloak, and supported herself on a crutch: she was, to all outward\nappearance, the very beau ideal of a witch. So dear is power to the\nhuman heart, that this old woman actually encouraged the popular\nsuperstition: she took no pains to remove the ill impression, but\nseemed to delight that she, old and miserable as she was, could keep in\nawe so many happier and stronger fellow-creatures. Timid girls crouched\nwith fear when they met her, and many would go a mile out of their way\nto avoid her. Like the witches of the olden time, she was not sparing\nof her curses against those who offended her. The child of a woman who\nresided within two doors of her, was afflicted with lameness, and the\nmother constantly asserted that the old woman had bewitched her. All\nthe neighbours credited the tale. It was believed, too, that she could\nassume the form of a cat. Many a harmless puss has been hunted almost\nto the death by mobs of men and boys, upon the supposition that the\nanimal would start up before them in the true shape of Mother * * * * *.\n\nIn the same town there resided a fisherman,--who is, probably, still\nalive, and whose name, for that reason, we forbear to mention,--who was\nthe object of unceasing persecution, because it was said that he had\nsold himself to the devil. It was currently reported that he could\ncreep through a keyhole, and that he had made a witch of his daughter,\nin order that he might have the more power over his fellows.  It was\nalso believed that he could sit on the points of pins and needles, and\nfeel no pain. His brother-fishermen put him to this test whenever they\nhad an opportunity. In the alehouses which he frequented, they often\nplaced long needles in the cushions of the chairs, in such a manner\nthat he could not fail to pierce himself when he sat down. The result\nof these experiments tended to confirm their faith in his supernatural\npowers. It was asserted that he never flinched. Such was the popular\nfeeling in the fashionable town of Hastings only seven years ago; very\nprobably it is the same now.\n\nIn the north of England, the superstition lingers to an almost\ninconceivable extent. Lancashire abounds with witch-doctors, a set of\nquacks, who pretend to cure diseases inflicted by the devil. The\npractices of these worthies may be judged of by the following case,\nreported in the \"Hertford Reformer,\" of the 23rd of June, 1838. The\nwitch-doctor alluded to is better known by the name of the cunning man,\nand has a large practice in the counties of Lincoln and Nottingham.\nAccording to the writer in \"The Reformer,\" the dupe, whose name is not\nmentioned, had been for about two years afflicted with a painful\nabscess, and had been prescribed for without relief by more than one\nmedical gentleman. He was urged by some of his friends, not only in his\nown village, but in neighbouring ones, to consult the witch-doctor, as\nthey were convinced he was under some evil influence.  He agreed, and\nsent his wife to the cunning man, who lived in New Saint Swithin's, in\nLincoln. She was informed by this ignorant impostor that her husband's\ndisorder was an infliction of the devil, occasioned by his next-door\nneighbours, who had made use of certain charms for that purpose. From\nthe description he gave of the process, it appears to be the same as\nthat employed by Dr. Fian and Gellie Duncan, to work woe upon King\nJames. He stated that the neighbours, instigated by a witch, whom he\npointed out, took some wax, and moulded it before the fire into the\nform of her husband, as near as they could represent him; they then\npierced the image with pins on all sides--repeated the Lord's Prayer\nbackwards, and offered prayers to the devil that he would fix his\nstings into the person whom that figure represented, in like manner as\nthey pierced it with pins. To counteract the effects of this diabolical\nprocess, the witch-doctor prescribed a certain medicine, and a charm to\nbe worn next the body, on that part where the disease principally lay.\nThe patient was to repeat the 109th and 119th Psalms every day, or the\ncure would not be effectual. The fee which he claimed for this advice\nwas a guinea.\n\nSo efficacious is faith in the cure of any malady, that the patient\nactually felt much better after a three weeks' course of this\nprescription. The notable charm which the quack had given was\nafterwards opened, and found to be a piece of parchment, covered with\nsome cabalistic characters and signs of the planets.\n\nThe next-door neighbours were in great alarm that the witch-doctor\nwould, on the solicitation of the recovering patient, employ some means\nto punish them for their pretended witchcraft. To escape the\ninfliction, they feed another cunning man, in Nottinghamshire, who told\nthem of a similar charm, which would preserve them from all the malice\nof their enemies. The writer concludes by saying that, \"the doctor, not\nlong after he had been thus consulted, wrote to say that he had\ndiscovered that his patient was not afflicted by Satan, as he had\nimagined, but by God, and would continue, more or less, in the same\nstate till his life's end.\"\n\nAn impostor carried on a similar trade in the neighbourhood of\nTunbridge Wells, about the year 1830. He had been in practice for\nseveral years, and charged enormous fees for his advice. This fellow\npretended to be the seventh son of a seventh son, and to be endowed in\nconsequence with miraculous powers for the cure of all diseases, but\nespecially of those resulting from witchcraft. It was not only the poor\nwho employed him, but ladies who rode in their carriages. He was often\nsent for from a distance of sixty or seventy miles by these people, who\npaid all his expenses to and fro, besides rewarding him handsomely. He\nwas about eighty years of age, and his extremely venerable appearance\naided his imposition in no slight degree. His name was Okey, or Oakley.\n\nIn France, the superstition at this day is even more prevalent than it\nis in England. Garinet, in his history of Magic and Sorcery in that\ncountry, cites upwards of twenty instances which occurred between the\nyears 1805 and 1818. In the latter year, no less than three tribunals\nwere occupied with trials originating in this humiliating belief: we\nshall cite only one of them. Julian Desbourdes, aged fifty-three, a\nmason, and inhabitant of the village of Thilouze, near Bordeaux, was\ntaken suddenly ill, in the month of January 1818. As he did not know\nhow to account for his malady, he suspected at last that he was\nbewitched. He communicated this suspicion to his son-in-law, Bridier,\nand they both went to consult a sort of idiot, named Baudouin, who\npassed for a conjuror, or white-witch. This man told them that\nDesbourdes was certainly bewitched, and offered to accompany them to\nthe house of an old man, named Renard, who, he said, was undoubtedly\nthe criminal. On the night of the 23rd of January all three proceeded\nstealthily to the dwelling of Renard, and accused him of afflicting\npersons with diseases, by the aid of the devil.  Desbourdes fell on his\nknees, and earnestly entreated to be restored to his former health,\npromising that he would take no measures against him for the evil he\nhad done. The old man denied in the strongest terms that he was a\nwizard; and when Desbourdes still pressed him to remove the spell from\nhim, he said he knew nothing about the spell, and refused to remove it.\nThe idiot Baudouin, the white-witch, now interfered, and told his\ncompanions that no relief for the malady could ever be procured until\nthe old man confessed his guilt. To force him to confession they\nlighted some sticks of sulphur, which they had brought with them for\nthe purpose, and placed them under the old man's nose. In a few\nmoments, he fell down suffocated and apparently lifeless. They were all\ngreatly alarmed; and thinking that they had killed the man, they\ncarried him out and threw him into a neighbouring pond, hoping to make\nit appear that he had fallen in accidentally. The pond, however, was\nnot very deep, and the coolness of the water reviving the old man, he\nopened his eyes and sat up.  Desbourdes and Bridier, who were still\nwaiting on the bank, were now more alarmed than before, lest he should\nrecover and inform against them. They, therefore, waded into the\npond--seized their victim by the hair of the head--beat him severely,\nand then held him under water till he was drowned.\n\nThey were all three apprehended on the charge of murder a few days\nafterwards. Desbourdes and Bridier were found guilty of aggravated\nmanslaughter only, and sentenced to be burnt on the back, and to work\nin the galleys for life. The white-witch Baudouin was acquitted, on the\nground of insanity.\n\nM. Garinet further informs us that France, at the time he wrote (1818),\nwas overrun by a race of fellows, who made a trade of casting out\ndevils and finding out witches. He adds, also, that many of the priests\nin the rural districts encouraged the superstition of their\nparishioners, by resorting frequently to exorcisms, whenever any\nfoolish persons took it into their heads that a spell had been thrown\nover them. He recommended, as a remedy for the evil, that all these\nexorcists, whether lay or clerical, should be sent to the galleys, and\nthat the number of witches would then very sensibly diminish.\n\nMany other instances of this lingering belief might be cited both in\nFrance and Great Britain, and indeed in every other country in Europe.\nSo deeply rooted are some errors that ages cannot remove them.  The\npoisonous tree that once overshadowed the land, may be cut down by the\nsturdy efforts of sages and philosophers--the sun may shine clearly\nupon spots where venemous things once nestled in security and shade;\nbut still the entangled roots are stretched beneath the surface, and\nmay be found by those who dig. Another king, like James I, might make\nthem vegetate again; and, more mischievous still, another pope, like\nInnocent VIII, might raise the decaying roots to strength and verdure.\nStill, it is consoling to think, that the delirium has passed away;\nthat the raging madness has given place to a milder folly; and that we\nmay now count by units the votaries of a superstition which, in former\nages, numbered its victims by tens of thousands, and its votaries by\nmillions.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SLOW POISONERS.\n\n  Pescara.--The like was never read of.\n  Stephano.--In my judgment,\n               To all that shall but hear it, 't will appear\n               A most impossible fable.\n  Pescara.--Troth, I'll tell you,\n               And briefly as I can, by what degrees\n               They fell into this madness.\n\n  Duke of Milan.\n\n\nThe atrocious system of poisoning, by poisons so slow in their\noperation, as to make the victim appear, to ordinary observers, as if\ndying from a gradual decay of nature, has been practised in all ages.\nThose who are curious in the matter may refer to Beckmann on Secret\nPoisons, in his \"History of Inventions,\" in which he has collected\nseveral instances of it from the Greek and Roman writers. Early in the\nsixteenth century the crime seems to have gradually increased, till, in\nthe seventeenth, it spread over Europe like a pestilence. It was often\nexercised by pretended witches and sorcerers, and finally became a\nbranch of education amongst all who laid any claim to magical and\nsupernatural arts. In the twenty-first year of Henry VIII. an act was\npassed, rendering it high-treason: those found guilty of it, were to be\nboiled to death.\n\nOne of the first in point of date, and hardly second to any in point of\natrocity, is the murder by this means of Sir Thomas Overbury, which\ndisgraced the court of James I, in the year 1613. A slight sketch of it\nwill be a fitting introduction to the history of the poisoning mania,\nwhich was so prevalent in France and Italy fifty years later.\n\nRobert Kerr, a Scottish youth, was early taken notice of by James I,\nand loaded with honours, for no other reason that the world could ever\ndiscover than the beauty of his person. James, even in his own day, was\nsuspected of being addicted to the most abominable of all offences, and\nthe more we examine his history now, the stronger the suspicion\nbecomes. However that may be, the handsome Kerr, lending his smooth\ncheek, even in public, to the disgusting kisses of his royal master,\nrose rapidly in favour. In the year 1613, he was made Lord High\nTreasurer of Scotland, and created an English peer, by the style and\ntitle of Viscount Rochester. Still further honours were in store for\nhim.\n\nIn this rapid promotion he had not been without a friend. Sir Thomas\nOverbury, the King's secretary-who appears, from some threats in his\nown letters, to have been no better than a pander to the vices of the\nKing, and privy to his dangerous secrets--exerted all his backstair\ninfluence to forward the promotion of Kerr, by whom he was, doubtless,\nrepaid in some way or other. Overbury did not confine his friendship to\nthis, if friendship ever could exist between two such men, but acted\nthe part of an entremetteur, and assisted Rochester to carry on an\nadulterous intrigue with the Lady Frances Howard, the wife of the Earl\nof Essex. This woman was a person of violent passions, and lost to all\nsense of shame. Her husband was in her way, and to be freed from him,\nshe instituted proceedings for a divorce, on grounds which a woman of\nany modesty or delicacy of feeling would die rather than avow. Her\nscandalous suit was successful, and was no sooner decided than\npreparations, on a scale of the greatest magnificence, were made for\nher marriage with Lord Rochester.\n\nSir Thomas Overbury, who had willingly assisted his patron to intrigue\nwith the Countess of Essex, seems to have imagined that his marriage\nwith so vile a woman might retard his advancement; he accordingly\nemployed all his influence to dissuade him from it. But Rochester was\nbent on the match, and his passions were as violent as those of the\nCountess. On one occasion, when Overbury and the Viscount were walking\nin the gallery of Whitehall, Overbury was overheard to say, \"Well, my\nLord, if you do marry that base woman, you will utterly ruin your\nhonour and yourself. You shall never do it with my advice or consent;\nand, if you do, you had best look to stand fast.\" Rochester flung from\nhim in a rage, exclaiming with an oath, \"I will be even with you for\nthis.\" These words were the death-warrant of the unfortunate Overbury.\nHe had mortally wounded the pride of Rochester in insinuating that by\nhis (Overbury's) means he might be lowered in the King's favour; and he\nhad endeavoured to curb the burning passions of a heartless, dissolute,\nand reckless man.\n\nOverbury's imprudent remonstrances were reported to the Countess; and\nfrom that moment, she also vowed the most deadly vengeance against him.\nWith a fiendish hypocrisy, however, they both concealed their\nintentions, and Overbury, at the solicitation of Rochester, was\nappointed ambassador to the court of Russia. This apparent favour was\nbut the first step in a deep and deadly plot. Rochester, pretending to\nbe warmly attached to the interests of Overbury, advised him to refuse\nthe embassy, which, he said, was but a trick to get him out of the way.\nHe promised, at the same time, to stand between him and any evil\nconsequences which might result from his refusal. Overbury fell into\nthe snare, and declined the embassy. James, offended, immediately\nordered his committal to the Tower.\n\nHe was now in safe custody, and his enemies had opportunity to commence\nthe work of vengeance. The first thing Rochester did was to procure, by\nhis influence at court, the dismissal of the Lieutenant of the Tower,\nand the appointment of Sir Jervis Elwes, one of his creatures, to the\nvacant post. This man was but one instrument, and another being\nnecessary, was found in Richard Weston, a fellow who had formerly been\nshopman to a druggist. He was installed in the office of under-keeper,\nand as such had the direct custody of Overbury. So far, all was\nfavourable to the designs of the conspirators.