At Epworth parsonage, Lincolnshire, when the Rev. Samuel Wesley, father of John Wesley, was rector, there is a well-known story of the haunting of the parsonage. Robert Brown the servant heard, among other phenomena, "as it were the gobbling of a turkey-cock close to the bedside."
The dog, a large mastiff, showed enormous fear of the strange incidents and apparitions. "When the disturbances continued he used to bark and leap and snap on one side and the other, and that frequently before any person in the room heard any noise at all. But after two or three days he used to tremble and creep away before the noise began. And by that the family knew it was at hand."
Ewshott House, in Crondall, Hampshire, was haunted by a ghost that made a noise exactly as though a flock of sheep from the paddock had rushed by the windows on the gravel drive. In the morning, however, there were no signs of sheep having passed that way.
Willington Mill was haunted by several spectres in the shape of animals. The mill stood on a tidal stream which ran into the Tyne near to Wallsend. The account of strange happenings there was published by the "Newcastle Weekly Leader" many years ago. One of the servants once saw a lady in a lavender-coloured dress pass the kitchen door, go upstairs, and vanish into one of the bedrooms, but little notice was taken of this apparition; indeed it was almost forgotten when something else happened which drew attention to it. A certain Thomas Davidson was courting this servant and was waiting for her to come out of the mill and join him in a moonlight ramble, when, looking towards the building, he distinctly saw a whitish cat run out and presently it came close to his feet.
Thinking the strange puss was very forward, he gave her a kick, but encountered no solid matter and puss continued her walk, disappearing from his sight a moment later. Returning to the window, and looking in the same direction, Davidson again saw the animal. This time it came hopping like a rabbit, coming quite as close to his feet as before. He determined to have a good rap at it, and took deliberate aim: but, as before, his foot went through it and he felt nothing. Again he followed it, and it disappeared at the same spot as its predecessor. The third time he went to the window and in a few moments it made another appearance, not like a cat or rabbit now but as large as a sheep and brightly luminous. On it came and Davidson stood rooted to the spot as though paralysed, but the animal moved on and vanished as before.
Mr. Proctor, who lived at the mill, on hearing Davidson's account, said that he had seen the animal on various occasions.
After this experience ghosts were frequently seen and heard of at the mill. The noises were dreadful, sometimes sounding like a galloping donkey, at others like falling fire-irons. Doors creaked and sticks crackled as though burning, and the rapping became almost incessant. Sometimes the lavender-gowned lady appeared, and at another time several of the inmates of the mill saw a bald-headed old man in a flowing robe like a surplice. Spectral animals always formed an important feature of the haunting.
In November, 1841, a gentleman paid a visit to the place and was confronted by the figure of an animal about two feet high, which appeared in a window. After careful search nothing was found, though the animal was seen in the window by others from the grounds for half an hour, after which it slowly faded away. A two-year-old child saw a ghost kitten, while Davidson's aunt thought the spectre looked like a white pocket handkerchief, knotted at four corners, which danced up and down, leaping as high as the first floor window. This lady was one day standing by the kitchen table when she was startled by the bark of a dog, and two paws were laid heavily on her shoulders, so that she had to lean against the table for support. No dog, however, was found in the house. On several occasions the children, though nothing had been said to them about ghosts, found amusement in chasing up and down the stairs some animal they described either as a "funny cat or a bonny monkey."
In 1853, an attempt was made to discover the secret of the mystery of the mill by a clairvoyante, who in her trance distinctly saw, the "lady like a shadow, with eyes but no sight in them," as she described her, as well as a number of animals. When questioned about these, she answered, "One is like a monkey and another like a dog. Had the lady dogs and monkeys? They all go about the house. What is that other one? It is not a pussy, it runs very fast and gets amongst feet. It is a rabbit but a very quick one." When asked whether the animals were real, the medium replied in her quaint way, "We don't touch them to see, we would not like a bite."
Beyond this there appears to have been no solution as to the mystery of the haunted mill, although the medium declared that the trouble "came from the cellar."[162]
A writer in "Notes and Queries,"[163] H. Wedgewood by name, visited Mr. Proctor in 1873-4 to ask him the truth about the Willington Mill ghost, and he told her that he had seen a tabby cat in the furnace room. There was nothing unusual in the animal's appearance, and it would not have caught his attention particularly had it not begun to move. But then instead of walking like an ordinary cat it wriggled along like a snake. He went close to it and followed it across the room, holding his hand about a foot above it, until it passed straight into the solid wall.
The well-known Cornish tradition says that if a young woman dies neglected after being betrayed by her lover, she haunts him after her death in the form of a white hare. The false lover is continuously pursued by the phantom. At times it may rescue him from danger, but in the end it is the cause of his death.
The following story of a phantom hare pursuing a false lover to his death is told by Robert Hunt in "Popular Romances of the West of England."[164]
A young farmer settled at a fine new farmhouse and a peasant's daughter was placed there in charge of the dairy. The young farmer fell deeply in love with her and she with him, and he betrayed her under a promise of marriage, but his family refused to agree to the alliance taking place, and provided a bride for him suitable to his station. The dairymaid was sent away ignominiously when it was known she was about to become a mother. One morning the corpse of a newly-born infant was found in the farmer's field and the dairymaid was accused of strangling her child, and was finally convicted of murder and executed.
But ever after that day ill-fortune pursued the young farmer who had behaved in such a cowardly way, and though he removed to another part of the country, none of his projects prospered. Gradually he took to drink to drown his secret sorrows. He generally went out at dusk and it was noticed that a white hare constantly crossed his path. The animal was seen by many of the villagers to dart under the hoofs of his horse, and the terrified steed rushed madly forward whenever this phantom appeared.
A day came when the young farmer was found drowned in a pool at the bottom of a forsaken mine, and the frightened horse was still grazing near the mouth of the pit into which his master had fallen.
The woman he had betrayed and left to die a shameful death, having assumed the shape of a white hare, had haunted the perjured and false-hearted farmer to his death.
It is said that fatal accidents in mines are often foreshadowed by the appearance of a white hare or rabbit. At Wheal Vor, writes Mr. Hunt, in "Popular Romances of the West of England," it has always been and is now believed that a white rabbit appears in one of the engine houses when an accident may be looked for in the mine. The men say that they have chased the phantom animals without being able to catch them, and on one occasion the rabbit ran into a "windbore" which lay on the ground and escaped. Similarly in a French mine one of the miners saw a white object run into an iron pipe and hide there. He hastened forward and stopped up both ends of the tube, calling to a companion to examine the pipe. But the animal ghost had disappeared and nothing remained to explain what had taken place.
