It were well, perhaps, did the cruelties practised in former ages lay generally at the door of superstition. The extraordinary trials to which those suspected of any guilty action were conducted with many devout ceremonies, by the ministers of religion, were declared to be the judgments of God. The kinds of ordeal were various, e. g. holding in the hand a red hot bar; plunging the arm into boiling water; walking blindfold amidst burning ploughshares; passing through fires; challenging the accuser to single combat, when frequently the ablest champion was permitted to supply his place; swallowing a morsel of consecrated bread; swimming or sinking in a river for witchcraft, or, as it was called, weighing a witch; stretching out the arms before the cross, till the soonest wearied dropped his arms, and lost his estate, which was decided by this very short process, called juidcium crucis, &c.

A dispute occurred between the Bishop of Paris and the Abbot of St. Denis, about the patronage of a monastery, and Pepin, surnamed the Short, not being able to pronounce upon their confused claims, decreed that it should be settled by one of these judgments of God: viz. The judgment of the cross. Each of the disputants chose a man, and both of the men appeared in the chapel, where they extended their arms in the form of a cross. The spectators, more orderly than those of the present day; still, although they watched every motion of the combatants with the most pious attention, the old English spirit, which rules so prevalently at the present period, was proof against every other consideration—they betted on the feat, first on one side, then on the other, according as the odds seemed to run in favour or against. The Bishop’s man was first tried; he let his arms drop and ruined his patron for ever. Though these trials might sometimes be evaded by the artifice of the priest, numerous, nevertheless, were the innocent victims who suffered from these superstitious practices.

They were very frequent between the tenth and twelfth century. William Rufus, having accused Hildebert, the Bishop of Mans, of high treason, was on the verge of submitting to one of these trials, when he was convinced by Ives, Bishop of Chartres, that they were against the canons of the constitution of the church, and adds, that in this manner “Innocentiam defendere, est innocentiam perdere.” In 1066 an abbot of St. Aubin of Angers, having refused to present a horse to the viscount of Tours, which the viscount claimed in right of his lordship, whenever an abbot first took possession of that abbey; the ecclesiastic offered to justify himself by the trial of the ordeal, or by duel, for which purpose he proposed to find a substitute. The duel was first agreed to by the viscount; but, reflecting that these combatants, though sanctioned by the church, depended solely on the address or vigour of the adversary, and consequently could afford no substantial proof of the equity of his claim, he proposed to compromise the matter in a manner which strongly characterised these times: he surrendered his claim, on condition that the abbot should not forget to mention him, his wife, and his brothers, in his prayers! As the orisons appeared to the abbot of comparatively little value with the horse, the proposal was accepted.

In the tenth century the right of representation was not settled: it was a question whether a son’s sons ought to be accounted among the children of the family, and succeed equally with their uncles, if their fathers happened to die while their grandfathers survived. This point was decided by one of these combats. The champion in behalf of the right of children to represent their deceased father, proved victorious. It was then established by a perpetual decree, that they should from that time forward share in the inheritance along with their uncles.

In the eleventh century, the same mode was adopted, to decide between two rival liturgies! A couple of knights, clad in complete armour, were the tests to decide which was the true and authentic liturgy.

The capitularies of Dagobert say, that if two neighbours dispute respecting the boundaries of their possessions, let a piece of turf of the contested land be dug up by the judge, and brought by him into the court, and the two parties shall touch it with the points of their swords, calling on God to witness their claims: after this, let them combat, and let victory prove who is right or who is wrong. In these combats in Germany, a solemn circumstance was practised in these judicial combats. In the midst of the lists they placed a bier; by the side of which stood the accuser and the accused, one at the head and the other at the foot, where they leaned in profound silence for some time before the combat commenced. In his preface to Way’s Fableaux, Mr. Ellis shews how faithfully the manners of the age are painted in these ancient tales, by observing the judicial combat introduced by a writer of the 14th century, who, in his poem, represents Pilate as challenging Jesus Christ to single combat; and another, who describes the person who pierced the side of Christ as a knight who jousted with Jesus.

It appears that judicial combat was practised by the Jews. Whenever the Rabbins had to decide on a dispute about property between two parties, neither of which could produce evidence to substantiate the claim, it was terminated by single combat. The Rabbins were impressed with a notion that consciousness of right would give additional confidence and strength to the rightful possessor. It may, however, be more philosophical to observe, that such judicial combats were more frequently favourable to the criminal than to the innocent, because the bold wicked man is usually more ferocious and hardy than he whom he singles out as his victim, and who only wishes to preserve his own quiet enjoyments: in this case the assailant is the most terrific opponent.

Those who were accused of robbery in these times were put to trial by a piece of barley bread, on which the mass had been performed; and if the accused could not swallow it, they were declared guilty. This mode of trial was improved by adding to the bread a slice of cheese; and such was their credulity and dependance on heaven in these ridiculous trials, that they were very particular in this holy bread and cheese, called the corsned. The bread was to be of unleavened barley, and the cheese made of ewes milk in the month of May^[5].