\n\nIn the mean time, the insidious Rochester wrote the most friendly\nletters to Overbury, requesting him to bear his ill-fortune patiently,\nand promising that his imprisonment should not be of long duration; for\nthat his friends were exerting themselves to soften the King's\ndispleasure. Still pretending the extreme of sympathy for him, he\nfollowed up the letters by presents of pastry and other delicacies,\nwhich could not be procured in the Tower. These articles were all\npoisoned. Occasionally, presents of a similar description were sent to\nSir Jervis Elwes, with the understanding that these articles were not\npoisoned, when they were unaccompanied by letters: of these the\nunfortunate prisoner never tasted. A woman, named Turner, who had\nformerly kept a house of ill fame, and who had more than once lent it\nto further the guilty intercourse of Rochester and Lady Essex, was the\nagent employed to procure the poisons. They were prepared by Dr.\nForman, a pretended fortune-teller of Lambeth, assisted by an\napothecary named Franklin. Both these persons knew for what purposes\nthe poisons were needed, and employed their skill in mixing them in the\npastry and other edibles, in such small quantities as gradually to wear\nout the constitution of their victim. Mrs. Turner regularly furnished\nthe poisoned articles to the under-keeper, who placed them before\nOverbury. Not only his food, but his drink was poisoned.  Arsenic was\nmixed with the salt he ate, and cantharides with the pepper. All this\ntime, his health declined sensibly. Every day he grew weaker and\nweaker; and with a sickly appetite, craved for sweets and jellies.\nRochester continued to condole with him, and anticipated all his wants\nin this respect, sending him abundance of pastry, and occasionally\npartridges and other game, and young pigs. With the sauce for the game,\nMrs. Turner mixed a quantity of cantharides, and poisoned the pork with\nlunar-caustic. As stated on the trial, Overbury took in this manner\npoison enough to have poisoned twenty men; but his constitution was\nstrong, and he still lingered. Franklin, the apothecary, confessed that\nhe prepared with Dr. Forman seven different sorts of poisons; viz.\naquafortis, arsenic, mercury, powder of diamonds, lunar-caustic, great\nspiders, and cantharides. Overbury held out so long that Rochester\nbecame impatient, and in a letter to Lady Essex, expressed his wonder\nthat things were not sooner despatched.  Orders were immediately sent\nby Lady Essex to the keeper to finish with the victim at once. Overbury\nhad not been all this time without suspicion of treachery, although he\nappears to have had no idea of poison. He merely suspected that it was\nintended to confine him for life, and to set the King still more\nbitterly against him. In one of his letters, he threatened Rochester\nthat, unless he were speedily liberated, he would expose his villany to\nthe world. He says, \"You and I, ere it be long, will come to a public\ntrial of another nature.\" * * * \"Drive me not to extremities, lest I\nshould say something that both you and I should repent.\" * * * \"Whether\nI live or die, your shame shall never die, but ever remain to the\nworld, to make you the most odious man living.\" * * * \"I wonder much\nyou should neglect him to whom such secrets of all kinds have passed.\"\n* * * \"Be these the fruits of common secrets, common dangers?\"\n\nAll these remonstrances, and hints as to the dangerous secrets in his\nkeeping, were ill-calculated to serve him with a man so reckless as\nLord Rochester: they were more likely to cause him to be sacrificed\nthan to be saved. Rochester appears to have acted as if he thought so.\nHe doubtless employed the murderer's reasoning that \"dead men tell no\ntales,\" when, after receiving letters of this description, he\ncomplained to his paramour of the delay. Weston was spurred on to\nconsummate the atrocity; and the patience of all parties being\nexhausted, a dose of corrosive sublimate was administered to him, in\nOctober 1613, which put an end to his sufferings, after he had been for\nsix months in their hands. On the very day of his death, and before his\nbody was cold, he was wrapped up carelessly in a sheet, and buried\nwithout any funeral ceremony in a pit within the precincts of the Tower.\n\nSir Anthony Weldon, in his \"Court and Character of James I,\" gives a\nsomewhat different account of the closing scene of this tragedy. He\nsays, \"Franklin and Weston came into Overbury's chamber, and found him\nin infinite torment, with contention between the strength of nature and\nthe working of the poison; and it being very like that nature had\ngotten the better in this contention, by the thrusting out of boils,\nblotches, and blains, they, fearing it might come to light by the\njudgment of physicians, the foul play that had been offered him,\nconsented to stifle him with the bedclothes, which accordingly was\nperformed; and so ended his miserable life, with the assurance of the\nconspirators that he died by the poison; none thinking otherwise than\nthese two murderers.\"\n\nThe sudden death--the indecent haste of the funeral, and the\nnon-holding of an inquest upon the body, strengthened the suspicions\nthat were afloat. Rumour, instead of whispering, began to speak out;\nand the relatives of the deceased openly expressed their belief that\ntheir kinsman had been murdered. But Rochester was still all powerful\nat court, and no one dared to utter a word to his discredit. Shortly\nafterwards, his marriage with the Countess of Essex was celebrated with\nthe utmost splendour, the King himself being present at the ceremony.\n\nIt would seem that Overbury's knowledge of James's character was deeper\nthan Rochester had given him credit for, and that he had been a true\nprophet when he predicted that his marriage would eventually estrange\nJames from his minion. At this time, however, Rochester stood higher\nthan ever in the royal favour; but it did not last long--conscience,\nthat busy monitor, was at work. The tongue of rumour was never still;\nand Rochester, who had long been a guilty, became at last a wretched\nman. His cheeks lost their colour--his eyes grew dim; and he became\nmoody, careless, and melancholy. The King seeing him thus, took at\nlength no pleasure in his society, and began to look about for another\nfavourite. George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, was the man to his\nmind; quick-witted, handsome, and unscrupulous. The two latter\nqualities alone were sufficient to recommend him to James I. In\nproportion as the influence of Rochester declined, that of Buckingham\nincreased. A falling favourite has no friends; and Rumour wagged her\ntongue against Rochester louder and more pertinaciously than ever. A\nnew favourite, too, generally endeavours to hasten by a kick the fall\nof the old one; and Buckingham, anxious to work the complete ruin of\nhis forerunner in the King's good graces, encouraged the relatives of\nSir Thomas Overbury to prosecute their inquiries into the strange death\nof their kinsman.\n\nJames was rigorous enough in the punishment of offences when he was not\nhimself involved. He piqued himself, moreover, on his dexterity in\nunravelling mysteries. The affair of Sir Thomas Overbury found him\ncongenial occupation. He set to work by ordering the arrest of Sir\nJervis Elwes. James, at this early stage of the proceedings, does not\nseem to have been aware that Rochester was so deeply implicated. Struck\nwith horror at the atrocious system of slow poisoning, the King sent\nfor all the Judges. According to Sir Anthony Weldon, he knelt down in\nthe midst of them, and said, \"My Lords the Judges, it is lately come to\nmy hearing that you have now in examination a business of poisoning.\nLord! in what a miserable condition shall this kingdom be (the only\nfamous nation for hospitality in the world) if our tables should become\nsuch a snare, as that none could eat without danger of life, and that\nItalian custom should be introduced among us! Therefore, my Lords, I\ncharge you, as you will answer it at that great and dreadful day of\njudgment, that you examine it strictly, without layout, affection, or\npartiality. And if you shall spare any guilty of this crime, God's\ncurse light on you and your posterity! and if I spare any that are\nguilty, God's curse light on me and my posterity for ever!\"\n\nThe imprecation fell but too surely upon the devoted house of Stuart.\nThe solemn oath was broken, and God's curse did light upon him and his\nposterity!\n\nThe next person arrested after Sir Jervis Elwes, was Weston, the\nunder-keeper; then Franklin and Mrs. Turner; and, lastly, the Earl and\nCountess of Somerset, to which dignity Rochester had been advanced\nsince the death of Overbury.\n\nWeston was first brought to trial. Public curiosity was on the stretch.\nNothing else was talked of, and the court on the day of trial was\ncrowded to suffocation. The \"State Trials\" report, that Lord Chief\nJustice Coke \"laid open to the jury the baseness and cowardliness of\npoisoners, who attempt that secretly against which there is no means of\npreservation or defence for a man's life; and how rare it was to hear\nof any poisoning in England, so detestable it was to our nation.  But\nthe devil had taught divers to be cunning in it, so that they can\npoison in what distance of space they please, by consuming the nativum\ncalidum, or humidum radicale, in one month, two or three, or more, as\nthey list, which they four manner of ways do execute; viz. haustu,\ngustu, odore, and contactu.\"\n\nWhen the indictment was read over, Weston made no other reply than,\n\"Lord have mercy upon me! Lord have mercy upon me!\" On being asked how\nhe would be tried, he refused to throw himself upon a jury of his\ncountry, and declared, that he would be tried by God alone. In this he\npersisted for some time. The fear of the dreadful punishment for\ncontumacy induced him, at length, to plead \"Not guilty,\" and take his\ntrial in due course of law.\n\n[The punishment for the contumacious was expressed by the words onere,\nfrigore, et fame. By the first was meant that the culprit should be\nextended on his back on the ground, and weights placed over his body,\ngradually increased, until he expired. Sometimes the punishment was not\nextended to this length, and the victim, being allowed to recover,\nunderwent the second portion, the frigore, which consisted in his\nstanding naked in the open air, for a certain space, in the sight of\nall the people. The third, or fame, was more dreadful, the statute\nsaying, \"That he was to be preserved with the coarsest bread that could\nbe got, and water out of the next sink or puddle, to the place of\nexecution; and that day he had water he should have no bread, and that\nday he had bread, he should have no water;\" and in this torment he was\nto linger as long as nature would hold out.]\n\nAll the circumstances against him were fully proved, and he was found\nguilty and executed at Tyburn. Mrs. Turner, Franklin, and Sir Jervis\nElwes were also brought to trial, found guilty, and executed between\nthe 19th of October and the 4th of December 1615; but the grand trial\nof the Earl and Countess of Somerset did not take place till the month\nof May following.\n\nOn the trial of Sir Jervis Elwes, circumstances had transpired, showing\na guilty knowledge of the poisoning on the part of the Earl of\nNorthampton the uncle of Lady Somerset, and the chief falconer Sir\nThomas Monson. The former was dead; but Sir Thomas Monson was arrested,\nand brought to trial. It appeared, however, that he was too dangerous a\nman to be brought to the scaffold. He knew too many of the odious\nsecrets of James I, and his dying speech might contain disclosures\nwhich would compromise the King. To conceal old guilt it was necessary\nto incur new: the trial of Sir Thomas Monson was brought to an abrupt\nconclusion, and himself set at liberty!\n\nAlready James had broken his oath. He now began to fear that he had\nbeen rash in engaging so zealously to bring the poisoners to\npunishment. That Somerset would be declared guilty there was no doubt,\nand that he looked for pardon and impunity was equally evident to the\nKing. Somerset, while in the Tower, asserted confidently, that James\nwould not dare to bring him to trial. In this he was mistaken; but\nJames was in an agony. What the secret was between them will now never\nbe known with certainty; but it may be surmised. Some have imagined it\nto be the vice to which the King was addicted; while others have\nasserted, that it related to the death of Prince Henry, a virtuous\nyoung man, who had held Somerset in especial abhorrence. The Prince\ndied early, unlamented by his father, and, as public opinion whispered\nat the time, poisoned by Somerset. Probably, some crime or other lay\nheavy upon the soul of the King; and Somerset, his accomplice, could\nnot be brought to public execution with safety. Hence the dreadful\ntortures of James, when he discovered that his favourite was so deeply\nimplicated in the murder of Overbury. Every means was taken by the\nagonized King to bring the prisoner into what was called a safe frame\nof mind. He was secretly advised to plead guilty, and trust to the\nclemency of the King. The same advice was conveyed to the Countess.\nBacon was instructed by the King to draw up a paper of all the points\nof \"mercy and favour\" to Somerset which might result from the evidence;\nand Somerset was again recommended to plead guilty, and promised that\nno evil should ensue to him.\n\nThe Countess was first tried. She trembled and shed tears during the\nreading of the indictment, and, in a low voice, pleaded guilty. On\nbeing asked why sentence of death should not be passed against her, she\nreplied meekly, \"I can much aggravate, but nothing extenuate my fault.\nI desire mercy, and that the lords will intercede for me with the\nKing.\" Sentence of death was passed upon her.\n\nNext day the Earl was brought to trial. He appears to have mistrusted\nthe promises of James, and he pleaded not guilty. With a\nself-possession and confidence, which he felt, probably, from his\nknowledge of the King's character, he rigorously cross-examined the\nwitnesses, and made a stubborn defence. After a trial which lasted\neleven hours, he was found guilty, and condemned to the felon's death.\n\nWhatever may have been the secrets between the criminal and the King,\nthe latter, notwithstanding his terrific oath, was afraid to sign the\ndeath-warrant. It might, perchance, have been his own. The Earl and\nCountess were committed to the Tower, where they remained for nearly\nfive years. At the end of this period, to the surprise and scandal of\nthe community, and the disgrace of its chief magistrate, they both\nreceived the royal pardon, but were ordered to reside at a distance\nfrom the court. Having been found guilty of felony, the estates of the\nEarl had become forfeited; but James granted him out of their revenues\nan income of 4,000 pounds per annum! Shamelessness could go no further.\n\nOf the after life of these criminals nothing is known, except that the\nlove they had formerly borne each other was changed into aversion, and\nthat they lived under the same roof for months together without the\ninterchange of a word.\n\nThe exposure of their atrocities did not put a stop to the practice of\npoisoning. On the contrary, as we shall see hereafter, it engendered\nthat insane imitation which is so strange a feature of the human\ncharacter. James himself is supposed, with great probability, to have\nfallen a victim to it. In the notes to \"Harris's Life and Writings of\nJames I,\" there is a good deal of information on the subject. The guilt\nof Buckingham, although not fully established, rests upon circumstances\nof suspicion stronger than have been sufficient to lead hundreds to the\nscaffold. His motives for committing the crime are stated to have been\na desire of revenge for the coldness with which the King, in the latter\nyears of his reign, began to regard him; his fear that James intended\nto degrade him; and his hope that the great influence he possessed over\nthe mind of the heir-apparent would last through a new reign, if the\nold one were brought to a close.