The devil appeared in the form of a hare at the hanging of two men on Warminster Down in 1813, it was said. At Longbridge the devil appeared in the form of a dog one Palm Sunday, according to the account of a labourer, who when questioned as to how this was proved, exclaimed, "Sum'at was there anyhow, and we all fled!"
A farmer in South Wilts who died about 1860, threatened to revisit his farm on a lonely moor and run about in the shape of a rat. The story does not say what he expected to gain by choosing this particular animal for transformation purposes.
Superstition gives to white birds a particular power of conveying omens.
A small white bird plays a part in warning an old harper in Wales of the destruction of a prince's palace, whither the bard had been invited to perform at festivities held on the occasion of the birth of an heir.
Tradition relates that Bala Lake was formed as a means of submerging a palace where lived a cruel and wicked prince, who practised oppression and injustice upon poor farmers of the district. The tyrant often heard a ghostly voice urging him to desist from his evil ways and saying, "Vengeance will come," but he treated the warning with contempt.
On the occasion of his son's birth, there was great rejoicing at the palace, and the poor harper was called in to play to the guests. Mirth, wine, feasting, and dancing continued till a late hour, and during the interval in which the harper was allowed to rest, he retired into a quiet corner, where, to his astonishment, he heard a whisper in his ear, "Vengeance, vengeance!" Turning to discover whence the sound came, he observed a tiny white bird hovering about him, urging him, as it were, to follow. He fell in with the creature's wishes without stopping to fetch his harp, and the bird led him beyond the palace walls, still singing in a plaintive note the word "Vengeance, vengeance!" Over marshland, through thickets, across streams and up ravines this strange pair wandered, the bird seemingly choosing the safest path for her companion, and growing ever more insistent in her cries of "Vengeance, vengeance!" At last they came to the summit of a hill some distance from the palace. Utterly weary the harper ventured to stop and rest, and the bird's voice was heard no more, but as he listened he could distinguish the loud murmur of a brook.
Suddenly he awoke to the fact that he had allowed himself to be led away foolishly, and he attempted to retrace his steps. In the dark, however, he missed his way and was forced to await daylight. Then to his surprise he turned his eyes upon the valley in which the palace had stood and discovered that it was no longer to be seen, for the waters had flooded the face of the land, and on the placid lake that lay in the valley his harp was floating.
Another story of birds that foreshadowed a calamity is told about Yorkshire. A writer in "Notes and Queries"[165] passed through the district of Kettering on September 6, and noticed an immense flock of birds which flew round and round, uttering dismal cries. He spoke of the matter to his servant, who told him the birds were called the "Seven Whistlers," and that whenever they were heard a great calamity might be expected. The last time he had heard them was the night before the great Hartley Colliery explosion. Curiously enough the writer, on taking up the newspaper the following morning, saw an announcement of a terrible colliery explosion at Wigan.
On the Bosphorus the boatmen say, with reference to certain flocks of birds which fly ceaselessly up and down the channel, never resting on land or water, that they are the souls of the damned, doomed to perpetual motion.
A strange bird-ghost is connected with the lake and house of Glasfryn. On a certain evening, Grassi, which is the phantom's name, forgot to close the well and the waters overflowed and formed a lake. There she wanders at night bemoaning her carelessness. She also visits the house as a tall lady with well-marked features, large, bright eyes and dressed all in white. Another version of the story is that when the water overflowed and the lake was formed, the fairies seized Grassi and changed her into a swan and she continued to live by the waters for more than a century and died still lamenting her lot. Another version runs that the lady was changed into a swan as a punishment for haunting the house.
Holt Castle, in Worcestershire, is said to have been haunted by a mysterious lady in black who walked through a passage which led to the attics, while the cellar was in the possession of a phantom bird, not unlike a raven, which occasionally pounced upon the servants who went to draw beer or cider from the casks there. By flapping his wings, the unholy bird extinguished the candle of the adventuresome human being who invaded his domain, and then vanished, leaving his victim prostrated with fear.
York Castle was the scene in which an extraordinary ghost took animal shape. The story is told in the Memoirs of Sir John Reresby.
"One of my soldiers being on guard about eleven in the night at the gate of Clifford Tower, the very night after a witch had been arraigned, he heard a great noise in the castle; and going to the porch there saw a scroll of paper creep from under the floor, which, as he imagined by moonshine, turned first into the shape of a monkey, and thence assumed the form of a turkeycock, which passed to and fro by him. Surprised at this, he went to the prison and called the under-keeper, who came and saw the 'scroll' dance up and down, and creep under the door, where there was scarce an opening of the thickness of half a crown. This extraordinary story I had from the mouth of both one and the other."
Among the curiously shaped phantoms are those which have an important part of their anatomy lacking, and most common of all are the ghosts, human and animal, that are seen without a head. Indeed the belief in headless spectres, both of equine and canine beings, is remarkably widespread throughout England.
The Rev. Richard Dodge, a Cornish clergyman, who lived near Looe, was an exorcist, and was said to be able "to drive along evil spirits of various shapes, pursuing them with his whip." One day his services were commanded by a Mr. Mills, Rector of Lanreath, who said that labourers had been startled by an apparition of a man in black garb driving a carriage drawn by headless horses. Mr. Dodge met Mr. Mills, but as they saw no apparition, they parted to return to their respective homes. Mr. Dodge's horse grew restive and refused to proceed, so he, thinking something uncanny was about to take place, allowed the animal to return to the spot where he had parted from Mr. Mills, whom, to his distress, he found lying prostrate on the ground with the spectre and his black coach and headless horses beside him.
Jumping down to assist his friend, Dodge uttered a prayer, and the spectre screaming, "Dodge is come, I must be gone," whipped up the ghost horses and vanished into the night.
Spectre horsemen are common and one is said to haunt Wyecoller Hall. The ghost is dressed in the costume of the Stuart period, and the trappings of the horse are of uncouth description. On windy nights the horseman is heard dashing up to the Hall. The rider dismounts, makes his way up the stairs into a room on the first landing, whence presently screams and groans issue. Suddenly the horseman reappears and gallops off, the horse appearing wild with rage, its nostrils streaming fire. The tradition is that one of the Cunliffes of Billington, for long the owners of Wyecoller Hall, near Colne, murdered his wife and reappears every year as a spectre horseman in the home of his victim. She is said to have predicted the extinction of the family, a prediction long since fulfilled.