The bleeding of a corpse was another proof of guilt in superstitious ages; nor is the custom yet entirely abolished. If a person were murdered, it was believed, that at the touch or approach of the murderer, the blood gushed out from various parts of the body. By the side of the bier, if the smallest change was perceptible in the eyes, mouth, feet or hands of the corpse, the murderer was conjectured to be present, and many innocent persons doubtless must have suffered death from this idle chimera; for when a body is full of blood, warmed by a sudden external heat and symptoms of ensuing putrefaction, some of the blood vessels will burst, as they will all in time. This practice was once allowed in England, and is still looked on in some of the uncivilized parts of these kingdoms as a means of detecting the criminal. It forms a rich picture in the imagination of our old writers; and their histories and ballads are laboured into pathos by dwelling on the suppositious phenomenon.

All these absurd institutions, Robertson observes, cherished and inculcated, form the superstitions of the age believing the legendary histories of those saints who crowd and disgrace the Roman calendar. These fabulous miracles had been declared authentic by the bulls of the Popes, and the decrees of Councils—they were greedily swallowed by the populace; and whoever believed that the Supreme Being had interposed miraculously on those trivial occasions mentioned in legends, could not but expect his intervention in matters of greater importance when solemnly referred to his decision. Besides this ingenious remark, the fact is, that these customs were a substitute for written laws, which that barbarous period had not; and as it is impossible for any society to exist without laws, the ignorance of the people had recourse to these customs, which bad and absurd as they were, served to terminate controversies which might have given birth to more destructive practices. Ordeals are, in fact, the rude laws of a barbarous people, who have not obtained a written code, and not advanced enough in civilization, to embrace the refined investigations, the subtle distinctions, and elaborate inquiries, which are exacted by a Court of Law.

It may be presumed, that these ordeals owe their origin to that one of Moses, called the “Waters of Jealousy.” The Greeks also had ordeals, for we read in the Antigonus of Sophocles, that the soldiers offer to prove their innocence by handling red hot iron, and walking between fires.

One cannot but smile at the whimsical ordeals of the Siamese. Among other practices to discover the justice of a cause, civil or criminal, they are particularly attached to the use of certain consecrated purgative pills, which the contending parties are made to swallow. He who retains them longest, gains his cause! The practice of giving Indians a consecrated grain of rice to swallow, is known to discover the thief in any company, by the contortions and dismay evident on the countenance of the real thief.

In the middle ages they were acquainted with secrets to pass unhurt these secret trials: one is mentioned by Voltaire for undergoing the ordeal of boiling water; and this statement is confirmed by some of our late travellers in the East. The Mevleheh dervises can hold red hot iron between their teeth. Such artifices have been often publicly exhibited at Paris and London. On the ordeal of the Anglo-Saxons, Mr. Sharon Turner observes, that the hand was not to be immediately inspected, and was left to the chance of a good constitution to be so far healed during three days (the time they required to be bound up and sealed, before it was examined) as to discover those appearances when inspected, which were allowed to be satisfactory. There was also much preparatory training, suggested by the more experienced: besides, the accused had an opportunity of going alone into the church, and making terms with the priest. The few spectators were always at a distance; and cold iron or any other inoffensive substance might be substituted, and the fire diminished at the moment. There can be no doubt they possessed these secrets and medicaments, which they always took care to have ready at hand, that they might pass through these trials in perfect security.

There is an anecdote of these times given by Camerarius, in his “Horæ Subscecivæ,” which may serve to show the readiness of this apparatus. A rivalship existed between the Austin Friars and the Jesuits. The Father-general of the Austin Friars was dining with the Jesuits; and on the table being removed, he entered into a formal discourse of the superiority of the monastic order, and charged the Jesuits, in unqualified terms, with assuming the title of “Fratres,” while they held not the three vows, which other monks were obliged to consider as sacred and binding. The general of the Austin Friars was very eloquent and very authoritative: and the superior of the Jesuits was very unlearned, but not quite half a fool. He was rather careless about entering the list of controversy with the Austin Friar, but arrested his triumph by asking him if he would see one of his Friars who pretended to be nothing more than a Jesuit, and one of the Austin Friar’s who religiously performed the above-mentioned three vows, show instantly which of them would be the readiest to obey his superiors? The Austin Friar consented. The Jesuit then turning to one of his brothers, the Holy Friar Mark, who was waiting on them, said, “Brother Mark, our companions are cold; I command you, in virtue of the holy obedience you have sworn to me, to bring here instantly out of the kitchen fire, and in your hands, some burning coals, that they may warm themselves over your hands.” Father Mark instantly obeys, and to the astonishment of the Austin Friars, brought in his hands a supply of red burning coals, and held them to whoever thought proper to warm himself; and at the command of his superior, returned them to the kitchen hearth. The general of the Austin Friars, with the rest of his brethren, stood amazed; he looked wistfully on one of his monks, as if he wished to command him to do the like; but the Austin Monk, who perfectly understood him, and saw this was not a time to hesitate, observed,—“Reverend Father, forbear, and do not command me to tempt God! I am ready to fetch you fire in a chafing dish, but not in my bare hands.” The triumph of the Jesuits was complete; and it is not necessary to add, that the miracle was noised about, and that the Austin Friars could never account for it, notwithstanding their strict performance of the three vows.