\n\nIn the second volume of the \"Harleian Miscellany,\" there is a tract,\nentitled the \"Forerunner of Revenge,\" written by George Eglisham,\ndoctor of medicine, and one of the physicians to King James.  Harris,\nin quoting it, says that it is full of rancour and prejudice.  It is\nevidently exaggerated; but forms, nevertheless, a link in the chain of\nevidence. Eglisham says:--\"The King being sick of an ague, the Duke\ntook this opportunity, when all the King's doctors of physic were at\ndinner, and offered to him a white powder to take, the which he a long\ntime refused; but, overcome with his flattering importunity, he took it\nin wine, and immediately became worse and worse, falling into many\nswoonings and pains, and violent fluxes of the belly, so tormented,\nthat his Majesty cried out aloud of this white powder, 'Would to God I\nhad never taken it?\" He then tells us \"Of the Countess of Buckingham\n(the Duke's mother) applying the plaister to the King's heart and\nbreast, whereupon he grew faint and short-breathed, and in agony. That\nthe physicians exclaimed, that the King was poisoned; that Buckingham\ncommanded them out of the room, and committed one of them close\nprisoner to his own chamber, and another to be removed from court; and\nthat, after his Majesty's death, his body and head swelled above\nmeasure; his hair, with the skin of his head, stuck to his pillow, and\nhis nails became loose on his fingers and toes.\" Clarendon, who, by the\nway, was a partisan of the Duke's, gives a totally different account of\nJames's death. He says, \"It was occasioned by an ague (after a short\nindisposition by the gout) which, meeting many humours in a fat\nunwieldy body of fifty-eight years old, in four or five fits carried\nhim out of the world. After whose death many scandalous and libellous\ndiscourses were raised, without the least colour or ground; as appeared\nupon the strictest and most malicious examination that could be made,\nlong after, in a time of licence, when nobody was afraid of offending\nmajesty, and when prosecuting the highest reproaches and contumelies\nagainst the royal family was held very meritorious.\" Notwithstanding\nthis confident declaration, the world will hardly be persuaded that\nthere was not some truth in the rumours that were abroad. The inquiries\nwhich were instituted were not strict, as he asserts, and all the\nunconstitutional influence of the powerful favourite was exerted to\ndefeat them. In the celebrated accusations brought against Buckingham\nby the Earl of Bristol, the poisoning of King James was placed last on\nthe list, and the pages of history bear evidence of the summary mode in\nwhich they were, for the time, got rid of.\n\nThe man from whom Buckingham is said to have procured his poisons was\none Dr. Lamb, a conjuror and empiric, who, besides dealing in poisons,\npretended to be a fortune-teller. The popular fury, which broke with\ncomparative harmlessness against his patron, was directed against this\nman, until he could not appear with safety in the streets of London.\nHis fate was melancholy. Walking one day in Cheapside, disguised, as he\nthought, from all observers, he was recognized by some idle boys, who\nbegan to hoot and pelt him with rubbish, calling out, \"The poisoner!\nthe poisoner! Down with the wizard! down with him!\" A mob very soon\ncollected, and the Doctor took to his heels and ran for his life. He\nwas pursued and seized in Wood Street, and from thence dragged by the\nhair through the mire to St. Paul's Cross; the mob beating him with\nsticks and stones, and calling out, \"Kill the wizard! kill the\npoisoner!\"\n\nCharles I, on hearing of the riot, rode from Whitehall to quell it; but\nhe arrived too late to save the victim. Every bone in his body was\nbroken, and he was quite dead. Charles was excessively indignant, and\nfined the city six hundred pounds for its inability to deliver up the\nringleaders to justice.\n\nBut it was in Italy that poisoning was most prevalent. From a very\nearly period, it seems to have been looked upon in that country as a\nperfectly justifiable means of getting rid of an enemy. The Italians of\nthe sixteenth and seventeenth centuries poisoned their opponents with\nas little compunction as an Englishman of the present day brings an\naction at law against any one who has done him an injury. The writings\nof contemporary authors inform us that, when La Spara and La Tophania\ncarried on their infernal trade, ladies put poisonbottles on their\ndressing-tables as openly, and used them with as little scruple upon\nothers, as modern dames use Eau de Cologne or lavender-water upon\nthemselves. So powerful is the influence of fashion, it can even cause\nmurder to be regarded as a venial peccadillo.\n\nIn the memoirs of the last Duke of Guise, who made a Quixotic attempt,\nin 1648, to seize upon the government of Naples, we find some curious\nparticulars relative to the popular feeling with regard to poisoning. A\nman, named Gennaro Annese, who, after the short and extraordinary\ncareer of Masaniello the fisherman, had established himself as a sort\nof captain-general of the populace, rendered himself so obnoxious to\nthe Duke of Guise that the adherents of the latter determined to murder\nhim. The captain of the guard, as the Duke himself very coolly informs\nus, was requested to undertake this office. It was suggested to him\nthat the poniard would be the most effectual instrument, but the man\nturned up his eyes with pious horror at the proposition. He was ready\nto poison Gennaro Annese whenever he might be called upon to do so; but\nto poniard him, he said, would be disgraceful, and unbecoming an\nofficer of the guards! At last poison was agreed upon, and Augustino\nMolla, an attorney in the Duke's confidence, brought the bottle\ncontaining the liquid to show it to his master. The following is the\nDuke's own account:--\n\n\"Augustino came to me at night, and told me: 'I have brought you\nsomething which will free you from Gennaro. He deserves death, and it\nis no great matter after what fashion justice is done upon him. Look at\nthis vial, full of clear and beautiful water: in four days' time, it\nwill punish all his treasons. The captain of the guard has undertaken\nto give it him; and as it has no taste at all, Gennaro will suspect\nnothing.'\"\n\nThe Duke further informs us that the dose was duly administered; but\nthat Gennaro, fortunately for himself, ate nothing for dinner that day\nbut cabbage dressed with oil, which acting as an antidote, caused him\nto vomit profusely, and saved his life. He was exceedingly ill for five\ndays, but never suspected that he had been poisoned.\n\nIn process of time, poison vending became a profitable trade.  Eleven\nyears after this period, it was carried on at Rome to such an extent\nthat the sluggish government was roused to interference.  Beckmann, in\nhis \"History of Inventions,\" and Lebret, in his \"Magazin zum Gebrauche\nder Staaten Kirche Geschichte,\" or Magazine of Materials for a History\nof a State Church, relates that, in the year 1659, it was made known to\nPope Alexander VII. that great numbers of young women had avowed in the\nconfessional that they had poisoned their husbands with slow poisons.\nThe Catholic clergy, who in general hold the secrets of the\nconfessional so sacred, were shocked and alarmed at the extraordinary\nprevalence of the crime. Although they refrained from revealing the\nnames of the penitents, they conceived themselves bound to apprise the\nhead of the church of the enormities that were practised. It was also\nthe subject of general conversation in Rome that young widows were\nunusually abundant. It was remarked, too, that if any couple lived\nunhappily together, the husband soon took ill and died. The papal\nauthorities, when once they began to inquire, soon learned that a\nsociety of young wives had been formed, and met nightly, for some\nmysterious purpose, at the house of an old woman named Hieronyma Spara.\nThis hag was a reputed witch and fortune-teller, and acted as president\nof the young viragos, several of whom, it was afterwards ascertained,\nbelonged to the first families of Rome.\n\nIn order to have positive evidence of the practices of this female\nconclave, a lady was employed by the Government to seek an interview\nwith them. She dressed herself out in the most magnificent style; and\nhaving been amply provided with money, she found but little difficulty,\nwhen she had stated her object, of procuring an audience of La Spara\nand her sisterhood. She pretended to be in extreme distress of mind on\naccount of the infidelities and ill-treatment of her husband, and\nimplored La Spara to furnish her with a few drops of the wonderful\nelixir, the efficacy of which in sending cruel husbands to \"their last\nlong sleep\" was so much vaunted by the ladies of Rome.  La Spara fell\ninto the snare, and sold her some of her \"drops,\" at a price\ncommensurate with the supposed wealth of the purchaser.\n\nThe liquor thus obtained was subjected to an analysis, and found to be,\nas was suspected, a slow poison--clear, tasteless, and limpid, like\nthat spoken of by the Duke of Guise. Upon this evidence the house was\nsurrounded by the police, and La Spara and her companions taken into\ncustody. La Spara, who is described as having been a little, ugly, old\nwoman, was put to the torture, but obstinately refused to confess her\nguilt. Another of the women, named La Gratiosa, had less firmness, and\nlaid bare all the secrets of the infernal sisterhood.  Taking a\nconfession, extorted by anguish on the rack, at its true value (nothing\nat all), there is still sufficient evidence to warrant posterity in the\nbelief of their guilt. They were found guilty, and condemned, according\nto their degrees of culpability, to various punishments. La Spara,\nGratiosa, and three young women, who had poisoned their husbands, were\nhanged together at Rome. Upwards of thirty women were whipped publicly\nthrough the streets; and several, whose high rank screened them from\nmore degrading punishment, were banished from the country, and mulcted\nin heavy fines. In a few months afterwards, nine women more were hanged\nfor poisoning; and another bevy, including many young and beautiful\ngirls, were whipped half naked through the streets of Rome.\n\nThis severity did not put a stop to the practice, and jealous women and\navaricious men, anxious to step into the inheritance of fathers,\nuncles, or brothers, resorted to poison. As it was quite free from\ntaste, colour, and smell, it was administered without exciting\nsuspicion. The skilful vendors compounded it of different degrees of\nstrength, so that the poisoners had only to say whether they wanted\ntheir victims to die in a week, a month, or six months, and they were\nsuited with corresponding doses. The vendors were chiefly women, of\nwhom the most celebrated was a hag, named Tophania, who was in this way\naccessory to the death of upwards of six hundred persons. This woman\nappears to have been a dealer in poisons from her girlhood, and resided\nfirst at Palermo and then at Naples. That entertaining traveller,\nFather Lebat, has given, in his Letters from Italy, many curious\nparticulars relating to her. When he was at Civita Vecchia, in 1719,\nthe Viceroy of Naples discovered that poison was extensively sold in\nthe latter city, and that it went by the name of aqueta, or\nlittle-water. On making further inquiry, he ascertained that Tophania\n(who was by this time near seventy years of age, and who seems to have\nbegun her evil courses very soon after the execution of La Spara) sent\nlarge quantities of it to all parts of Italy in small vials, with the\ninscription \"Manna of St. Nicholas of Barri.\"\n\nThe tomb of St. Nicholas of Barri was celebrated throughout Italy.  A\nmiraculous oil was said to ooze from it, which cured nearly all the\nmaladies that flesh is heir to, provided the recipient made use of it\nwith the due degree of faith. La Tophania artfully gave this name to\nher poison to elude the vigilance of the custom-house officers, who, in\ncommon with everybody else, had a pious respect for St. Nicholas de\nBarri and his wonderful oil.\n\nThe poison was similar to that manufactured by La Spara. Hahnemann the\nphysician, and father of the homoepathic doctrine, writing upon this\nsubject, says it was compounded of arsenical neutral salts, occasioning\nin the victim a gradual loss of appetite, faintness, gnawing pains in\nthe stomach, loss of strength, and wasting of the lungs. The Abbe\nGagliardi says that a few drops of it were generally poured into tea,\nchocolate, or soup, and its effects were slow, and almost\nimperceptible. Garelli, physician to the Emperor of Austria, in a\nletter to Hoffmann, says it was crystallized arsenic, dissolved in a\nlarge quantity of water by decoction, with the addition (for some\nunexplained purpose) of the herb cymbalaria. The Neapolitans called it\nAqua Toffnina; and it became notorious all over Europe under the name\nof Aqua Tophania.\n\nAlthough this woman carried on her infamous traffic so extensively, it\nwas extremely difficult to meet with her. She lived in continual dread\nof discovery. She constantly changed her name and residence; and\npretending to be a person of great godliness, resided in monasteries\nfor months together. Whenever she was more than usually apprehensive of\ndetection, she sought ecclesiastical protection. She was soon apprised\nof the search made for her by the Viceroy of Naples, and, according to\nher practice, took refuge in a monastery. Either the search after her\nwas not very rigid, or her measures were exceedingly well taken; for\nshe contrived to elude the vigilance of the authorities for several\nyears. What is still more extraordinary, as showing the ramifications\nof her system, her trade was still carried on to as great an extent as\nbefore. Lebat informs us that she had so great a sympathy for poor\nwives who hated their husbands and wanted to get rid of them, but could\nnot afford to buy her wonderful aqua, that she made them presents of it.\n\nShe was not allowed, however, to play at this game for ever; she was at\nlength discovered in a nunnery, and her retreat cut off. The Viceroy\nmade several representations to the superior to deliver her up, but\nwithout effect. The abbess, supported by the archbishop of the diocese,\nconstantly refused. The public curiosity was in consequence so much\nexcited at the additional importance thus thrust upon the criminal,\nthat thousands of persons visited the nunnery in order to catch a\nglimpse of her.\n\nThe patience of the Viceroy appears to have been exhausted by these\ndelays. Being a man of sense, and not a very zealous Catholic, he\ndetermined that even the Church should not shield a criminal so\natrocious. Setting the privileges of the nunnery at defiance, he sent a\ntroop of soldiers, who broke over the walls and carried her away vi et\narmis. The Archbishop, Cardinal Pignatelli, was highly indignant, and\nthreatened to excommunicate and lay the whole city under interdict. All\nthe inferior clergy, animated by the esprit du corps, took up the\nquestion, and so worked upon the superstitious and bigoted people, that\nthey were ready to rise in a mass to storm the palace of the Viceroy\nand rescue the prisoner.\n\nThese were serious difficulties; but the Viceroy was not a man to be\ndaunted. Indeed, he seems to have acted throughout with a rare union of\nastuteness, coolness, and energy. To avoid the evil consequences of the\nthreatened excommunication, he placed a guard round the palace of the\nArchbishop, judging that the latter would not be so foolish as to\nlaunch out an anathema which would cause the city to be starved, and\nhimself in it. The marketpeople would not have dared to come to the\ncity with provisions, so long as it remained under the ban. There would\nhave been too much inconvenience to himself and his ghostly brethren in\nsuch a measure; and, as the Viceroy anticipated, the good Cardinal\nreserved his thunders for some other occasion.