The midnight hunter and his headless hounds are often to be seen in Cornwall, and the Abbot's Way, on Dartmoor, is said to be a favourite spot for their visitations. Sir Francis Drake was supposed to drive a hearse into Plymouth by night, followed by a pack of headless, but nevertheless howling, hounds. On Cheney Downs in the parish of St. Teath, ghostly hounds said to have belonged to an old squire called Cheney, were often seen and heard, especially in rough weather.
Herne, the ghostly hunter of Windsor Forest, has his counterpart in the Grand Veneur of Fontainebleau. While hunting in his favourite forest, Henry II of France was suddenly startled by the sound of horns, and the cries of huntsmen and the barking of dogs. At first they sounded far away, but soon they came close by. Some of the company in advance of the king "saw a great black man among the bushes," crying in sepulchral tones, "M'attendez-vous?" or "M'entendez-vous?" or "Amendez-vous." The king, startled, inquired of the foresters and peasants what they knew of the apparition. He was informed that they had frequently seen the rider, accompanied by a pack of hounds, which hunted at full cry, but never did any harm.
Dan gives Pierre Matthieu's version of the story and adds, "I know what several authors narrate concerning the hunt of Saint Hubert, which they declare is heard in various parts of the forest. Nor do I ignore what they say of the spectre called the 'Whipper,' which was supposed to appear in the time of Charles IX in the forest of Lyons, and which left the mark of the lash on several people. Nor do I doubt that demons may wander in the forest as well as in the air. But I know well as regards the 'Grand Veneur' nothing is certain, least of all the circumstances in which, according to the reports of the authors, this phantom appears, and the words of which he makes use."[166]
The spectre huntsman chasing the wild doe and the headless hounds in full cry are amongst the many prominent demon superstitions still extant and the chief legends concerning them, with their variants, are mentioned by Charles Hardwick in "Traditions, Superstitions, and Folk-lore."[167] The appearance of these and other animal spectres, however, has never been satisfactorily explained, and the question that naturally occurs to the student after reading such stories is whether animals are able to send forth astral or phantasmal doubles in a manner similar to that in which it is believed human beings can project them.
CHAPTER XXII
THE PHANTASMAL DOUBLE
According to Adolphe d'Assier, member of the Bordeaux Academy of Sciences, there is no doubt that the existence of the personality in animals as a separate appearance is established, and as it is a replica of the external form of the animal, he regards it as a living and phantasmal image.[168] He cites the following stories in support of his theory.
"Towards the end of 1869, finding myself at Bordeaux, I met one evening a friend who was going to a magnetic séance, and asked me to accompany him. I accepted his invitation, desiring to see magnetism at close quarters. The séance presented nothing remarkable. I was, however, struck with one unexpected circumstance. Towards the middle of the evening one of the persons present, having noticed a spider on the floor, crushed it with his foot.
"'Ah!' cried the medium at the same moment, 'I see the spirit of the spider escaping.'
"In the language of mediums, as we know, the word spirit designates that which I have called the posthumous phantom.
"'What is the form of the spirit?' asked the hypnotiser.
"'It has the form of a spider,' answered the medium.'"
This little incident, which recalls the ghost of a flea pictured by William Blake, the artist, and Dr. Reichenbach's dying mouse, led d'Assier to study the question of the duplication of personality among domestic animals. After some investigation he was sure that the medium's vision of a spirit spider was the reality, and he quotes other examples of phantasmal doubles.
On April 18th, 1705, M. Milanges de la Richardière, son of an advocate to the Parliament of Paris, when riding through Noisy-le-Grand, was surprised when his horse came to a dead stop in the middle of the road. At the same moment he saw a shepherd, of sinister countenance, carrying a crook, and accompanied by two black dogs with short ears. The man said, "Go home, sir. Your horse will not go forward."
At first the rider laughed, and then finding he could not make his horse advance an inch, he was forced to return, against his will. Some days later he was taken ill, and doctors were called in, who finding that his complaint did not yield to ordinary remedies, began to talk of sorcery. Young Milanges then confessed to his meeting with the strange shepherd and his dogs, and a few days later, to his surprise, when entering his own room, he saw the shepherd sitting in an arm-chair, dressed as he had seen him before, holding the crook still in his hand, and with the two black dogs by his side. In his terror the young man called for his servants, but they could not see the phantom man and animals.
At about ten o'clock the same night, however, the ghostly shepherd flung himself at the young man, who drew a knife from his pocket and made five or six cuts at his adversary's face.
A few days later the shepherd came to the house and confessed that he was a sorcerer and had persecuted M. Milanges. He had transported his double into the young man's chamber, as well as the phantasmal doubles of his black dogs.
The existence of the living phantom, thus being proved to M. d'Assier's satisfaction, he conceives that a posthumous phantom is merely the continuation, as it were, of the living double. A story of such an animal apparition was given to him by an educated and reliable farmer at St. Croix, Ariège.
"One of my comrades," said the farmer, "was returning home at a late hour of the night. At some distance from his house, which was situated on a lonely farm, he saw an ass browsing in an oat-field by the side of the road. Moved by a feeling of neighbourly interest, natural among farmers, he intended to take the unprofitable guest out of the field, and advanced to seize the ass and lead it to his own stable so that its owner might claim it. The animal allowed him to approach without difficulty and to lead it away without resistance. But at the very door of his stable the ass suddenly disappeared out of his grasp, like a shadow vanishing. In a fright at this uncanny incident, the farmer woke up his brother to tell him what had occurred, and in the morning they went to the oat-field, anxious to see whether much havoc had been done to the crops, but could find no trace of the oats having been touched or trampled upon."
The night was clear and there was no cloud in the sky. The young man, when closely questioned, asserted again and again that he had distinctly seen the ass vanish before his eyes at the door of the stable.
D'Assier's explanation is that the animal's spectre, originating on the same principle as the human spectre, exhibits posthumous manifestations analogous to those observed in the latter cases. The ass of St. Croix was met with at night because, like the posthumous phantom of a human being, he shuns daylight. "He is in an oat-field, pasturing according to the instinctive habit of his race, but in reality browses (as one would naturally infer) but the phantom of grass or grain. He follows his leader whilst they are upon the road, but refuses to enter the stable, which is for him a prison, and vanishes in order to escape it. Here we have the essential features of posthumous manifestations: and if the young man had inquired among his neighbours, he would have learned, in all probability, that some time previously a beast of burden had died and been buried on a neighbouring farm."[169]
A similar story was told by a Customs officer, and is equally authentic.