\n\nStill there was the populace. To quiet their clamour and avert the\nimpending insurrection, the agents of the government adroitly mingled\nwith the people, and spread abroad a report that Tophania had poisoned\nall the wells and fountains of the city. This was enough. The popular\nfeeling turned against her immediately. Those who, but a moment before,\nhad looked upon her as a saint, now reviled her as a devil, and were as\neager for her punishment as they had before been for her escape.\nTophania was then put to the torture. She confessed the long catalogue\nof her crimes, and named all the persons who had employed her. She was\nshortly afterwards strangled, and her corpse thrown over the wall into\nthe garden of the convent, from whence she had been taken. This appears\nto have been done to conciliate the clergy, by allowing them, at least,\nthe burial of one who had taken refuge within their precincts.\n\nAfter her death the mania for poisoning seems to have abated; but we\nhave yet to see what hold it took upon the French people at a somewhat\nearlier period. So rooted had it become in France between the years\n1670 and 1680, that Madame de Sevigne, in one of her letters, expresses\nher fear that Frenchman and poisoner would become synonymous terms.\n\nAs in Italy, the first notice the government received of the prevalence\nof this crime was given by the clergy, to whom females of high rank,\nand some among the middle and lower classes, had avowed in the\nconfessional that they had poisoned their husbands. In consequence of\nthese disclosures, two Italians, named Exili and Glaser, were arrested,\nand thrown into the Bastille, on the charge of compounding and selling\nthe drugs used for these murders. Glaser died in prison, but Exili\nremained without trial for several months; and there, shortly\nafterwards, he made the acquaintance of another prisoner, named Sainte\nCroix, by whose example the crime was still further disseminated among\nthe French people.\n\nThe most notorious of the poisoners that derived their pernicious\nknowledge from this man was Madame de Brinvilliers, a young woman\nconnected both by birth and marriage with some of the noblest families\nof France. She seems, from her very earliest years, to have been\nheartless and depraved; and, if we may believe her own confession, was\nsteeped in wickedness ere she had well entered her teens. She was,\nhowever, beautiful and accomplished; and, in the eye of the world,\nseemed exemplary and kind. Guyot de Pitaval, in the \"Causes Celebres,\"\nand Madame de Sevigne, in her Letters, represent her as mild and\nagreeable in her manners, and offering no traces on her countenance of\nthe evil soul within. She was married in 1651 to the Marquis de\nBrinvilliers, with whom she lived unhappily for some years. He was a\nloose dissipated character, and was the means of introducing Sainte\nCroix to his wife, a man who cast a blight upon her life, and dragged\nher on from crime to crime till her offences became so great that the\nmind shudders to dwell upon them. For this man she conceived a guilty\npassion, to gratify which she plunged at once into the gulf of sin.\nShe was drawn to its most loathsome depths ere retribution overtook her.\n\nShe had as yet shown a fair outside to the world, and found but little\ndifficulty in effecting a legal separation from her husband, who had\nnot the art to conceal his vices. The proceeding gave great offence to\nher family. She appears, after this, to have thrown off the mask\ncompletely, and carried on her intrigues so openly with her lover,\nSainte Croix, that her father, M. D'Aubray, scandalised at her conduct,\nprocured a lettre de cachet, and had him imprisoned in the Bastille for\na twelvemonth.\n\nSainte Croix, who had been in Italy, was a dabbler in poisons. He knew\nsomething of the secrets of the detestable La Spara, and improved\nhimself in them from the instructions of Exili, with whom he speedily\ncontracted a sort of friendship. By him he was shown how to prepare,\nnot only the liquid poisons employed in Italy, but that known as\nsuccession powder, which afterwards became so celebrated in France.\nLike his mistress, he appeared amiable, witty, and intelligent, and\nshowed no signs to the world of the two fierce passions, revenge and\navarice, which were gnawing at his heart. Both these passions were to\nbe sated on the unfortunate family of D'Aubray; his revenge, because\nthey had imprisoned him; and his avarice, because they were rich.\nReckless and extravagant, he was always in want of money, and he had no\none to supply him but Madame de Brinvilliers, whose own portion was far\nfrom sufficient to satisfy his need. Groaning to think that any\nimpediment should stand between him and wealth, he conceived the horrid\nidea of poisoning M. D'Aubray her father, and her two brothers, that\nshe might inherit the property. Three murders were nothing to such a\nvillain. He communicated his plan to Madame de Brinvilliers; and she,\nwithout the slightest scruple, agreed to aid him: he undertook to\ncompound the poisons, and she to administer them. The zeal and alacrity\nwith which she set to work seem hardly credible.  Sainte Croix found\nher an apt scholar; and she soon became as expert as himself in the\nmanufacture of poisons. To try the strength of the first doses, she\nused to administer them to dogs, rabbits, and pigeons. Afterwards,\nwishing to be more certain of their effects, she went round to the\nhospitals, and administered them to the sick poor in the soups which\nshe brought in apparent charity. [This is denied by Voltaire in his\n\"Age of Louis XIV;\" but he does not state for what reason. His words\nare, \"Il est faux qu'elle eut essaye ses poisons dans les hopitaux,\ncomme le disait le peuple et comme il est ecrit dans les 'Causes\nCelebres,' ouvrage d'un avocat sans cause et fait pour le peuple.\"]\nNone of the poisons were intended to kill at the first dose; so that\nshe could try them once upon an individual without fear of murder. She\ntried the same atrocious experiment upon the guests at her father's\ntable, by poisoning a pigeon-pie! To be more certain still, she next\npoisoned herself! When convinced by this desperate essay of the potency\nof the draught, she procured an antidote from Sainte Croix, and all\ndoubts being removed, commenced operations upon her grey-headed father.\nShe administered the first dose with her own hands, in his chocolate.\nThe poison worked well. The old man was taken ill, and his daughter,\napparently full of tenderness and anxiety, watched by his bedside. The\nnext day she gave him some broth, which she recommended as highly\nnourishing. This also was poisoned. In this manner she gradually wore\nout his frame, and in less than ten days he was a corpse! His death\nseemed so much the result of disease, that no suspicions were excited.\n\nWhen the two brothers arrived from the provinces to render the last sad\nduties to their sire, they found their sister as grieved, to all\noutward appearance, as even filial affection could desire: but the\nyoung men only came to perish. They stood between Sainte Croix and the\nalready half-clutched gold, and their doom was sealed. A man, named La\nChaussee, was hired by Sainte Croix to aid in administering the\npoisons; and, in less than six weeks' time, they had both gone to their\nlong home.\n\nSuspicion was now excited; but so cautiously had all been done, that it\nfound no one upon whom to attach itself. The Marquise had a sister, and\nshe was entitled, by the death of her relatives, to half the property.\nLess than the whole would not satisfy Sainte Croix, and he determined\nthat she should die the same death as her father and brothers. She was\ntoo distrustful, however; and, by quitting Paris, she escaped the\ndestruction that was lurking for her.\n\nThe Marquise had undertaken these murders to please her lover. She was\nnow anxious to perpetrate another on her own account. She wished to\nmarry Sainte Croix; but, though separated from her husband, she was not\ndivorced. She thought it would be easier to poison him than to apply to\nthe tribunals for a divorce, which might, perhaps, be refused. But\nSalute Croix had no longer any love for his guilty instrument. Bad men\ndo not admire others who are as bad as themselves.  Though a villain\nhimself, he had no desire to marry one, and was not at all anxious for\nthe death of the Marquis. He seemed, however, to enter into the plot,\nand supplied her with poison for her husband: but he took care to\nprovide a remedy. La Brinvilliers poisoned him one day, and Sainte\nCroix gave him an antidote the next. In this manner he was buffetted\nabout between them for some time, and finally escaped with a ruined\nconstitution and a broken heart.\n\nBut the day of retribution was at hand, and a terrible mischance\nbrought the murders to light. The nature of the poisons compounded by\nSalute Croix was so deadly, that, when working in his laboratory, he\nwas obliged to wear a mask, to preserve himself from suffocation. One\nday, the mask slipped off, and the miserable wretch perished in his\ncrimes. His corpse was found, on the following morning, in the obscure\nlodging where he had fitted up his laboratory. As he appeared to be\nwithout friends or relatives, the police took possession of his\neffects. Among other things was found a small box, to which was affixed\nthe following singular document:--\n\n\"I humbly beg, that those into whose hands this box may fall, will do\nme the favour to deliver it into the hands only of the Marchioness de\nBrinvilliers, who resides in the Rue Neuve St. Paul, as everything it\ncontains concerns her, and belongs to her alone; and as, besides, there\nis nothing in it that can be of use to any person but her. In case she\nshall be dead before me, it is my wish that it be burned, with\neverything it contains, without opening or altering anything. In order\nthat no one may plead ignorance, I swear by the God that I adore, and\nby all that is held most sacred, that I assert nothing but the truth:\nand if my intentions, just and reasonable as they are, be thwarted in\nthis point by any persons, I charge their consciences with it, both in\nthis world and that which is to come, in order that I may unload mine.\nI protest that this is my last will. Done at Paris, the 25th of May,\n1672.\n\n\"(Signed) Sainte Croix.\"\n\nThis earnest solicitation, instead of insuring respect as was intended,\nexcited curiosity. The box was opened, and found to contain some\npapers, and several vials and powders. The latter were handed to a\nchemist for analysis, and the documents were retained by the police,\nand opened. Among them was found a promissory note of the Marchioness\nde Brinvilliers, for thirty thousand francs, to the order of Sainte\nCroix. The other papers were of greater importance, as they implicated\nboth her and her servant, La Chaussee, in the recent murders. As soon\nas she was informed of the death of Sainte Croix, she made an attempt\nto gain possession of his papers and the box; but, being refused, she\nsaw that there was no time to be lost, and immediately quitted. Next\nmorning the police were on her trail; but she succeeded in escaping to\nEngland. La Chaussee was not so fortunate. Altogether ignorant of the\nfatal mischance which had brought his villanies to light, he did not\ndream of danger. He was arrested and brought to trial: being put to the\ntorture, he confessed that he had administered poison to the Messieurs\nd'Aubray, and that he had received a hundred pistoles, and the promise\nof an annuity for life, from Sainte Croix and Madame de Brinvilliers,\nfor the job. He was condemned to be broken alive on the wheel, and the\nMarchioness was, by default, sentenced to be beheaded.  He was executed\naccordingly, in March 1673, on the Place de Greve, in Paris.\n\nLa Brinvilliers appears to have resided for nearly three years in\nEngland. Early in 1676, thinking that the rigour of pursuit was over,\nand that she might venture to return to the Continent, she proceeded\nsecretly to Liege. Notwithstanding her care, the French authorities\nwere soon apprised of her return; and arrangements were promptly made\nwith the municipality of that city, to permit the agents of the French\npolice to arrest her within the limits of their jurisdiction.\nDesgrais, an officer of the marechaussee, accordingly left Paris for\nthat purpose. On his arrival in Liege, he found that she had sought\nshelter within the walls of a convent. Here the arm of the law, long as\nit is said to be, could not reach her: but Desgrais was not a man to be\nbaffled, and he resorted to stratagem to accomplish what force could\nnot. Having disguised himself as a priest, he sought admission to the\nconvent, and obtained an interview with La Brinvilliers. He said, that\nbeing a Frenchman, and passing through Liege, he could not leave that\ncity without paying a visit to a lady whose beauty and misfortunes were\nso celebrated. Her vanity was flattered by the compliment. Desgrais\nsaw, to use a vulgar but forcible expression, \"that he had got on the\nblind side of her;\" and he adroitly continued to pour out the language\nof love and admiration, till the deluded Marchioness was thrown\ncompletely off her guard. She agreed, without much solicitation, to\nmeet him outside the walls of the convent, where their amorous intrigue\nmight be carried on more conveniently than within. Faithful to her\nappointment with her supposed new lover, she came, and found herself,\nnot in the embrace of a gallant, but in the custody of a policeman.\n\nHer trial was not long delayed. The proofs against her were abundant.\nThe dying declaration of La Chaussee would have been alone enough to\nconvict her; but besides that, there were the mysterious document\nattached to the box of St. Croix; her flight from France; and, stronger\nand more damning proof than all, a paper, in her own handwriting, found\namong the effects of St. Croix, in which she detailed to him the\nmisdeeds of her life, and spoke of the murder of her father and\nbrothers, in terms that left no doubt of her guilt.  During the trial,\nall Paris was in commotion. La Brinvilliers was the only subject of\nconversation. All the details of her crimes were published, and\ngreedily devoured; and the idea of secret poisoning was first put into\nthe heads of hundreds, who afterwards became guilty of it.\n\nOn the 16th of July 1676, the Superior Criminal Court of Paris\npronounced a verdict of guilty against her, for the murder of her\nfather and brothers, and the attempt upon the life of her sister. She\nwas condemned to be drawn on a hurdle, with her feet bare, a rope about\nher neck, and a burning torch in her hand, to the great entrance of the\ncathedral of Notre Dame; where she was to make the amende honorable, in\nsight of all the people; to be taken from thence to the Place de Greve,\nand there to be beheaded. Her body was afterwards to be burned, and her\nashes scattered to the winds.\n\nAfter her sentence, she made a full confession of her guilt. She seems\nto have looked upon death without fear; but it was recklessness, not\ncourage, that supported her. Madame de Sevigne says, that when on the\nhurdle, on her way to the scaffold, she entreated her confessor to\nexert his influence with the executioner to place himself next to her,\nthat his body might hide from her view \"that scoundrel, Desgrais, who\nhad entrapped her.\" She also asked the ladies, who had been drawn to\ntheir windows to witness the procession, what they were looking at?\nadding, \"a pretty sight you have come to see, truly!\" She laughed when\non the scaffold, dying as she had lived, impenitent and heartless. On\nthe morrow, the populace came in crowds to collect her ashes, to\npreserve them as relics. She was regarded as a martyred saint, and her\nashes were supposed to be endowed, by Divine grace, with the power of\ncuring all diseases. Popular folly has often canonised persons whose\npretensions to sanctity were extremely equivocal; but the disgusting\nfolly of the multitude, in this instance, has never been surpassed.\n\nBefore her death, proceedings were instituted against M. de Penautier,\ntreasurer of the province of Languedoc, and Receiver-general for the\nclergy, who was accused by a lady, named St.  Laurent, of having\npoisoned her husband, the late Receiver-general, in order to obtain his\nappointment. The circumstances of this case were never divulged, and\nthe greatest influence was exerted to prevent it from going to trial.\nHe was known to have been intimate with Sainte Croix and Madame de\nBrinvilliers, and was thought to have procured his poisons from them.\nThe latter, however, refused to say anything which might implicate him.\nThe inquiry was eventually stifled, after Penautier had been several\nmonths in the Bastille.\n\nThe Cardinal de Bonzy was accused by the gossips of the day of being an\naccomplice of Penautier. The Cardinal's estates were burthened with the\npayment of several heavy annuities; but, about the time that poisoning\nbecame so fashionable, all the annuitants died off, one after the\nother. The Cardinal, in talking of these annuitants, afterwards used to\nsay, \"Thanks to my star, I have outlived them all!\" A wit, seeing him\nand Penautier riding in the same carriage, cried out, in allusion to\nthis expression, \"There go the Cardinal de Bonzy and his star!\"\n\nIt was now that the mania for poisoning began to take hold of the\npopular mind. From this time until the year 1682, the prisons of France\nteemed with persons accused of this crime; and it is very singular,\nthat other offences decreased in a similar proportion. We have already\nseen the extent to which it was carried in Italy. It was, if possible,\nsurpassed in France. The diabolical ease with which these murders could\nbe effected, by means of these scentless and tasteless poisons, enticed\nthe evil-minded. Jealousy, revenge, avarice, even petty spite, alike\nresorted to them. Those who would have been deterred, by fear of\ndetection, from using the pistol or the dagger, or even strong doses of\npoison, which kill at once, employed slow poisons without dread. The\ncorrupt Government of the day, although it could wink at the atrocities\nof a wealthy and influential courtier, like Penautier, was scandalised\nto see the crime spreading among the people. Disgrace was, in fact,\nentailed, in the eyes of Europe, upon the name of Frenchman. Louis XIV,\nto put a stop to the evil, instituted what was called the Chambre\nArdente, or Burning Chamber, with extensive powers, for the trial and\npunishment of the prisoners.\n\nTwo women, especially, made themselves notorious at this time, and were\ninstrumental to the deaths of hundreds of individuals. They both\nresided in Paris, and were named Lavoisin and Lavigoreux. Like Spars\nand Tophania, of whom they were imitators, they chiefly sold their\npoisons to women who wanted to get rid of their husbands; and, in some\nfew instances, to husbands who wanted to get rid of their wives. Their\nostensible occupation was that of midwives. They also pretended to be\nfortune-tellers, and were visited by persons of every class of society.\nThe rich and poor thronged alike to their mansardes, to learn the\nsecrets of the future. Their prophecies were principally of death.\nThey foretold to women the approaching dissolution of husbands, and to\nneedy heirs, the end of rich relatives, who had made them, as Byron\nexpresses it, \"wait too, too long already.\" They generally took care to\nbe instrumental in fulfilling their own predictions. They used to tell\ntheir wretched employers, that some sign of the approaching death would\ntake place in the house, such as the breaking of glass or china; and\nthey paid servants considerable fees to cause a breakage, as if by\naccident, exactly at the appointed time. Their occupation as midwives\nmade them acquainted with the secrets of many families, which they\nafterwards turned to dreadful account.\n\nIt is not known how long they had carried on this awful trade before\nthey were discovered. Detection finally overtook them at the close of\nthe year 1679. They were both tried, found guilty, and burned alive on\nthe Place de Greve, on the 22nd of February, 1680, after their hands\nhad been bored through with a red-hot iron, and then cut off. Their\nnumerous accomplices in Paris and in the provinces were also discovered\nand brought to trial. According to some authors, thirty, and to others,\nfifty of them, chiefly women, were hanged in the principal cities.\n\nLavoisin kept a list of the visiters who came to her house to purchase\npoisons. This paper was seized by the police on her arrest, and\nexamined by the tribunals. Among the names were found those of the\nMarshal de Luxembourg, the Countess de Soissons, and the Duchess de\nBouillon. The Marshal seems only to have been guilty of a piece of\ndiscreditable folly in visiting a woman of this description, but the\npopular voice at the time imputed to him something more than folly.\nThe author of the \"Memoirs of the Affairs of Europe since the Peace of\nUtrecht,\" says, \"The miserable gang who dealt in poison and prophecy\nalleged that he had sold himself to the devil, and that a young girl of\nthe name of Dupin had been poisoned by his means. Among other stories,\nthey said he had made a contract with the devil, in order to marry his\nson to the daughter of the Marquis of Louvois. To this atrocious and\nabsurd accusation the Marshal, who had surrendered himself at the\nBastille on the first accusation against him, replied with the mingled\nsentiment of pride and innocence, 'When Mathieu de Montmorenci, my\nancestor, married the widow of Louis le Gros, he did not have recourse\nto the devil, but to the States-General, in order to obtain for the\nminor king the support of the house of Montmorenci.' This brave man was\nimprisoned in a cell six feet and a half long, and his trial, which was\ninterrupted for several weeks, lasted altogether fourteen months. No\njudgment was pronounced upon him.\"\n\nThe Countess of Soissons fled to Brussels, rather than undergo the risk\nof a trial; and was never able to clear herself from the stigma that\nattached to her, of having made an attempt to poison the Queen of Spain\nby doses of succession powder. The Duchess of Bouillon was arrested,\nand tried by the Chambre Ardente. It would appear, however, that she\nhad nothing to do with the slow poisons, but had merely endeavoured to\npry into the secrets of futurity, and gratify her curiosity with a\nsight of the devil. One of the presidents of the Chambre, La Reynie, an\nugly little old man, very seriously asked her whether she had really\nseen the devil; to which the lady replied, looking him full in the\nface, \"Oh yes! I see him now. He is in the form of a little ugly old\nman, exceedingly illnatured, and is dressed in the robes of a\ncounsellor of State.\" M. la Reynie prudently refrained from asking any\nmore questions of a lady with so sharp and ready a tongue. The Duchess\nwas imprisoned for several months in the Bastile; and nothing being\nproved against her, she was released at the intercession of her\npowerful friends. The severe punishment of criminals of this note might\nhave helped to abate the fever of imitation among the vulgar;--their\ncomparative impunity had a contrary tendency. The escape of Penautier,\nand the wealthy Cardinal de Bonzy his employer, had the most pernicious\neffect. For two years longer the crime continued to rage, and was not\nfinally suppressed till the stake had blazed, or the noose dangled, for\nupwards of a hundred individuals.\n\n\n\n\nHAUNTED HOUSES.\n\n  Here's a knocking indeed! * * * * knock! knock! knock\n  * * * * * * Who's there, i' the name o' Beelzebub?\n  * * * Who's there, i' the devil's name? Knock! knock!\n  knock!--Never at quiet?\n\n  Macbeth.\n\n\nWho has not either seen or heard of some house, shut up and\nuninhabitable, fallen into decay, and looking dusty and dreary, from\nwhich, at midnight, strange sounds have been heard to issue--aerial\nknockings--the rattling of chains, and the groaning of perturbed\nspirits?--a house that people have thought it unsafe to pass after\ndark, and which has remained for years without a tenant, and which no\ntenant would occupy, even were he paid to do so? There are hundreds of\nsuch houses in England at the present day; hundreds in France, Germany,\nand almost every country of Europe, which are marked with the mark of\nfear--places for the timid to avoid, and the pious to bless themselves\nat, and ask protection from, as they pass--the abodes of ghosts and\nevil spirits. There are many such houses in London; and if any vain\nboaster of the march of intellect would but take the trouble to find\nthem out and count them, he would be convinced that intellect must yet\nmake some enormous strides before such old superstitions can be\neradicated.\n\nThe idea that such houses exist is a remnant of the witch creed, which\nmerits separate notice from its comparative harmlessness, and from its\nbeing not so much a madness as a folly of the people. Unlike other\nnotions that sprang from the belief in witchcraft, and which we have\nalready dwelt upon at sufficient length, it has sent no wretches to the\nstake or the gibbet, and but a few to the pillory only.\n\nMany houses have been condemned as haunted, and avoided by the weak and\ncredulous, from circumstances the most trifling in themselves, and\nwhich only wanted a vigorous mind to clear up, at once, and dissipate\nall alarm. A house in Aix-la-Chapelle, a large desolate-looking\nbuilding, remained uninhabited for five years, on account of the\nmysterious knockings that there were heard within it at all hours of\nthe day and night. Nobody could account for the noises; and the fear\nbecame at last so excessive, that the persons who inhabited the houses\non either side relinquished their tenancy, and went to reside in other\nquarters of the town, where there was less chance of interruption from\nevil spirits. From being so long without an inhabitant the house at\nlast grew so ruinous, so dingy, and so miserable in its outward\nappearance, and so like the place that ghosts might be supposed to\nhaunt, that few persons cared to go past it after sunset. The knocking\nthat was heard in one of the upper rooms was not very loud, but it was\nvery regular. The gossips of the neighbourhood asserted that they often\nheard groans from the cellars, and saw lights moved about from one\nwindow to another immediately after the midnight bell had tolled.\nSpectres in white habiliments were reported to have gibed and chattered\nfrom the windows; but all these stories could bear no investigation.\nThe knocking, however, was a fact which no one could dispute, and\nseveral ineffectual attempts were made by the proprietor to discover\nthe cause. The rooms were sprinkled with holy water--the evil spirits\nwere commanded in due form, by a priest, to depart thence to the Red\nSea; but the knockings still continued, in spite of all that could be\ndone in that way. Accident at last discovered the cause, and restored\ntranquillity to the neighbourhood. The proprietor, who suffered not\nonly in his mind but in his pocket, had sold the building at a\nruinously small price, to get rid of all future annoyance. The new\nproprietor was standing in a room on the first floor when he heard the\ndoor driven to at the bottom with a considerable noise, and then fly\nopen immediately, about two inches and no more. He stood still a minute\nand watched, and the same thing occurred a second and a third time. He\nexamined the door attentively, and all the mystery was unravelled. The\nlatch of the door was broken so that it could not be fastened, and it\nswung chiefly upon the bottom hinge. Immediately opposite was a window,\nin which one pane of glass was broken; and when the wind was in a\ncertain quarter, the draught of air was so strong that it blew the door\nto with some violence. There being no latch, it swung open again; and\nwhen there was a fresh gust, was again blown to.  The new proprietor\nlost no time in sending for a glazier, and the mysterious noises ceased\nfor ever. The house was replastered and repainted, and once more\nregained its lost good name. It was not before two or three years,\nhowever, that it was thoroughly established in popular favour; and many\npersons, even then, would always avoid passing it, if they could reach\ntheir destination by any other street.\n\nA similar story is narrated by Sir Walter Scott, in his Letters on\nDemonology and Witchcraft, the hero of which was a gentleman of birth\nand distinction, well known in the political world. Shortly after he\nsucceeded to his title and estates, there was a rumour among the\nservants concerning a strange noise that used to be heard at night in\nthe family mansion, and the cause of which no one could ascertain. The\ngentleman resolved to discover it himself, and to watch for that\npurpose with a domestic who had grown old in the family, and who, like\nthe rest, had whispered strange things about the knocking having begun\nimmediately upon the death of his old master. These two watched until\nthe noise was heard, and at last traced it to a small store-room, used\nas a place for keeping provisions of various kinds for the family, and\nof which the old butler had the key. They entered this place, and\nremained for some time, without hearing the noises which they had\ntraced thither. At length the sound was heard, but much lower than it\nseemed to be while they were further off, and their imaginations were\nmore excited. They then discovered the cause without difficulty. A rat,\ncaught in an old-fashioned trap, had occasioned the noise by its\nefforts to escape, in which it was able to raise the trap-door of its\nprison to a certain height, but was then obliged to drop it. The noise\nof the fall resounding through the house had occasioned the mysterious\nrumours, which, but for the investigation of the proprietor, would, in\nall probability, have acquired so bad a name for the dwelling that no\nservants would have inhabited it. The circumstance was told to Sir\nWalter Scott by the gentleman to whom it happened.\n\nBut, in general, houses that have acquired this character, have been\nmore indebted for it, to the roguery of living men, than to accidents\nlike these. Six monks played off a clever trick of the kind upon that\nworthy King, Louis, whose piety has procured him, in the annals of his\nown country, the designation of \"the Saint.\" Having heard his confessor\nspeak in terms of warm eulogy of the goodness and learning of the monks\nof the order of Saint Bruno, he expressed his wish to establish a\ncommunity of them near Paris. Bernard de la Tour, the superior, sent\nsix of the brethren, and the King gave them a handsome house to live\nin, in the village of Chantilly. It so happened that, from their\nwindows, they had a very fine view of the ancient palace of Vauvert,\nwhich had been built for a royal residence by King Robert, but deserted\nfor many years. The worthy monks thought the palace would just suit\nthem, but their modesty was so excessive that they were ashamed to ask\nthe King for a grant of it in due form. This difficulty was not to be\novercome, and the monks set their ingenuity to work to discover another\nplan. The palace of Vauvert had never laboured under any imputation\nupon its character until they became its neighbours; but, somehow or\nother, it almost immediately afterwards began to acquire a bad name.