"One evening when I happened to be on guard, with one of my comrades," said the officer, "we perceived not far from the village where I lived, a mule which grazed before us and seemed as though laden. Supposing that he was carrying contraband goods, and that his master had fled on seeing us, we ran after the animal. The mule dashed into a meadow and after having made different bolts to escape us, he entered the village, and here we separated. Whilst my companion continued to follow him, I took a cross road so as to head him off. Seeing himself closely pressed, the animal quickened his pace, and several of the inhabitants were awakened by the noise of his hoofs clattering on the pavement. I got in front of him to the crossing, at the end of the street, through which he was fleeing, and at the moment when, seeing him close to me, I put out my hand to seize his halter, he disappeared like a shade, and I saw nothing but my comrade, who was as amazed as myself."
"Are you quite sure that he hadn't turned aside into another road?" asked d'Assier of the Customs officer who told him the story.
"That would have been quite impossible: the place where we were had no outlet, and the only way he could get away was by passing over my body: and, besides, the night was clear enough for us to see all his movements. Next morning the inhabitants of the village were cross-questioning each other about the racket they had heard in the night."
"Like the ass of St. Croix," continues d'Assier, "and like all posthumous phantoms, our mule shows himself at night. He is met in a pasture all absorbed in his favourite occupation, that is to say, browsing imaginary grass. As soon as he finds himself tracked by the Customs officers he takes flight, as though he were really carrying contraband goods in his panniers, and he vanishes when he sees himself about to be captured—all things which characterise the post-sepulchral Spectre."
"In certain cases, not yet well defined," adds the same author,[170] "our internal personality may, by reason of its fluidic nature, take on animal forms. Hence, when one is in the presence of the spectre of an animal, there is some reason to apprehend that this may be a lycanthropic manifestation of the human phantom, unless certain particularities identify its true origin. But I have said enough," he concludes, "to establish the existence of the fluid form-personality in animals and to demonstrate that the post-sepulchral humanity is but one particular case of a more general law—that of posthumous animality."
Another story of animal transformation is regarded by d'Assier as being a case of lycanthropia.
Two brothers occupied a house at St. Lizier, one of whom tells the story as follows:—
"I lived at that time in one of those little houses that you can see at the upper end of the town. I was about twelve years old and my brother was about seventeen. We slept together in a room to which we ascended by a small staircase. One evening we had just gone to bed when we heard someone ascending the steps. Then an animal about the size of a calf appeared. As the window had no blinds and the night was clear, it was easy for us to make out the animal's shape. Frightened at the sight of it, I clung to my brother, who at the first moment seemed as frightened as myself. But, recovering from his terror, he leaped out of bed, ran and caught up a pitchfork which was in the corner of the room, and, placing himself before the animal, said to it in a firm and resolute voice:
"'If thou comest by permission of God, speak: if from the devil, thou wilt have to deal with me.'
"Thus encountered, the animal wheeled swiftly round, and in turning it struck the framework of my bed with its tail. I then heard it descend the staircase precipitately, but as soon as it arrived at the bottom it disappeared and my brother, who was close behind it, was unable to see where it went. It is unnecessary to add that the door of the house was fast shut. As soon as I heard it descend the stairs I took courage and as the window of our room was over the street door I opened it to watch the strange visitor go out, but I saw nothing. My brother and I thought we had seen a wer-wolf and we accused an inhabitant of the vicinity, to whom were charged other adventures of this kind."
A more explicit case of lycanthropy occurred at Serisols, in the Canton of St. Croix, about sixty years ago.
A miller called Bigot had a reputation for sorcery. One day when his wife rose very early to go and wash some linen not very far from the house, he tried to dissuade her, repeating to her several times, "Do not go there: you will be frightened."
"Why should I be frightened?" she asked.
"I tell you you will be frightened," repeated her husband.
She did not take his threats seriously and went out in spite of them.
Hardly had she taken her place at the washing-tub, however, before she saw an animal moving here and there in front of her. It was not yet daylight, and she could not clearly make out its shape, but she thought it was a kind of a dog. Annoyed by its restless movements and not being able to scare it away, she threw her wooden clothes-beater at it, and the tool hit the animal in the eye. Immediately the creature disappeared and at the same moment Bigot's children heard him utter a cry of pain from his bed and shout out, "Ah! the wretch! She has destroyed my eye." From that day he was blind in one eye, so that undoubtedly this animal was not an animal double, but the miller's double in animal form.
D'Assier describes an epidemic of "obsession," or possession by demons, which occurred in 1857 at Morzine, in Savoy, and lasted until 1863, many young women and animals being attacked by a peculiar affliction. The atmosphere of Morzine, he says, "was impregnated with a foreign fluid (aura) since all that was required was to give change of air to ensure escape from the clutches of the disease. In certain families the domestic animals ate nothing, or satisfied themselves by gnawing the wood of their mangers; at other times it was the cows, goats, or sheep which gave no more milk, and what little some yielded was unfit for making into butter. These phenomena especially showed themselves in families where there were patients. Occasionally the sickness was transferred from persons to animals, and vice versa. If a young girl was relieved, a beast in the stable fell sick; and if the latter was cured the young girl relapsed into her former state. In face of such facts it was no longer possible to talk about obsession. The pest bursting forth simultaneously in houses and cattle-sheds, could only be ascribed to a physical cause, and the disorders that it provoked in persons attacked showed clearly that these phenomena were due to an excess or a degeneration of the mesmeric fluid...."[171] As a remedy, d'Assier suggests that "Obsession being an abnormal afflux of magnetic fluid upon the nervous system of the patient, the direct remedy is naturally the neutralisation of this fluid by a current of cerebral ether turned in the opposite direction and emanating from an energetic will."
Paracelsus, meaning probably much the same thing, declared that the astral currents produced by the imagination and will of man produced certain states in external Nature. The vehicle through which the will acts for effectuating good or evil he calls the living Mumia. The Mumia of a thing is its life-principle, a vehicle containing the essence of life. Exerting great power, it can be used in witchcraft and sorcery. "Witches," he says in "De Pestilitate," "may make a bargain with evil spirits, and cause them to carry the Mumia to certain places where it will come into contact with other people, without the knowledge of the latter, and cause them harm." Thus diseases are spread, milk spoilt and cattle infected, the injured people not knowing the cause of the evils with which they are afflicted.
A curious story of bewitched cattle and "blue milk" is told by Franz Hartmann in his "Life of Paracelsus,"[172] in which a kind of animal demon appears to have "possessed" the cattle.
At a farmhouse not far from Munich the milk turned blue. It had been deposited in the usual place and darkened gradually, appearing first a light blue, and becoming of inky hue, while the layer of cream exhibited zigzag lines and shortly the whole mass began to putrefy and to emit a horrible smell. This occurred for many days running, and the farmer began to despair, for he could not discover the cause of the trouble. The stable was thoroughly cleansed, the place where the milk was kept was changed, a different food was given to the cattle, and samples of the milk were sent to Munich to be examined by chemists; the old milk-pots were replaced by new ones, and so on, but nothing produced an improvement in the existing state of affairs.
At last a Countess who resided in the neighbourhood hearing about the matter, went to the farmhouse. She took with her a clean new bottle, and filled it with the milk as it came from the bewitched cows. She placed the bottle in her own pantry, and from that day the trouble at the farm ceased, but all the milk at her own house turned blue.
This went on for three months, during which time everything that could possibly be done was done to discover the cause of the milk being in this condition. Then an old lady who lived hundreds of miles off, having been appealed to, laid a spell by her own occult powers, writing certain incantations on slips of paper which effected a cure of the trouble. But before it ceased, a strange thing happened. As one of the milkmaids was about to enter the stable before daybreak, a huge black demon, in animal form, rushed out of the half-opened door, knocked the milk-pail and lantern out of her hands, and disappeared before she could awaken the household. After this all went well again. An apparition of this character may be regarded as belonging to the familiars or elementals rather than to the animal-ghosts.
CHAPTER XXIII
ANIMAL ELEMENTALS
Suggestion no doubt plays a large part in producing a belief in the power to change form at will, and the occult aspect of transformation is perhaps more interesting than any other view of the subject. Incantations, salves, herbs, drugs, perfumes, and other accessories of ritual are merely employed to strengthen concentrative force and to induce a suitable state of mind. In this sense the highest scientific method of transformation is known to the Yogi who, by performing samyama on the powers of any animal, acquires those powers.[173]
Samyama is the technical name for three inseparable processes taken collectively. The three processes are, firstly, contemplation, or the fixing of the mind on something, external or internal; secondly, the unity of the mind with its absorption, in which the mind is conscious only of itself and the object; and thirdly, trance, when the mind is conscious only of the object, and as though unconscious of itself. Trance proper is the forgetting of all idea of the act, and, still more important, the becoming of the object (such as the animal) thought upon. Thus, the three stages, contemplation, absorption, and trance, are in fact stages of contemplation, for the thing thought upon, the thinker, and the instrument (together with other things which are to be excluded), are all present in the first; all except the last are present in the second, and nothing but the object is present in the third.[174]
The Yogi believes that the mind can enter into another body by relaxation of the cause of bondage, and by knowledge of the method of passing. The bondage is the mind's being bound to a particular body. The cause of limiting the otherwise all-pervading mind to a particular spot is karma or dharma and adharma, i.e. good or bad deeds. When by constant samyama on these, the effect of the cause is neutralised and the bonds of confinement loosened, then the mind is free to enter any dead or living organism and perform its functions through it. But for this purpose a knowledge of effecting this transfer is equally necessary....
We always think in relation to the ego within us, and therefore in relation to the body. Even when we direct our mind somewhere out of the body, it is still in relation with the thinking self. When this relation is entirely severed and the mind exists as it were spontaneously, outside and independent of the body, the Yogi finds the state of internal mind most favourable for passing from one corporeal shape into another, for it is nothing more than the vrtti (or soul) severed from the body that travels from one place to another. The act of the mind cognising objects, or technically speaking, taking the shape of objects presented to it, is called vrtti, or transformation. Those familiar with the so-called spirit-materialisations will readily comprehend the somewhat obscure sense of this aphorism.[175]
Animal elementals or thought-forms were employed by magicians in the remote ages, and believed to be created entities which persisted throughout time and might be sent forth, somewhat in the nature of a familiar, to wreak harm on others. Such animal thought-forms are regarded as natural or possible by many occultists to-day and two modern stories exemplify this belief.
A certain Miss Carter went to have tea at a friend's house where she met a lady whom she knew, a Miss Thory, the sister of an eminent philosopher. Miss Carter asked this lady whether she would be kind enough to tell her fortune from the cards, but Miss Thory declined, saying that she felt tired. Shortly afterwards Miss Carter went away and, as soon as her back was turned, Miss Thory said to her hostess, "My dear, don't have much to do with that young lady, because she goes about telling people that she is beloved by an archangel who kisses her on the lips, but I have seen the creature which hovers about her, and which she takes to be an archangel, and it has the shape of a crocodile and is trying to influence people through her. It is an evil elemental."
The other story concerns two friends, Mrs. Harper and Miss Sylvester, who, travelling together on the astral plane, decided to visit the bottom of the sea. They believed they arrived there and saw an enormous octopus which was floating about amongst the wreckage on the ocean bed. Miss Sylvester immediately made the protective sign of the Pentacle and suffered no inconvenience, but Mrs. Harper neglected to take this precaution and the monstrous animal followed her about. They did not mention these strange experiences to anyone, and they were well-nigh forgotten when some time later it happened that Miss Sylvester introduced Mrs. Harper to one of her friends, a very well-known poet. Meeting Miss Sylvester a few days afterwards, he said to her quite frankly, "I suppose I ought not to say so to you, but I did not much care for your friend, Mrs. Harper. The night after you introduced me to her I could not sleep and whenever I thought about her I was aware of some elemental creature crawling beneath my bed. It had the shape of an octopus with horrible tentacles!"