\nFrightful shrieks were heard to proceed from it at night--blue, red,\nand green lights were suddenly observed to glimmer from the windows,\nand as suddenly to disappear: the clanking of chains was heard, and the\nhowling as of persons in great pain. These disturbances continued for\nseveral months, to the great terror of all the country round, and even\nof the pious King Louis, to whom, at Paris, all the rumours were\nregularly carried, with whole heaps of additions, that accumulated on\nthe way. At last a great spectre, clothed all in pea-green, with a long\nwhite beard and a serpent's tail, took his station regularly at\nmidnight in the principal window of the palace, and howled fearfully\nand shook his fists at the passengers. The six monks of Chantilly, to\nwhom all these things were duly narrated, were exceedingly wroth that\nthe devil should play such antics right opposite their dwelling, and\nhinted to the commissioners, sent down by Saint Louis to investigate\nthe matter, that, if they were allowed to inhabit the palace, they\nwould very soon make a clearance of the evil spirits. The King was\nquite charmed with their piety, and expressed to them how grateful he\nfelt for their disinterestedness. A deed was forthwith drawn up--the\nroyal sign-manual was affixed to it, and the palace of Vauvert became\nthe property of the monks of Saint Bruno. The deed is dated in 1259.\n[Garinet. Histoire de la Magie en France, page 75.] The disturbances\nceased immediately--the lights disappeared, and the green ghost (so\nsaid the monks) was laid at rest for ever under the waves of the Red\nSea.\n\nIn the year 1580, one Gilles Blacre had taken the lease of a house in\nthe suburbs of Tours, but repenting him of his bargain with the\nlandlord, Peter Piquet, he endeavoured to prevail upon him to cancel\nthe agreement. Peter, however, was satisfied with his tenant and his\nterms, and would listen to no compromise. Very shortly afterwards, the\nrumour was spread all over Tours that the house of Gilles Blacre was\nhaunted. Gilles himself asserted that he verily believed his house to\nbe the general rendezvous of all the witches and evil spirits of\nFrance. The noise they made was awful, and quite prevented him from\nsleeping. They knocked against the wall--howled in the chimneys--broke\nhis window-glass--scattered his pots and pans all over his kitchen, and\nset his chairs and tables a dancing the whole night through. Crowds of\npersons assembled around the house to hear the mysterious noises; and\nthe bricks were observed to detach themselves from the wall and fall\ninto the streets upon the heads of those who had not said their\npaternoster before they came out in the morning.  These things having\ncontinued for some time, Gilles Blacre made his complaint to the Civil\nCourt of Tours, and Peter Piquet was summoned to show cause why the\nlease should not be annulled. Poor Peter could make no defence, and the\ncourt unanimously agreed that no lease could hold good under such\ncircumstances, and annulled it accordingly, condemning the unlucky\nowner to all the expenses of the suit. Peter appealed to the Parliament\nof Paris; and, after a long examination, the Parliament confirmed the\nlease. \"Not,\" said the judge, \"because it has not been fully and\nsatisfactorily proved that the house is troubled by evil spirits, but\nthat there was an informality in the proceedings before the Civil Court\nof Tours, that rendered its decision null and of no effect.\"\n\nA similar cause was tried before the Parliament of Bordeaux, in the\nyear 1595, relative to a house in that city which was sorely troubled\nby evil spirits. The Parliament appointed certain ecclesiastics to\nexamine and report to them, and on their report in the affirmative that\nthe house was haunted, the lease was annulled, and the tenant absolved\nfrom all payment of rent and taxes. [Garinet.  Histoire de la Magie en\nFrance, page 156.]\n\nOne of the best stories of a haunted house is that of the royal palace\nof Woodstock, in the year 1649, when the commissioners sent from London\nby the Long Parliament to take possession of it, and efface all the\nemblems of royalty about it, were fairly driven out by their fear of\nthe devil and the annoyances they suffered from a roguish cavalier, who\nplayed the imp to admiration. The commissioners, dreading at that time\nno devil, arrived at Woodstock on the 13th of October, 1649. They took\nup their lodgings in the late King's apartments-turned the beautiful\nbedrooms and withdrawing-rooms into kitchens and sculleries--the\ncouncil-hall into a brew-house, and made the dining-room a place to\nkeep firewood in. They pulled down all the insignia of royal state, and\ntreated with the utmost indignity everything that recalled to their\nmemory the name or the majesty of Charles Stuart. One Giles Sharp\naccompanied them in the capacity of clerk, and seconded their efforts,\napparently with the greatest zeal.  He aided them to uproot a noble old\ntree, merely because it was called the King's Oak, and tossed the\nfragments into the dining-room to make cheerful fires for the\ncommissioners. During the first two days, they heard some strange\nnoises about the house, but they paid no great attention to them. On\nthe third, however, they began to suspect they had got into bad\ncompany; for they heard, as they thought, a supernatural dog under\ntheir bed, which gnawed their bedclothes. On the next day, the chairs\nand tables began to dance, apparently of their own accord. On the fifth\nday, something came into the bedchamber and walked up and down, and\nfetching the warming-pan out of the withdrawing-room, made so much\nnoise with it that they thought five church-bells were ringing in their\nears. On the sixth day, the plates and dishes were thrown up and down\nthe dining-room. On the seventh, they penetrated into the bedroom in\ncompany with several logs of wood, and usurped the soft pillows\nintended for the commissioners. On the eighth and ninth nights, there\nwas a cessation of hostilities; but on the tenth, the bricks in the\nchimneys became locomotive, and rattled and danced about the floors,\nand round the heads of the commissioners, all the night long. On the\neleventh, the demon ran away with their breeches, and on the twelfth\nfilled their beds so full of pewter-platters that they could not get\ninto them. On the thirteenth night, the glass became unaccountably\nseized with a fit of cracking, and fell into shivers in all parts of\nthe house. On the fourteenth, there was a noise as if forty pieces of\nartillery had been fired off, and a shower of pebble-stones, which so\nalarmed the commissioners that, \"struck with great horror, they cried\nout to one another for help.\"\n\nThey first of all tried the efficacy of prayers to drive away the evil\nspirits; but these proving unavailing, they began seriously to reflect\nwhether it would not be much better to leave the place altogether to\nthe devils that inhabited it. They ultimately resolved, however, to try\nit a little longer; and having craved forgiveness of all their sins,\nbetook themselves to bed. That night they slept in tolerable comfort,\nbut it was merely a trick of their tormentor to lull them into false\nsecurity. When, on the succeeding night, they heard no noises, they\nbegan to flatter themselves that the devil was driven out, and prepared\naccordingly to take up their quarters for the whole winter in the\npalace. These symptoms on their part became the signal for renewed\nuproar among the fiends. On the 1st of November, they heard something\nwalking with a slow and solemn pace up and down the withdrawing-room,\nand immediately afterwards a shower of stones, bricks, mortar, and\nbroken glass pelted about their ears. On the 2nd the steps were again\nheard in the withdrawing-room, sounding to their fancy very much like\nthe treading of an enormous bear, which continued for about a quarter\nof an hour. This noise having ceased, a large warming-pan was thrown\nviolently upon the table, followed by a number of stones and the\njawbone of a horse. Some of the boldest walked valiantly into the\nwithdrawing-room, armed with swords, and pistols; but could discover\nnothing. They were afraid that night to go to sleep, and sat up, making\nfires in every room, and burning candles and lamps in great abundance;\nthinking that, as the fiends loved darkness, they would not disturb a\ncompany surrounded with so much light. They were deceived, however:\nbuckets of water came down the chimneys and extinguished the fires, and\nthe candles were blown out, they knew not how. Some of the servants who\nhad betaken themselves to bed were drenched with putrid ditch-water as\nthey lay, and arose in great fright, muttering incoherent prayers, and\nexposing to the wondering eyes of the commissioners their linen all\ndripping with green moisture, and their knuckles red with the blows\nthey had at the same time received from some invisible tormentors.\nWhile they were still speaking, there was a noise like the loudest\nthunder, or the firing of a whole park of artillery, upon which they\nall fell down upon their knees and implored the protection of the\nAlmighty. One of the commissioners then arose, the others still\nkneeling, and asked in a courageous voice, and in the name of God, who\nwas there, and what they had done that they should be troubled in that\nmanner. No answer was returned, and the noises ceased for a while. At\nlength, however, as the commissioners said, \"the devil came again, and\nbrought with it seven devils worse than itself.\" Being again in\ndarkness, they lighted a candle and placed it in the doorway, that it\nmight throw a light upon the two chambers at once; but it was suddenly\nblown out, and one commissioner said that he had \"seen the similitude\nof a horse's hoof striking the candle and candlestick into the middle\nof the chamber, and afterwards making three scrapes on the snuff to put\nit out.\" Upon this, the same person was so bold as to draw his sword;\nbut he asserted positively that he had hardly withdrawn it from the\nscabbard before an invisible hand seized hold of it and tugged with him\nfor it, and prevailing, struck him so violent a blow with the pommel\nthat he was quite stunned. Then the noises began again; upon which,\nwith one accord, they all retired into the presence-chamber, where they\npassed the night, praying and singing psalms.\n\nThey were by this time convinced that it was useless to struggle any\nlonger with the powers of evil, that seemed determined to make\nWoodstock their own. These things happened on the Saturday night; and,\nbeing repeated on the Sunday, they determined to leave the place\nimmediately, and return to London. By Tuesday morning early, all their\npreparations were completed; and, shaking the dust off their feet, and\ndevoting Woodstock and all its inhabitants to the infernal gods, they\nfinally took their departure. [Dr. H. More's Continuation of Glanvil's\nCollection of Relations in proof of Witchcraft.]\n\nMany years elapsed before the true cause of these disturbances was\ndiscovered. It was ascertained, at the Restoration, that the whole was\nthe work of Giles Sharp, the trusty clerk of the commissioners. This\nman, whose real name was Joseph Collins, was a concealed royalist, and\nhad passed his early life within the bowers of Woodstock; so that he\nknew every hole and corner of the place, and the numerous trap-doors\nand secret passages that abounded in the building. The commissioners,\nnever suspecting the true state of his opinions, but believing him to\nbe revolutionary to the back-bone, placed the utmost reliance upon him;\na confidence which he abused in the manner above detailed, to his own\ngreat amusement, and that of the few cavaliers whom he let into the\nsecret.\n\nQuite as extraordinary and as cleverly managed was the trick played off\nat Tedworth, in 1661, at the house of Mr. Mompesson, and which is so\ncircumstantially narrated by the Rev. Joseph Glanvil, under the title\nof \"The Demon of Tedworth,\" and appended, among other proofs of\nwitchcraft, to his noted work, called \"Sadducismus Triumphatus.\" About\nthe middle of April, in the year above mentioned, Mr. Mompesson, having\nreturned to his house, at Tedworth, from a journey he had taken to\nLondon, was informed by his wife, that during his absence they had been\ntroubled with the most extraordinary noises.  Three nights afterwards\nhe heard the noise himself; and it appeared to him to be that of \"a\ngreat knocking at his doors, and on the outside of his walls.\" He\nimmediately arose, dressed himself, took down a pair of pistols, and\nwalked valiantly forth to discover the disturber, under the impression\nthat it must be a robber: but, as he went, the noise seemed to travel\nbefore or behind him; and, when he arrived at the door from which he\nthought it proceeded, he saw nothing, but still heard \"a strange hollow\nsound.\" He puzzled his brains for a long time, and searched every\ncorner of the house; but, discovering nothing, he went to bed again. He\nwas no sooner snug under the clothes, than the noise began again more\nfuriously than ever, sounding very much like a \"thumping and drumming\non the top of his house, and then by degrees going off into the air.\"\n\nThese things continued for several nights, when it came to the\nrecollection of Mr. Mompesson that some time before, he had given\norders for the arrest and imprisonment of a wandering drummer, who went\nabout the country with a large drum, disturbing quiet people and\nsoliciting alms, and that he had detained the man's drum, and that,\nprobably, the drummer was a wizard, and had sent evil spirits to haunt\nhis house, to be revenged of him. He became strengthened in his opinion\nevery day, especially when the noises assumed, to his fancy, a\nresemblance to the beating of a drum, \"like that at the breaking up of\na guard.\" Mrs. Mompesson being brought to bed, the devil, or the\ndrummer, very kindly and considerately refrained from making the usual\nriot; but, as soon as she recovered strength, began again \"in a ruder\nmanner than before, following and vexing the young children, and\nbeating their bedsteads with so much violence that every one expected\nthey would fall in pieces.\" For an hour together, as the worthy Mr.\nMompesson repeated to his wondering neighbours, this infernal drummer\n\"would beat 'Roundheads and Cuckolds,' the 'Tat-too,' and several other\npoints of war, as cleverly as any soldier.\" When this had lasted long\nenough, he changed his tactics, and scratched with his iron talons\nunder the children's bed. \"On the 5th of November,\" says the Rev.\nJoseph Glanvil, \"it made a mighty noise; and a servant, observing two\nboards in the children's room seeming to move, he bid it give him one\nof them. Upon which the board came (nothing moving it, that he saw),\nwithin a yard of him. The man added, 'Nay, let me have it in my hand;'\nupon which the spirit, devil, or drummer pushed it towards him so\nclose, that he might touch it. \"This,\" continues Glanvil, \"was in the\nday-time, and was seen by a whole room full of people. That morning it\nleft a sulphureous smell behind it, which was very offensive. At night\nthe minister, one Mr. Cragg, and several of the neighhours, came to the\nhouse, on a visit. Mr. Cragg went to prayers with them, kneeling at the\nchildren's bedside, where it then became very troublesome and loud.\nDuring prayer time, the spirit withdrew into the cock-loft, but\nreturned as soon as prayers were done; and then, in sight of the\ncompany, the chairs walked about the room of themselves, the children's\nshoes were hurled over their heads, and every loose thing moved about\nthe chamber. At the same time, a bed-staff was thrown at the minister,\nwhich hit him on the leg, but so favourably, that a lock of wool could\nnot have fallen more softly.\" On another occasion, the blacksmith of\nthe village, a fellow who cared neither for ghost nor devil, slept with\nJohn, the footman, that he also might hear the disturbances, and be\ncured of his incredulity, when there \"came a noise in the room, as if\none had been shoeing a horse, and somewhat came, as it were, with a\npair of pincers,\" snipping and snapping at the poor blacksmith's nose\nthe greater part of the night. Next day it came, panting like a dog out\nof breath; upon which some woman present took a bed-staff to knock at\nit, \"which was caught suddenly out of her hand, and thrown away; and\ncompany coming up, the room was presently filled with a bloomy noisome\nsmell, and was very hot, though without fire, in a very sharp and\nsevere winter. It continued in the bed, panting and scratching for an\nhour and a half, and then went into the next room, where it knocked a\nlittle, and seemed to rattle a chain.\"\n\nThe rumour of these wonderful occurrences soon spread all over the\ncountry, and people from far and near flocked to the haunted house of\nTedworth, to believe or doubt, as their natures led them, but all\nfilled with intense curiosity. It appears, too, that the fame of these\nevents reached the royal ear, and that some gentlemen were sent by the\nKing to investigate the circumstances, and draw up a report of what\nthey saw or heard. Whether the royal commissioners were more sensible\nmen than the neighbours of Mr. Mompesson, and required more clear and\npositive evidence than they, or whether the powers with which they were\narmed to punish anybody who might be found carrying on this deception,\nfrightened the evil-doers, is not certain; but Glanvil himself\nreluctantly confesses, that all the time they were in the house, the\nnoises ceased, and nothing was heard or seen. \"However,\" says he, \"as\nto the quiet of the house when the courtiers were there, the\nintermission may have been accidental, or perhaps the demon was not\nwilling to give so public a testimony of those transactions which might\npossibly convince those who, he had rather, should continue in unbelief\nof his existence.\"\n\nAs soon as the royal commissioners took their departure, the infernal\ndrummer re-commenced his antics, and hundreds of persons were daily\npresent to hear and wonder. Mr. Mompesson's servant was so fortunate as\nnot only to hear, but to see this pertinacious demon; for it came and\nstood at the foot of his bed. \"The exact shape and proportion of it he\ncould not discover; but he saw a great body, with two red and glaring\neyes, which, for some time, were fixed steadily on him, and at length\ndisappeared.\" Innumerable were the antics it played. Once it purred\nlike a cat; beat the children's legs black and blue; put a long spike\ninto Mr. Mompesson's bed, and a knife into his mother's; filled the\nporrengers with ashes; hid a Bible under the grate; and turned the\nmoney black in people's pockets. \"One night,\" said Mr. Mompesson, in a\nletter to Mr. Glanvil, \"there were seven or eight of these devils in\nthe shape of men, who, as soon as a gun was fired, would shuffle away\ninto an arbour;\" a circumstance which might have convinced Mr.\nMompesson of the mortal nature of his persecutors, if he had not been\nof the number of those worse than blind, who shut their eyes and refuse\nto see.\n\nIn the mean time the drummer, the supposed cause of all the mischief,\npassed his time in Gloucester gaol, whither he had been committed as a\nrogue and a vagabond. Being visited one day by some person from the\nneighbourhood of Tedworth, he asked what was the news in Wiltshire, and\nwhether people did not talk a great deal about a drumming in a\ngentleman's house there? The visiter replied, that he heard of nothing\nelse; upon which the drummer observed, \"I have done it; I have thus\nplagued him; and he shall never be quiet until he hath made me\nsatisfaction for taking away my drum.\" No doubt the fellow, who seems\nto have been a gipsy, spoke the truth, and that the gang of which he\nwas a member knew more about the noises at Mr. Mompesson's house than\nanybody else. Upon these words, however, he was brought to trial at\nSalisbury, for witchcraft; and, being found guilty, was sentenced to\ntransportation; a sentence which, for its leniency, excited no little\nwonder in that age, when such an accusation, whether proved or not,\ngenerally insured the stake or the gibbet. Glanvil says, that the\nnoises ceased immediately the drummer was sent beyond the seas; but\nthat, some how or other, he managed to return from transportation; \"by\nraising storms and affrighting the seamen, it was said;\" when the\ndisturbances were forthwith renewed, and continued at intervals for\nseveral years. Certainly, if the confederates of this roving gipsy were\nso pertinacious in tormenting poor weak Mr. Mompesson, their\npertinacity is a most extraordinary instance of what revenge is capable\nof. It was believed by many, at the time, that Mr. Mompesson himself\nwas privy to the whole matter, and permitted and encouraged these\ntricks in his house for the sake of notoriety; but it seems more\nprobable that the gipsies were the real delinquents, and that Mr.\nMompesson was as much alarmed and bewildered as his credulous\nneighhours, whose excited imaginations conjured up no small portion of\nthese stories,\n\n\"Which rolled, and as they rolled, grew larger every hour.\"\n\nMany instances, of a similar kind, during the seventeenth century,\nmight be gleaned from Glanvil and other writers of that period; but\nthey do not differ sufficiently from these to justify a detail of them.\nThe most famous of all haunted houses acquired its notoriety much\nnearer our own time; and the circumstances connected with it are so\ncurious, and afford so fair a specimen of the easy credulity even of\nwell-informed and sensible people, as to merit a little notice in this\nchapter. The Cock Lane Ghost, as it was called, kept London in\ncommotion for a considerable time, and was the theme of conversation\namong the learned and the illiterate, and in every circle, from that of\nthe prince to that of the peasant.\n\nAt the commencement of the year 1760, there resided in Cock Lane, near\nWest Smithfield, in the house of one Parsons, the parish clerk of St.\nSepulchre's, a stockbroker, named Kent. The wife of this gentleman had\ndied in child-bed during the previous year, and his sister-in-law, Miss\nFanny, had arrived from Norfolk to keep his house for him. They soon\nconceived a mutual affection, and each of them made a will in the\nother's favour. They lived some months in the house of Parsons, who,\nbeing a needy man, borrowed money of his lodger. Some difference arose\nbetwixt them, and Mr. Kent left the house, and instituted legal\nproceedings against the parish clerk for the recovery of his money.\n\nWhile this matter was yet pending, Miss Fanny was suddenly taken ill of\nthe small-pox; and, notwithstanding every care and attention, she died\nin a few days, and was buried in a vault under Clerkenwell church.\nParsons now began to hint that the poor lady had come unfairly by her\ndeath, and that Mr. Kent was accessory to it, from his too great\neagerness to enter into possession of the property she had bequeathed\nhim. Nothing further was said for nearly two years; but it would appear\nthat Parsons was of so revengeful a character, that he had never\nforgotten or forgiven his differences with Mr. Kent, and the indignity\nof having been sued for the borrowed money. The strong passions of\npride and avarice were silently at work during all that interval,\nhatching schemes of revenge, but dismissing them one after the other as\nimpracticable, until, at last, a notable one suggested itself. About\nthe beginning of the year 1762, the alarm was spread over all the\nneighbourhood of Cock Lane, that the house of Parsons was haunted by\nthe ghost of poor Fanny, and that the daughter of Parsons, a girl about\ntwelve years of age, had several times seen and conversed with the\nspirit, who had, moreover, informed her, that she had not died of the\nsmallpox, as was currently reported, but of poison, administered by Mr.\nKent. Parsons, who originated, took good care to countenance these\nreports; and, in answer to numerous inquiries, said his house was every\nnight, and had been for two years, in fact, ever since the death of\nFanny, troubled by a loud knocking at the doors and in the walls.\nHaving thus prepared the ignorant and credulous neighhours to believe\nor exaggerate for themselves what he had told them, he sent for a\ngentleman of a higher class in life, to come and witness these\nextraordinary occurrences. The gentleman came accordingly, and found\nthe daughter of Parsons, to whom the spirit alone appeared, and whom\nalone it answered, in bed, trembling violently, having just seen the\nghost, and been again informed that she had died from poison. A loud\nknocking was also heard from every part of the chamber, which so\nmystified the not very clear understanding of the visiter, that he\ndeparted, afraid to doubt and ashamed to believe, but with a promise to\nbring the clergyman of the parish and several other gentlemen on the\nfollowing day, to report upon the mystery.\n\nOn the following night he returned, bringing with him three clergymen,\nand about twenty other persons, including two negroes, when, upon a\nconsultation with Parsons, they resolved to sit up the whole night, and\nawait the ghost's arrival. It was then explained by Parsons, that\nalthough the ghost would never render itself visible to anybody but his\ndaughter, it had no objection to answer the questions that might be put\nto it, by any person present, and that it expressed an affirmation by\none knock, a negative by two, and its displeasure by a kind of\nscratching. The child was then put into bed along with her sister, and\nthe clergymen examined the bed and bed-clothes to satisfy themselves\nthat no trick was played, by knocking upon any substance concealed\namong the clothes. As on the previous night, the bed was observed to\nshake violently.\n\nAfter some hours, during which they all waited with exemplary patience,\nthe mysterious knocking was heard in the wall, and the child declared\nthat she saw the ghost of poor Fanny. The following questions were then\ngravely put by the clergyman, through the medium of one Mary Frazer,\nthe servant of Parsons, and to whom it was said the deceased lady had\nbeen much attached. The answers were in the usual fashion, by a knock\nor knocks:--\n\n\"Do you make this disturbance on account of the ill usage you received\nfrom Mr. Kent?\"--\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Were you brought to an untimely end by poison?\"--\"Yes.\"\n\n\"How was the poison administered, in beer or in purl?\"--\"In purl.\"\n\n\"How long was that before your death?\"--\"About three hours.\"\n\n\"Can your former servant, Carrots, give any information about the\npoison?\"--\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Are you Kent's wife's sister?\"--\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Were you married to Kent after your sister's death?\"--\"No.\"\n\n\"Was anybody else, besides Kent, concerned in your murder?\"--\"No.\"\n\n\"Can you, if you like, appear visibly to anyone?\"--\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Will you do so?\"--\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Can you go out of this house?\"--\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Is it your intention to follow this child about everywhere?\"--\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Are you pleased in being asked these questions?\"--\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Does it case your troubled soul?\"--\"Yes.\"\n\n[Here there was heard a mysterious noise, which some wiseacre present\ncompared to the fluttering of wings.]\n\n\"How long before your death did you tell your servant, Carrots, that\nyou were poisoned?--An hour?\"--\"Yes.\"\n\n[Carrots, who was present, was appealed to; but she stated positively\nthat such was not the fact, as the deceased was quite speechless an\nhour before her death. This shook the faith of some of the spectators,\nbut the examination was allowed to continue.]\n\n\"How long did Carrots live with you?\"--\"Three or four days.\"\n\n[Carrots was again appealed to, and said that this was true.]\n\n\"If Mr. Kent is arrested for this murder, will he confess?\"--\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Would your soul be at rest if he were hanged for it?\"--\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Will he be hanged for it?\"--\"Yes.\"\n\n\"How long a time first?\"--\"Three years.\"\n\n\"How many clergymen are there in this room?\"--\"Three.\"\n\n\"How many negroes?\"--\"Two.\"\n\n\"Is this watch (held up by one of the clergymen) white?\"--\"No.\"\n\n\"Is it yellow?\"--\"No.\"\n\n\"Is it blue?\"--\"No.\"\n\n\"Is it black?\"--\"Yes.\"\n\n[The watch was in a black shagreen case.]\n\n\"At what time this morning will you take your departure?\"\n\nThe answer to this question was four knocks, very distinctly heard by\nevery person present; and accordingly, at four o'clock precisely, the\nghost took its departure to the Wheatsheaf public-house, close by,\nwhere it frightened mine host and his lady almost out of their wits by\nknocking in the ceiling right above their bed.\n\nThe rumour of these occurrences very soon spread over London, and every\nday Cock Lane was rendered impassable by the crowds of people who\nassembled around the house of the parish clerk, in expectation of\neither seeing the ghost or of hearing the mysterious knocks. It was at\nlast found necessary, so clamorous were they for admission within the\nhaunted precincts, to admit those only who would pay a certain fee, an\narrangement which was very convenient to the needy and money-loving Mr.\nParsons. Indeed, things had taken a turn greatly to his satisfaction;\nhe not only had his revenge, but he made a profit out of it. The ghost,\nin consequence, played its antics every night, to the great amusement\nof many hundreds of people and the great perplexity of a still greater\nnumber.\n\nUnhappily, however, for the parish clerk, the ghost was induced to make\nsome promises which were the means of utterly destroying its\nreputation. It promised, in answer to the questions of the Reverend Mr.\nAldritch of Clerkenwell, that it would not only follow the little Miss\nParsons wherever she went, but would also attend him, or any other\ngentleman, into the vault under St. John's Church, where the body of\nthe murdered woman was deposited, and would there give notice of its\npresence by a distinct knock upon the coffin. As a preliminary, the\ngirl was conveyed to the house of Mr. Aldritch near the church, where a\nlarge party of ladies and gentlemen, eminent for their acquirements,\ntheir rank, or their wealth, had assembled. About ten o'clock on the\nnight of the 1st of February, the girl having been brought from Cock\nLane in a coach, was put to bed by several ladies in the house of Mr.\nAldritch; a strict examination having been previously made that nothing\nwas hidden in the bedclothes. While the gentlemen, in an adjoining\nchamber, were deliberating whether they should proceed in a body to the\nvault, they were summoned into the bedroom by the ladies, who affirmed,\nin great alarm, that the ghost was come, and that they heard the knocks\nand scratches. The gentlemen entered accordingly, with a determination\nto suffer no deception. The little girl, on being asked whether she saw\nthe ghost, replied, \"No; but she felt it on her back like a mouse.\" She\nwas then required to put her hands out of bed, and they being held by\nsome of the ladies, the spirit was summoned in the usual manner to\nanswer, if it were in the room. The question was several times put with\ngreat solemnity; but the customary knock was not heard in reply in the\nwalls, neither was there any scratching. The ghost was then asked to\nrender itself visible, but it did not choose to grant the request. It\nwas next solicited to give some token of its presence by a sound of any\nsort, or by touching the hand or cheek of any lady or gentleman in the\nroom; but even with this request the ghost would not comply.