Phenomena of this character are explained by the occultist as follows:—
The elemental essence which surrounds us is singularly susceptible to the influence of human thought. The action of the mere casual wandering thought upon it causes it to burst into a cloud of rapidly-moving, evanescent forms. Thought, seizing upon the plastic essence, moulds it instantly into a living being of appropriate form—"a being which when once thus created is in no way under the control of its creator, but lives out a life of its own, the length of which is proportionate to the intensity of the thought or wish which called it into existence. It lasts, in fact, just as long as the thought-force holds it together. Most people's thoughts are so fleeting and indecisive that the elementals created by them last only a few minutes or a few hours, but an often repeated thought or an earnest wish will form an elemental whose existence may extend to many days.... A man who frequently dwells upon one wish often forms for himself an astral attendant, which, constantly fed by fresh thought, may haunt him for years, ever gaining more and more strength and influence over him...."
It is said that a magician who understands the subject and knows what effect he is producing may acquire great power along these lines and can call into existence artificial elementals which, if he be not careful, escape from his control and become wandering demons.
The magicians of Atlantis brought into being wonderful speaking animals who had to be appeased by an offering of blood lest they should awaken their masters and warn them of impending destruction.[176]
An even more terrible, psychic animal-being is described by occultists as the Dweller on the Threshold. In answer to the question, What kind of an animal is a human creature born soulless? Madame Blavatsky[177] explains that "the future of the lower Manas is terrible, and still more terrible to humanity than to the now animal man. It sometimes happens that, after the separation, the exhausted soul, now become supremely animal, fades out in Kama Loka, as do all other animal souls. But seeing that the more material is the human mind, the longer it lasts, even in the intermediate stage, it frequently happens that after the present life of the soulless man is ended, he is again and again reincarnated into new personalities, each one more abject than the other. The impulse of animal life is too strong: it cannot wear itself out in one or two lives only. In rarer cases, however, when the lower Manas is doomed to exhaust itself by starvation: when there is no longer hope that even a remnant of a lower light will, owing to favourable conditions—say, even a short period of spiritual aspiration and repentance—attract back to itself its Parent Ego, and Karma leads the Higher-Ego back to new incarnations, then something far more dreadful may happen. The Kama-Manasic spook may become that which is called in Occultism, the 'Dweller on the Threshold.'...
"Bereft of the guiding Principles, but strengthened by the material elements, Kama-Manas, from being a 'derived light,' now becomes an independent entity, and thus, suffering itself to sink lower and lower on the animal plane, when the hour strikes for its earthly body to die, one of two things happens; either Kama-Manas is immediately reborn in Myalba, the state of Avitchi on earth, or, if it becomes too strong in evil—'immortal in Satan' is the occult expression—it is sometimes allowed, for Karmic purposes, to remain in an active state of Avitchi in the terrestrial Aura. Then through despair and loss of all hope, it becomes like the mythical 'devil' in its endless wickedness; it continues in its elements, which are imbued through and through with the essence of Matter; for evil is coevil with Matter rent asunder from Spirit. And when its Higher-Ego has once more reincarnated, evolving a new reflection, or Kama-Manas, the doomed lower Ego, like a Frankenstein's monster, will ever feel attracted to its Father who repudiates his son, and will become a regular 'Dweller on the Threshold' of terrestrial life."
Concerning the evolution of man-animal and animal-man, Madame Blavatsky[178] declares, "it is most important to remember that the Egos of the Apes are entities compelled by their Karma to incarnate in the animal forms, which resulted from the bestiality of the latest Third and the earliest Fourth Race men. They are entities who had already reached the 'human stage' before this Round. Consequently they form an exception to the general rule. The numberless traditions about Satyrs are no fables, but represent an extinct race of animal men. The animal 'Eves' were their foremothers, and the human 'Adams' their forefathers; hence the Kabalistic allegory of Lilith or Lilatu, Adam's first wife, whom the Talmud describes as a charming woman with long wavy hair, i.e. a female hairy animal of a character now unknown, still a female animal, who in the Kabalistic and Talmudic allegories is called the female reflection of Samael, Samael-Lilith, or man-animal united, a being called Hayo Bischat, the Beast or Evil Beast (Zohar). It is from this unnatural union that the present apes descended. The latter are truly 'speechless men' and will become speaking animals (or men of a lower order) in the Fifth Round, while the adepts of a certain school hope that some of the Egos of the apes of a higher intelligence will reappear at the close of the Sixth-Root race. What their form will be is of secondary consideration. The form means nothing. Species and genera of the flora, fauna, and the highest animal, its crown—man—change and vary according to the environments and climatic variations, not only with every Round, but every Root-Race likewise, as well as after every geological cataclysm that puts an end to, or produces a turning-point in the latter. In the Sixth Root-Race the fossils of the Orang, the Gorilla and the Chimpanzee will be those of extinct quadrumanous mammals and new forms—though fewer and ever wider apart as ages pass on and the close of the Manvantara approaches—will develop from the 'cast-off' types of the human races as they revert once again to astral, out of the mire of physical life. There were none before man and they will be extinct before the Seventh Race develops. Karma will lead on the monads of the unprogressed men of our race and lodge them in the newly evolved human frames of this physiologically regenerated baboon.
"This will take place, of course, millions of years hence. But the picture of this cyclic procession of all that lives and breathes now on earth, of each species in its turn, is a true one, and needs no 'special creation' or miraculous formation of man, beast or plant ex nihilo.
"This is how Occult Science explains the absence of any link between ape and man and shows the former evolving from the latter."
The Indians believe that sinners are reborn as animals. "After having suffered the torments in the hells, the evil-doers pass into animal bodies,"[179] and their classification of such punishment has been carefully worked out.
Mortal sinners enter the bodies of worms or insects. Minor offenders enter the bodies of birds. Criminals in the fourth degree enter the bodies of the aquatic animals. Those who have committed a crime effecting loss of caste, enter the bodies of amphibious animals. Those who have committed a crime degrading to a mixed caste enter the bodies of deer. Those who have committed a crime rendering them unworthy to receive alms, enter the bodies of cattle. Those who have committed one of the miscellaneous crimes enter the bodies of miscellaneous wild carnivorous animals (such as tigers).
A thief (of other property than gold) becomes a falcon.
One who has appropriated a broad passage, becomes a serpent or other animal living in holes.
One who has stolen grain becomes a rat.
One who has stolen water becomes a water-fowl.
One who has stolen honey becomes a gad-fly.
One who has stolen milk becomes a crow.
One who has stolen juice (of the sugar-cane or other plants) becomes a dog.
One who has stolen clarified butter becomes an ichneumon.
One who has stolen meat becomes a vulture.
One who has stolen fat becomes a cormorant.
One who has stolen oil becomes a cockroach.
One who has stolen salt becomes a cricket.
One who has stolen sour milk becomes a crane.
One who has stolen silk becomes a partridge.
One who has stolen linen becomes a frog.
One who has stolen cotton cloth becomes a curlew.
One who has stolen a cow becomes an iguana.
One who has stolen sugar becomes a Valguda (kind of bat).
One who has stolen perfumes becomes a musk-rat.
One who has stolen vegetables becomes a peacock.
One who has stolen prepared grain becomes a boar.
One who has stolen undressed grain becomes a porcupine.
One who has stolen fire becomes a crane.
One who has stolen household utensils becomes a wasp.
One who has stolen dyed cloth becomes a partridge.
One who has stolen an elephant becomes a tortoise.
One who has stolen a horse becomes a tiger.
One who has stolen fruit or blossoms becomes an ape.
One who has stolen a woman becomes a bear.
One who has stolen a vehicle becomes a camel.
One who has stolen cattle becomes a vulture.
He who has taken by force any property belonging to another or eaten food not first presented to the gods, inevitably enters the body of some beast.
Women who have committed similar thefts, receive the same ignominious punishment: they become females to those male animals.
Then having undergone the torments inflicted in the hells and having passed through the animal bodies the sinners are born as human beings with marks indicating their crime.
These transformations came about by the insistent wickedness of human thoughts and deeds. Eliphas Levi discusses the magic power of the spoken word in bringing changes of shape to pass. "In the opinion of the vulgar," he says,[180] "transformations and metamorphosis have ever been the very essence of magic.... Magic really changes the nature of things, or rather modifies their appearances at pleasure, according to the strength of the operator's will and the fascination of aspiring adepts. Speech creates forms, and when a person reputed infallible gives anything a name, he really transforms the object into the substance which is signified by the name that he gives it....
"The life of creatures is a progressive transformation, having forms which may be determined and renewed, preserved longer, or else destroyed sooner. If the motion of metempsychosis were true, might we not say that debauch, represented by Circe, changes men really and materially into swine, for the chastisement of vices would on this hypothesis be a lapse into those animal forms which correspond to them? Now metempsychosis, which has been frequently misunderstood, has a perfectly true side. Animal forms communicate their sympathetic imprints to the astral body of man and are soon reflected on his features, according to the force of his habits. A man of intelligent and passive mildness assumes the ways and inert physiognomy of a sheep; in somnambulism, however, it is no longer a person of sheep-like appearance but a sheep itself that is seen, as the ecstatic and learned Swedenborg experienced times out of number. Thus we can really change men into animals—it is all a question of will-power."
"The fatal ascendancy of one person over another is the true rod of Circe," he continues. "Almost every human countenance bears some resemblance to an animal. That is, it has the signature of a specialised instinct. Now instincts are balanced by contrary instincts, and dominated by others which are stronger. To govern sheep, the dog evokes the fear of the wolf. If you are a dog and would be loved by a pretty little cat, be metamorphosed into a cat, and you will win her. But how is the change to be accomplished? By observation, imitation, and imagination.... By polarising one's own animal light in equilibrated antagonism with an opposite pole."[181]
Paracelsus has written at length on the same aspect of the subject. "Men have two spirits," he explains,[182] "an animal spirit and a human spirit in them. A man who lives in his animal spirit is like an animal during life, and will be an animal after death: but a man who lives in his human spirit will remain human. Animals have consciousness and reason, but they have no spiritual intelligence. It is the presence of the latter that raises man above the animal, and its absence makes an animal of what once appeared to be a man. A man in whom the animal reason alone is active is a lunatic, and his character resembles that of some animal. One man acts like a wolf, another like a dog, another like a hog, a snake or a fox, etc. It is their animal principle that makes them act as they do, and their animal principle will perish like the animals themselves. But the human reason is not of an animal nature, but comes from God, and being a part of God, it is necessarily immortal."
"The animal soul of man is derived from the cosmic animal elements," he writes elsewhere,[183] "and the animal kingdom is therefore the father of the animal man. If man is like his animal father, he resembles an animal; if he is like the Divine Spirit that lives within his animal elements, he is like a god. If his reason is absorbed by his animal instincts, it becomes animal reason; if it rises above his animal desires, it becomes angelic. If a man eats the flesh of an animal, the animal flesh becomes human flesh; if an animal eats human flesh, the latter becomes animal flesh. A man whose human reason is absorbed by his animal desires is an animal, and if his animal reason becomes enlightened by wisdom he becomes an angel.
"Animal man is the son of the animal elements out of which his soul was born, and animals are the mirrors of man. Whatever animal elements exist in the world exist in the soul of man, and therefore the character of one man may resemble that of a fox, a dog, a snake, a parrot, etc. Man need not, therefore, be surprised that animals have animal instincts that are so much like his own; it might rather be surprising for the animals to see that their son (animal man) resembles them so closely....
"A man who loves to lead an animal life is an animal ruled by his interior animal heaven. The same stars (qualities) that cause a wolf to murder, a dog to steal, a cat to kill, a bird to sing, etc., make a man a singer, an eater, a talker, a lover, a murderer, a robber, or a thief. These are animal attributes and they die with the animal elements to which they belong; but the divine principle in man, which constitutes him a human being, comes from God. Man should therefore live in harmony with his divine parent, and not in the animal elements of his soul."
The object of human life is therefore to realise that one is not an animal, but a god-like being inhabiting a human animal form. If man once realises what he actually is, he will be able to use his divine powers and be himself a creator of forms.[184]
The same writer describes beings which are neither animal nor man, but which have characteristics of both, and which he calls Nature-spirits or Elementals. To these he gives the names of the Gnomes, the Nymphs or Undines, the Sylphs or Sylvestres, the Salamanders, the Pigmies and the Sirens. He attributes to them curious qualities and shapes. They can, for instance, pass through matter, yet they are not spirits, rather occupying a place "between men and spirits." They are not immortal, and when they die they perish like animals. They have only animal intellects and are incapable of spiritual development. The Nymphs live in the element of water, the Sylphs in that of the air, the Pigmies in the earth, and the Salamanders in the fire. Each species moves only in the element to which it belongs. To each elemental being the element in which it lives is transparent, invisible, and respirable. The Gnomes have no intercourse with the Undines or Salamanders, nor the Sylvestres with either. Animals receive their clothing from Nature, but the spirits of Nature prepare it themselves. The Elementals belonging to the element of water resemble human beings of either sex; those of the air are greater and stronger; the Salamanders are long, lean and dry; the Pigmies are of the length of about two spans, but they can extend or elongate their forms until they appear like giants. The Elementals of air and water, the Sylphs and Nymphs, are kindly disposed towards man; the Salamanders cannot associate with him on account of the fiery nature of the element wherein they live, and the Pigmies are usually of a malicious nature.