\n\nThere was now a considerable pause, and one of the clergymen went\ndownstairs to interrogate the father of the girl, who was waiting the\nresult of the experiment. He positively denied that there was any\ndeception, and even went so far as to say that he himself, upon one\noccasion, had seen and conversed with the awful ghost. This having been\ncommunicated to the company, it was unanimously resolved to give the\nghost another trial; and the clergyman called out in a loud voice to\nthe supposed spirit that the gentleman to whom it had promised to\nappear in the vault, was about to repair to that place, where he\nclaimed the fulfilment of its promise. At one hour after midnight they\nall proceeded to the church, and the gentleman in question, with\nanother, entered the vault alone, and took up their position alongside\nof the coffin of poor Fanny. The ghost was then summoned to appear, but\nit appeared not; it was summoned to knock, but it knocked not; it was\nsummoned to scratch, but it scratched not; and the two retired from the\nvault, with the firm belief that the whole business was a deception\npractised by Parsons and his daughter. There were others, however, who\ndid not wish to jump so hastily to a conclusion, and who suggested that\nthey were, perhaps, trifling with this awful and supernatural being,\nwhich, being offended with them for their presumption, would not\ncondescend to answer them. Again, after a serious consultation, it was\nagreed on all hands that, if the ghost answered anybody at all, it\nwould answer Mr. Kent, the supposed murderer; and he was accordingly\nrequested to go down into the vault.  He went with several others, and\nsummoned the ghost to answer whether he had indeed poisoned her. There\nbeing no answer, the question was put by Mr. Aldritch, who conjured it,\nif it were indeed a spirit, to end their doubts-make a sign of its\npresence, and point out the guilty person. There being still no answer\nfor the space of half an hour, during which time all these boobies\nwaited with the most praiseworthy perseverance, they returned to the\nhouse of Mr. Aldritch, and ordered the girl to get up and dress\nherself. She was strictly examined, but persisted in her statement that\nshe used no deception, and that the ghost had really appeared to her.\n\nSo many persons had, by their openly expressed belief of the reality of\nthe visitation, identified themselves with it, that Parsons and his\nfamily were far from being the only persons interested in the\ncontinuance of the delusion. The result of the experiment convinced\nmost people; but these were not to be convinced by any evidence,\nhowever positive, and they, therefore, spread abroad the rumour, that\nthe ghost had not appeared in the vault because Mr. Kent had taken care\nbeforehand to have the coffin removed. That gentleman, whose position\nwas a very painful one, immediately procured competent witnesses, in\nwhose presence the vault was entered and the coffin of poor Fanny\nopened. Their deposition was then published; and Mr. Kent indicted\nParsons and his wife, his daughter, Mary Frazer the servant, the\nReverend Mr. Moor, and a tradesman, two of the most prominent patrons\nof the deception, for a conspiracy. The trial came on in the Court of\nKing's Bench, on the 10th of July, before Lord Chief-Justice Mansfield,\nwhen, after an investigation which lasted twelve hours, the whole of\nthe conspirators were found guilty. The Reverend Mr. Moor and his\nfriend were severely reprimanded in open court, and recommended to make\nsome pecuniary compensation to the prosecutor for the aspersions they\nhad been instrumental in throwing upon his character. Parsons was\nsentenced to stand three times in the pillory, and to be imprisoned for\ntwo years: his wife to one year's, and his servant to six months'\nimprisonment in the Bridewell. A printer, who had been employed by them\nto publish an account of the proceedings for their profit, was also\nfined fifty pounds, and discharged.\n\nThe precise manner in which the deception was carried on has never been\nexplained. The knocking in the wall appears to have been the work of\nParsons' wife, while the scratching part of the business was left to\nthe little girl. That any contrivance so clumsy could have deceived\nanybody, cannot fail to excite our wonder. But thus it always is. If\ntwo or three persons can only be found to take the lead in any\nabsurdity, however great, there is sure to be plenty of imitators.\nLike sheep in a field, if one clears the stile, the rest will follow.\n\nAbout ten years afterwards, London was again alarmed by the story of a\nhaunted house. Stockwell, near Vauxhall, the scene of the antics of\nthis new ghost, became almost as celebrated in the annals of\nsuperstition as Cock Lane. Mrs. Golding, an elderly lady, who resided\nalone with her servant, Anne Robinson, was sorely surprised on the\nevening of Twelfth-Day, 1772, to observe a most extraordinary commotion\namong her crockery. Cups and saucers rattled down the chimney--pots and\npans were whirled down stairs, or through the windows; and hams,\ncheeses, and loaves of bread disported themselves upon the floor as if\nthe devil were in them. This, at least, was the conclusion that Mrs.\nGolding came to; and being greatly alarmed, she invited some of her\nneighbours to stay with her, and protect her from the evil one. Their\npresence, however, did not put a stop to the insurrection of china, and\nevery room in the house was in a short time strewed with the fragments.\nThe chairs and tables joined, at last, in the tumults, and things\nlooked altogether so serious and inexplicable, that the neighbours,\ndreading that the house itself would next be seized with a fit of\nmotion, and tumble about their ears, left poor Mrs. Golding to bear the\nbrunt of it by herself. The ghost in this case was solemnly\nremonstrated with, and urged to take its departure; but the demolition\ncontinuing as great as before, Mrs. Golding finally made up her mind to\nquit the house altogether. She took refuge with Anne Robinson in the\nhouse of a neighbour; but his glass and crockery being immediately\nsubjected to the same persecution, he was reluctantly compelled to give\nher notice to quit. The old lady thus forced back to her own house,\nendured the disturbance for some days longer, when suspecting that Anne\nRobinson was the cause of all the mischief, she dismissed her from her\nservice. The extraordinary appearances immediately ceased, and were\nnever afterwards renewed; a fact which is of itself sufficient to point\nout the real disturber. A long time afterwards, Anne Robinson confessed\nthe whole matter to the Reverend Mr. Bray field. This gentleman\nconfided the story to Mr. Hone, who has published an explanation of the\nmystery. Anne, it appears, was anxious to have a clear house, to carry\non an intrigue with her lover, and resorted to this trick to effect her\npurpose. She placed the china on the shelves in such a manner that it\nfell on the slightest motion, and attached horse-hairs to other\narticles, so that she could jerk them down from an adjoining room\nwithout being perceived by any one. She was exceedingly dexterous at\nthis sort of work, and would have proved a formidable rival to many a\njuggler by profession. A full explanation of the whole affair may be\nfound in the \"Every-day Book.\"\n\nThe latest instance of the popular panic occasioned by a house supposed\nto be haunted, occurred in Scotland, in the winter of the year 1838. On\nthe 5th of December, the inmates of the farm-house of Baldarroch, in\nthe district of Banchory, Aberdeenshire, were alarmed by observing a\ngreat number of sticks, pebble-stones, and clods of earth flying about\ntheir yard and premises. They endeavoured, but in vain, to discover who\nwas the delinquent; and the shower of stones continuing for five days\nin succession, they came at last to the conclusion that the devil and\nhis imps were alone the cause of it. The rumour soon spread over all\nthat part of the country, and hundreds of persons came from far and\nnear to witness the antics of the devils of Baldarroch. After the fifth\nday, the shower of clods and stones ceased on the outside of the\npremises, and the scene shifted to the interior.  Spoons, knives,\nplates, mustard-pots, rolling-pins, and flat-irons appeared suddenly\nendued with the power of self-motion, and were whirled from room to\nroom, and rattled down the chimneys in a manner which nobody could\naccount for. The lid of a mustard-pot was put into a cupboard by the\nservant-girl in the presence of scores of people, and in a few minutes\nafterwards came bouncing down the chimney to the consternation of\neverybody. There was also a tremendous knocking at the doors and on the\nroof, and pieces of stick and pebble-stones rattled against the windows\nand broke them. The whole neighbourhood was a scene of alarm; and not\nonly the vulgar, but persons of education, respectable farmers, within\na circle of twenty miles, expressed their belief in the supernatural\ncharacter of these events, and offered up devout prayers to be\npreserved from the machinations of the Evil One. The note of fear being\nonce sounded, the visiters, as is generally the case in all tales of\nwonder, strove with each other who should witness the most\nextraordinary occurrences; and within a week, it was generally believed\nin the parishes of Banchory-Ternan, Drumoak, Durris, Kincardine-O'Neil,\nand all the circumjacent districts of Mearns and Aberdeenshire, that\nthe devil had been seen in the act of hammering upon the house-top of\nBaldarroch. One old man asserted positively that, one night, after\nhaving been to see the strange gambols of the knives and mustard-pots,\nhe met the phantom of a great black man, \"who wheeled round his head\nwith a whizzing noise, making a wind about his ears that almost blew\nhis bonnet off,\" and that he was haunted by him in this manner for\nthree miles. It was also affirmed and believed, that all horses and\ndogs that approached this enchanted ground, were immediately\naffected--that a gentleman, slow of faith, had been cured of his\nincredulity by meeting the butter-churn jumping in at the door as he\nhimself was going out--that the roofs of houses had been torn off, and\nthat several ricks in the corn-yard had danced a quadrille together, to\nthe sound of the devil's bagpipes re-echoing from the mountain-tops.\nThe women in the family of the persecuted farmer of Baldarroch also\nkept their tongues in perpetual motion; swelling with their strange\nstories the tide of popular wonder. The good wife herself, and all her\nservants, said that, whenever they went to bed, they were attacked with\nstones and other missiles, some of which came below the blankets and\ngently tapped their toes. One evening, a shoe suddenly darted across a\ngarret where some labourers were sitting, and one of the men, who\nattempted to catch it, swore positively that it was so hot and heavy he\nwas unable to hold it. It was also said that the bearbeater (a sort of\nmortar used to bruise barley in)--an object of such weight that it\nrequires several men to move it--spontaneously left the barn and flew\nover the house-top, alighting at the feet of one of the servant maids,\nand hitting her, but without hurting her in the least, or even causing\nher any alarm; it being a fact well known to her, that all objects thus\nthrown about by the devil lost their specific gravity, and could harm\nnobody, even though they fell upon a person's head.\n\nAmong the persons drawn to Baldarroch by these occurrences were the\nheritor, the minister, and all the elders of the Kirk, under whose\nsuperintendence an investigation was immediately commenced. Their\nproceedings were not promulgated for some days; and, in the mean time,\nrumour continued to travel through all the Highlands, magnifying each\nmysterious incident the further it got from home. It was said, that\nwhen the goodwife put her potato-pot on the fire, each potato, as the\nwater boiled, changed into a demon, and grinned horribly at her as she\nlifted the lid; that not only chairs and tables, but carrots and\nturnips, skipped along the floor in the merriest manner imaginable;\nthat shoes and boots went through all the evolutions of the Highland\nfling without any visible wearers directing their motions; and that a\npiece of meat detached itself from the hook on which it hung in the\npantry, and placed itself before the fire, whence all the efforts of\nthe people of the house were unable to remove it until it was\nthoroughly roasted; and that it then flew up the chimney with a\ntremendous bang. At Baldarroch itself the belief was not quite so\nextravagant; but the farmer was so convinced that the devil and his\nimps were alone the cause of all the disturbance, that he travelled a\ndistance of forty miles to an old conjuror, named Willie Foreman, to\ninduce him, for a handsome fee, to remove the enchantment from his\nproperty. There were, of course, some sensible and educated people,\nwho, after stripping the stories circulated of their exaggeration,\nattributed all the rest to one or other of two causes; first, that some\ngipsies, or strolling mendicants, hidden in the neighbouring\nplantation, were amusing themselves by working on the credulity of the\ncountry people; or, secondly, that the inmates of Baldarroch carried on\nthis deception themselves, for some reason or other, which was not very\nclear to anybody. The last opinion gained but few believers, as the\nfarmer and his family were much respected; and so many persons had, in\nthe most open manner, expressed their belief in the supernatural\nagency, that they did not like to stultify themselves by confessing\nthat they had been deceived.\n\nAt last, after a fortnight's continuance of the noises, the whole trick\nwas discovered. The two servant lasses were strictly examined, and then\ncommitted to prison. It appeared that they were alone at the bottom of\nthe whole affair, and that the extraordinary alarm and credulity of\ntheir master and mistress, in the first instance, and of the neighbours\nand country people afterwards, made their task comparatively easy. A\nlittle common dexterity was all they had used; and, being themselves\nunsuspected, they swelled the alarm by the wonderful stories they\ninvented. It was they who loosened the bricks in the chimneys, and\nplaced the dishes in such a manner on the shelves, that they fell on\nthe slightest motion. In short, they played the same tricks as those\nused by the servant girl at Stockwell, with the same results, and for\nthe same purpose--the gratification of a love of mischief. They were no\nsooner secured in the county gaol than the noises ceased, and most\npeople were convinced that human agency alone had worked all the\nwonder. Some few of the most devoutly superstitious still held out in\ntheir first belief, and refused to listen to any explanation.\n\nThese tales of haunted houses, especially those of the last and present\ncentury, however they may make us blush for popular folly, are yet\ngratifying in their results; for they show that society has made a vast\nimprovement. Had Parsons and his wife, and the other contrivers of the\nCock Lane deception, lived two hundred years earlier, they would not,\nperhaps, have found a greater number of dupes, but they would have been\nhanged as witches, instead of being imprisoned as vagabonds. The\ningenious Anne Robinson and the sly lasses of Baldarroch would,\ndoubtless, have met a similar fate. Thus it is pleasant to reflect,\nthat though there may be as much folly and credulity in the world as\never, in one class of society, there is more wisdom and mercy in\nanother than ever were known before. Lawgivers, by blotting from the\nstatute-book the absurd or sanguinary enactments of their predecessors,\nhave made one step towards teaching the people. It is to be hoped that\nthe day is not far distant when lawgivers will teach the people by some\nmore direct means, and prevent the recurrence of delusions like these,\nand many worse, which might be cited, by securing to every child born\nwithin their dominions an education in accordance with the advancing\nstate of civilization. If ghosts and witches are not yet altogether\nexploded, it is the fault, not so much of the ignorant people, as of\nthe law and the government that have neglected to enlighten them.","title":"Memoirs of Extraordinary Popular Delusions \u2014 Volume 2","tradition":"ritual-magic","translated_text":null,"word_count":99852}