Men live in the exterior elements and the Elementals live in the interior elements. They are sometimes seen in various shapes. Salamanders have been seen in the shapes of fiery balls, or tongues of fire running over the fields or appearing in houses. Nymphs have been known to adopt the human shape, clothing, and manner, and to enter into a union with man. The Undines appear to man but not man to them. They may meet him on the physical plane, marry him and keep house with him and the children will be human beings and not Undines, because they receive a human soul from the man. If an Undine becomes united to man she will thereby receive the germ of immortality. As an Undine without her union with man dies like an animal, likewise man is like an animal if he severs his union with God. If any man has a Nymph for a wife, let him take care not to offend her while she is near the water, as in such case she might return to her own element.
The Sirens are merely a kind of monstrous fish, and are related to the Undines much as giant and dwarf monsters are related to the Sylvestres and Gnomes. The monsters have no spiritual souls and are comparable to monkeys rather than to human beings.
Such creatures seem almost too elusive to be labelled as human-animals, but the description given of them by the great occultist at least opens the mind to the possibilities of classifying beings not defined by material limitations or by animal senses. Of this character are the spirits or elementals called up in strange, and sometimes even gruesome, animal form by magicians when at work casting spells.
CHAPTER XXIV
ANIMAL SPIRITS IN CEREMONIAL MAGIC
To call up demons the magician takes certain steps by which he puts himself into the right frame of mind, and by which he also ensures means of protection against harmful magical powers which he may bring into play.
He first draws a magical circle, of different character according to the time of the year, the order of the spirits desired, the day, the hour, and so forth. Three circles about nine feet in diameter with the space of a hand's breadth between them is one method, certain signs and written particulars being made within each circle. It is then necessary to bless and consecrate the work, and after nine days' preparation, being provided with holy water, perfumes, salves, and ointments, a fine white linen garb of a certain shape; having drawn the pentacle of Solomon upon parchment in which to bind unruly evil spirits and having recited certain magical incantations, exorcisms, and prayers, he is ready and prepared for the appearance of the spirits he desires to consult for purposes of obtaining knowledge on various things that concern him and his destiny.
Books on ceremonial magic explain how it is possible to call up demons in the shape of beasts. "According to their various capacities in wickedness," says Reginald Scott, "so these shapes are answerable after a magical manner; resembling spiritually some horrid and ugly monsters, as their conspiracies against the power of God were high and monstrous, when they fell from heaven."[185]
Devils that belong to the supreme hierarchy, when they are called up by magicians, at first appear in the form of lions, vomiting fire and roaring hideously about the circle. Then they convert themselves into serpents, monkeys, and other animals. After the conjuration is repeated, they forsake these bestial shapes and gradually become more and more human, appearing at last after frequent repetition of ceremony, as men of gentle countenance and behaviour.
Demons from the two next orders of the infernal regions represent the beautiful colours of birds and beasts as leopards, tigers, peacocks, and so forth. By conjurations these also may be induced to take on human shape. Some, however, can hardly be conjured to desert their monstrous forms and continue to exhibit to the exorcist a pair of crocodile jaws or a lion's paw "with other dreadful menaces, enough to terrify any novice from such damnable injunctions as the practice of magic."
Such devils as Astaroth, Lucifer, Bardon, and Pownok, continues Scott, who incline men and instigate them to pride and presumptuousness, have the shapes of horses, lions, tigers, or wolves. Those that instigate lust and covetousness appear in the form of hogs, serpents, and other envious reptiles or beasts, such as dogs, cats, vultures or snakes. Those who bend men's thoughts to murder, have the shape of birds or beasts of prey. More tolerable are those qualified to answer questions about philosophy and religion when called up, they seem almost human, but have crooked noses like mermaids or satyrs. Such evil spirits as have a predilection towards inducing mixed vices are not of distinct shape like one single beast, but are compound monsters with serpent tails, four eyes, many feet and horns and so on.
In Barrett's "Magus or Celestial Intelligencer,"[186] the author gives the Key to Ceremonial Magic with Conjurations for every day in the week—to be used in calling up familiars and spirits. Many of these appear in animal form, namely, as a cow, a small doe, a goose, and many others.
The familiar forms of the spirits of Mars, according to Barrett,[187] "appear in a tall body and choleric, having a filthy countenance, of colour brown, swarthy, or red, having horns like harts, and griffins' claws and bellowing like wild bulls." Sometimes they take the shape of a she-goat, a horse, or a stag. The spirits of Mercury are more affable and human, though they cause horror and fear to those that call them. Sometimes they appear as a dog, a she-bear, or a magpie. When the familiar forms of the spirits of Jupiter are called, there will appear about the circle men who shall seem to be devoured by lions, and the demons may take the shape of bulls, stags, or peacocks. On Friday, for instance, the conjuration may bring a camel, a dove, or a she-goat, on Saturday a hog, a dragon, or an owl, but it must always be borne in mind that apparitions in human shape exceed in authority and power those that come as animals.
The raising of ghosts by fumes is discussed by Cornelius Agrippa.[188]
"If Coriander, Smallage, henbane, and hemlock be made a fume, spirits will presently come together, hence they are called the spirit herbs. Also it is said that a fume made of the root of herb sagapen with the juice of hemlock and henbane, and the herb tapsus barbatus, red sanders and black poppy makes spirits and strange shapes appear.
"Moreover, it is said that by certain fumes certain animals are gathered together, and put to flight, as Pliny mentions concerning the stone Leparis, that with the fumes thereof all beasts are called out; so the bones in the upper part of the throat of a hart, being burnt, gather all the serpents together, but the horn of the hart being burnt doth with its fume chase them all away. The same doth a fume of the feathers of peacocks."
"Hags and goblins," says Agrippa, "inoffensive to them that are good, but hurtful to the wicked, appear sometimes in thinner bodies, another time in grosser, in the shape of divers animals and monsters whose conditions they had in their lifetime.